will try it again, but
don't stand looking at me, there's a good fellow, but go away by the window
and look out at--nothing."

Again those wondrous chords filled the room, but the masterful touch that
usually accompanied Dexie's fingering was now wanting, for it was a
trembling hand that followed the printed notes. More the once she faltered,
but after a period of waiting she would repeat the passage and go on. But
presently a longer silence occurred, and Lancy turned from the window to
look at her. Tears were standing in her eyes, and she sat with her hands
clasped tightly before her. Drawing her away from the piano, he led her to
the sofa, and the silent sympathy in his manner was more eloquent than any
flow of words could have been.

"It seems foolish, does it not, Lancy?" she said at last, "but it is no
common piece of music, and I shall never be able to play it before
strangers."

"No; neither shall I, Dexie. That music speaks to your heart and mine
alike. Let it be for ourselves alone, will you, Dexie?" and the grey eyes
looked very dark in their earnestness.

"Well, have it so, Lancy. I will be able to play it properly by and by, I
expect. But I never noticed the name of it."

"It is simply called 'A Song Without Words.' Let us name it again to suit
ourselves."

"Very well. I came in to ask you into our side of the house. The picnic is
being discussed; but I don't feel a bit like going back myself now--that
music has almost upset me."

"Well, stay with me and let us have a quiet 'sing' by ourselves here; that
will be pleasanter than discussing a picnic--shall we?"

When Hugh looked into the door a short time afterwards, he saw nothing that
need have caused such a frown to wrinkle up his manly brow, for Lancy was
only playing a simple ballad, and Dexie was seated in a low rocker some
distance from the piano, her hands clasped behind her head, singing softly,
her whole appearance seeming to suggest rest and contentment. Perhaps that
very suggestion goaded him to bitterness, for why couldn't Dexie be as
contented and happy in his society as in Lancy's?

The picnic came off as planned, and was enjoyed by all excepting Hugh, who,
finding he could not have the companion of his choice, coaxed little
Gracie and Ruth Gurney to go with him, and they willingly consented. But
Gussie looked with angry eyes on the fine turnout, "just wasted on those
little torments," as the light buggy flew past the more sober-going