Mrs. Bach brought on the steaming goose, but everybody was dismally uncomfortable throughout the meal. The organist's rosy-cheeked wife tried to banish the gloom by speaking cheerily upon subjects not akin to music; but Christoff would not reply, and Sebastian could not, so her brave attempts soon failed, and the room was left in silence. Sebastian's appetite was gone, and as soon as possible he hurried away to his own room, where, deeply dejected, he sat with his face buried in his folded arms. As the shade of twilight fell across his bowed figure, a quick footstep sounded behind him, and a soft hand was laid upon his head. "Come, Bübchen," said Mrs. Bach kindly, "don't worry any more. Christoff didn't mean all that he said to-day, and he is sorry that he spoke as he did. See, I have brought you a bowl of bread and milk, for I noticed that you ate no dinner. So now forgive Christoff for what he said when he was angry, and forget all that happened this afternoon. If you act toward him just as usual, he will do the same with you, and we shall all be happy again." Sebastian eagerly raised his head. "He won't think me a thief any longer?" "No, no. Certainly not. After he had cooled down a bit I explained to him what you meant by borrowing his book, and how hard you practised to learn the second fugue against his return; and he said that he believed that you were truly honest, and he was sorry that he had accused you wrongfully." "And he'll let me use his book hereafter, and learn to play the fugues?" cried Sebastian joyfully. Mrs. Bach shook her head slowly, her blue eyes fixed sorrowfully upon the boy. "No," she said, "you cannot use his book any more. He said that he would never scold you again for having taken it last week, but that you must send him your promise never to play out of it again." "Schwester!" ejaculated the boy in keen distress, "why does he forbid me to use it?" "I do not know; I do not know." "I may as well give up my playing altogether, for I have finished my own pieces; Christoff himself said I might leave them now, and I have no others to study. Music is so costly that I cannot buy any for myself,--yes, I may as well forget that I wished to be a great, great musician. Schwester!" The boy's eyes kindled and his cheeks glowed as he continued ardently,-- "I'd like to play so wonderfully by the time I'm a man that whole audiences would sometimes smile and sometimes cry with the sweetness of my music, and little children would drop their toys in the street and stand in my garden listening. But how can I learn without any music to study?" "Buy a book from the cantor with the money you earned to-day in the parade," suggested Mrs. Bach hopefully. Sebastian shook his head. "I can't," he explained, "because I gave half of it to Georg Erdmann, so that he might go to Gotha to visit his grandmother, and I paid the rest to a gardener for a present that I brought home yesterday for you."