e back up here. I'll want to talk to you."

So Peter went down. And, evading inquiries in the hallway, made his way
out through the hall and pantry. Here a surprise awaited him, for as he
opened the door there was a skurry of light footsteps and in a moment he
was in the pantry face to face with Beth Cameron, who seemed much
dismayed at being discovered.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked in amazement.

She glanced at his white shirt front and then laughed.

"I came to help Aunt Tillie dish up."

"You!" He didn't know why he should have been so amazed at finding her
occupying a menial position in this household. She didn't seem to belong
to the back stairs! And yet there she was in a plain blue gingham dress
which made her seem much taller, and a large apron, her tawny hair
casting agreeable shadows around her blue eyes, which he noticed seemed
much darker by night than by day.

She noticed the inflection of his voice and laughed.

"Why not? I thought Aunt Tillie would need me--and besides I wanted to
peek a little."

"Ah, I see. You wanted to see Miss Peggy's new frock through the
keyhole?"

"Yes--and the other one. Aren't they pretty?"

"I suppose so."

"I listened, too. I couldn't help it."

"Eavesdropping!"

She nodded. "Oh, Mr. Nichols, but you do play the piano beautifully!"

"But not like an angel in Heaven," said Peter with a smile.

"Almost--if angels play. You make me forget----" she paused.

"What----?"

"That's there's anything in the world except beauty."

In the drawing-room Freddy, having found himself, had swept into a song
of the cabarets, to which there was a "close harmony" chorus.

"There's that----," he muttered, jerking a thumb in the direction from
which he had come.

But she shook her head. "No," she said. "That's different."

"How--different?"

"Wrong--false--un--unworthy----"

As she groped for and found the word he stared at her in astonishment.
And in her eyes back of the joy that seemed to be always dancing in them
he saw the shadows of a sober thought.

"But don't you like dance music?" he asked.

"Yes, I do, but it's only for the feet. Your music is for--for _here_."
And with a quick graceful gesture she clasped her hands upon her breast.

"I'm glad you think so, because that's where it comes from."

At this point Peter remembered his mission, which Beth's appearance had
driven from his mind.

"I'll play for you sometime," he said.

He went