"That," said the Master, with his face alight,--"that is mine son's true courage. Take it with your head up, your teeth shut, and your heart always believing. Fear nothing, and much will be given back to you,--is it not so? Let life do all it can--you will never be crushed unless you are willing that it should be so. Defeat comes only to those who invite it." "I see," said Lynn, again; "with all my heart I thank you." He went away soon afterward, insensibly comforted. Overnight, he had come into his heritage of pain, had lost the girl he loved, and in swift restitution found comradeship with the Master. That stately figure lingered long before his vision, grey and rugged, yet with a certain graciousness--simple, kindly, and yet austere; one who had accepted his sorrow, and, by some alchemy of the spirit, transmuted it into universal compassion, to speak, through the Cremona, to all who could understand. XVII "He Loves Her Still" When Doctor Brinkerhoff came on Wednesday evening, he was surprised to discover that Iris had gone away. "It was sudden, was it not?" he asked. "It seemed so to us," returned Margaret. "We knew nothing of it until the morning she started. She had probably been planning it for a long time, though she did not take us into her confidence until the last minute." Lynn sat with his face turned away from his mother. "Did you, perhaps, suspect that she was going?" the Doctor directly inquired of Lynn. He hesitated for the barest perceptible interval before he spoke. "She told us at the breakfast table," he answered. "Iris is replete with surprises." "But before that," continued the Doctor, "did you have no suspicion?" Lynn laughed shortly. "How should I suspect?" he parried. "I know nothing of the ways of women." "Women," observed the Doctor, with an air of knowledge,--"women are inscrutable. For instance, I cannot understand why Miss Iris did not come to say 'good-bye' to me. I am her foster-father, and it would have been natural." "Good-byes are painful," said Margaret. "We Germans do not say 'good-bye,' but only 'auf wiedersehen.' Perhaps we shall see her again, perhaps not. No one knows." "Fraeulein Fredrika does not say 'auf wiedersehen,'" put in Lynn, anxious to turn the trend of the conversation. "No," responded the Doctor, with a smile. "She says: 'You will come once again, yes? It would be most kind.'" He imitated the tone and manner so exactly that Lynn laughed, but it was a hollow laugh, without mirth in it. "Do not misunderstand me," said the Doctor, quickly; "it was not my intention to ridicule the Fraeulein. She is a most estimable woman. Do you perhaps know her?" he asked of Margaret. "I have not that pleasure," she replied. "She was not here when I first came," the Doctor went on, "but Herr Kaufmann sent for her soon afterward. They are devoted to each other, and yet so unlike. You would have laughed to see Franz at work at his housekeeping, before she came."