round and threw herself into her father's arms, crying.
"That's enough music," said the father.
"Isn't she a silly?" said the brother named Benjamin, scoffingly; "first she dances, and then she cries!"
"She's not so silly as you!" retorted the elder sister, leaning over the little one affectionately. "She understands..."
While Lise cried on her father's knee, I again strapped my harp to my shoulder, and made for the door.
"Where are you going?" asked the gardener. "Wouldn't you like to stay here and work? It won't be an easy life. You'll have to get up very early in the morning and work hard all day. But you may be sure that you won't have to go through what you did last night. You will have a bed and food and you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have earned it. And, if you're a good boy, which I think you are, you will be one of the family."
Lise turned round and, through her tears, she looked at me and smiled. I could hardly believe what I heard. I just stared at the gardener. Then Lise jumped off her father's knee and came up and took my hand.
"Well, what do you say, boy?" asked the father.
A family! I should have a family. I should not be alone. The man I had lived with for several years, who had been almost a father to me, was
