ing or scissors; very rarely ventured to bring
her some curious or pretty thing when ships came in from China only
sat and thought of her, imagined that this was his parlor, this her
worktable, and they two sitting there alone a happy man and wife.

At this stage of the little evening drama he would be conscious of such
a strong desire to do something rash that he took refuge in a new form
of intoxication and proposed music, sometimes so abruptly that Rose
would pause in the middle of a sentence and look at him, surprised to
meet a curiously excited look in the usually cool gray eyes.

Then Phebe, folding up her work, would go to the piano, as if glad to
find a vent for the inner life which she seemed to have no power of
expressing except in song. Rose would follow to accompany her, and
Archie, moving to a certain shady corner whence he could see Phebe's
face as she sang, would give himself up to unmitigated rapture for
half an hour. Phebe never sang so well as at such times, for the kindly
atmosphere was like sunshine to a bird, criticisms were few and gentle,
praises hearty and abundant, and she poured out her soul as freely as a
spring gushes up when its hidden source is full.

In moments such as these Phebe was beautiful with the beauty that makes
a man's eye brighten with honest admiration and fills his heart with a
sense of womanly nobility and sweetness. Little wonder, then, that the
chief spectator of this agreeable tableau grew nightly more enamored,
and while the elders were deep in whist, the young people were playing
that still more absorbing game in which hearts are always trumps.

Rose, having Dummy for a partner, soon discovered the fact and lately
had begun to feel as she fancied Wall must have done when Pyramus wooed
Thisbe through its chinks. She was a little startled at first, then
amused, then anxious, then heartily interested, as every woman is in
such affairs, and willingly continued to be a medium, though sometimes
she quite tingled with the electricity which seemed to pervade the air.
She said nothing, waiting for Phebe to speak, but Phebe was silent,
seeming to doubt the truth till doubt became impossible, then to shrink
as if suddenly conscious of wrongdoing and seize every possible pretext
for absenting herself from the "girls' corner," as the pretty recess was
called.

The concert plan afforded excellent opportunities for doing this, and
evening after evening she slipped away to practice