247
XIX--THE SECRET CHAMBER 265
XX--"MINE BRUDDER'S FRIEND" 280
XXI--THE CREMONA SPEAKS 298

I

The Master Plays

The fire blazed newly from its embers and set strange shadows to dancing
upon the polished floor. Now and then, there was a gleam from some dark
mahogany surface and an answering flash from a bit of old silver in the
cabinet. April, warm with May's promise, came in through the open
window, laden with the wholesome fragrance of growing things, and yet,
because an old lady loved it, there was a fire upon the hearth and no
other light in the room.

She sat in her easy chair, sheltered from possible draughts, and watched
it, seemingly unmindful of her three companions. Tints of amethyst and
sapphire appeared in the haze from the backlog and were lost a moment
later in the dominant flame. In that last hour of glorious life, the
tree was giving back its memories--blue skies, grey days just tinged
with gold, lost rainbows, and flashes of sun.

Friendly ghosts of times far past were conjured back in
shadows--outspread wings, low-lying clouds, and long nights that ended
in dawn. Swift flights of birds and wandering craft of thistledown were
mirrored for an instant upon the shining floor, and then forgotten,
because of falling leaves.

Lines of transfiguring light changed the snowy softness of Miss Field's
hair to silver, and gave to her hands the delicacy of carved ivory. A
tiny foot peeped out from beneath her gown, clad in its embroidered silk
stocking and high-heeled slipper, so brave in its trappings of silver
buckles that she might have been eighteen instead of seventy-five.

Upon her face the light lay longest; perhaps with an answering love. The
years had been kind to her--had given her only enough bitterness to make
her realise the sweetness, and from the threads that Life had placed in
her hands at the beginning, had taught her how to weave the blessed
fabric of Content.

"Aunt Peace," asked the girl, softly, "have you forgotten that we have
company?"

Dispelled by the voice, the gracious phantoms of Memory vanished. There
was a little silence, then the old lady smiled. "No, dearie," she said,
"indeed I haven't. It is too rare a blessing for me to forget."

"Please don't call us 'company,'" put in the other woman, quickly,
"because we're not."

"'Company,'" observed the young man on the opposite side of the he