ay
not wish just to stay at home and get married and then keep on staying
at home forever afterwards." And Meg laughed, feeling that her little
brother was hardly old enough to understand her criticism or her
protest. She herself hardly realized why she had made it, except that
the spring restlessness must still be lingering within her. Meg was not
usually a psychologist and there was no reason to doubt that Mollie
would always continue a home-loving soul.

On the broad stone steps of the Wharton home, which was the largest and
finest in Woodford, except the old Ashton place, Billy Webster was
compelled to wait for several moments before the front door bell was
answered. And then the maid insisted that the entire family had gone
out. Mr. and Mrs. Wharton were both driving, Mollie was taking a walk
with friends, and Polly paying a visit. Sylvia was not living in
Woodford at present, but true to her Camp Fire purpose was in
Philadelphia studying to become a trained nurse.

"Do you mean that Miss Polly gave you instructions to say she was not
in?" the young man inquired, trying his best to betray no shadow of
offended pride in his question. "Because if she did not, I am sure that
you must be mistaken. I saw her leave the place where she was calling
some little time ago and----"

But the maid was crimsoning uncomfortably, for at this moment there
arose the sound of some one playing the piano in the music room near
by.

"No, sir," the girl stammered, "no one asked to be excused. Miss Polly
must have come in without my knowing." And in her confusion the girl
ushered the visitor into an almost dark room, without announcing his
name or even suggesting his approach.

However, the recent visitor was so much in the habit of going frequently
to the Wharton home that he did not feel in any sense a stranger there.
Besides, had he not spied the familiar scarlet coat and hat on a chair
outside the music room, where no one but Polly would have placed them?
And was it not like her to be sitting in the semi-darkness with the
shutters of four big windows tightly closed, playing pensively and none
too well on the piano, when the rest of the world was out of doors?

Billy felt a sudden and almost overmastering desire to take the
musician's slender shoulders in his hands and give them a slight shake,
as she continued sitting on the stool with her back deliberately turned
toward him.

"I hope I am not disturbing you," he began with a