under."

"It's a pity her programme is so old-fashioned," said the young lady
of the office, passing his chair to give an order to the page. "It's
true only the elderly people went in, but our week-enders are very
up-to-date in everything. There's a lot of Londoners here, and those
from Torquay are frightfully musical. If they don't get Debewssy, it
seems they think nothing of the programme."

"Well, I confess that Debussy seems a trifle alien to this time and
place," said Appleton, "and these old ballads suit my taste much
better. I think I'll take a nearer view."

He shoved his pipe into its case and strolled down the corridor,
pausing behind the heavy velvet portieres that shut off the
drawing-room. There was no buzz of conversation going on, because
there was not a sufficient number of persons to buzz. A very quiet,
stodgy audience it was, with no friendly grouping; just a few old
gentlemen here and a few old ladies there, sometimes with their
prematurely aged and chastened paid companions by their sides. There
were some girls of fifteen or sixteen, too, scattered about, a few of
them accompanied by prim governesses.

Appleton heard the entrance of some one from the anteroom beyond the
grand piano, then a few chords, struck by hands that loved the ivory
keys and evoked a reciprocal tenderness every time they touched them;
then:

"Near Woodstock Town in Oxfordshire
As I walked forth to take the air,
To view the fields and meadows round,
Methought I heard a mournful sound."

So the chronicle ran on until the crisis came:

"The lady round the meadow ran,
And gathered flowers as they sprang.
Of every sort she there did pull
Until she got her apron full."

The history of the distracted lady's unhappy passion persevered:

"The green ground served her as a bed,
The flowers a pillow for her head.
She laid her down and nothing spoke.
Alas! for love her heart was broke."

Appleton was at first too enchanted with the mischievous yet
sympathetic rendition of this tragedy to do anything but listen. The
voice, the speech, were so full of color and personality he forgot for
the moment that there would be a face behind them; but there was an
irresistible something in the line, "Until she got her apron full,"
that