ffs and began the
accompaniment again. He had become entirely serious, and he played with
fine enthusiasm and with understanding.

Fred's talent was worth almost as much to old Otto Ottenburg as the
steady industry of his older sons. When Fred sang the Prize Song at an
interstate meet of the TURNVEREIN, ten thousand TURNERS went forth
pledged to Ottenburg beer.

As Thea finished the song Fred turned back to the first page, without
looking up from the music. "Now, once more," he called. They began
again, and did not hear Bowers when he came in and stood in the doorway.
He stood still, blinking like an owl at their two heads shining in the
sun. He could not see their faces, but there was something about his
girl's back that he had not noticed before: a very slight and yet very
free motion, from the toes up. Her whole back seemed plastic, seemed to
be moulding itself to the galloping rhythm of the song. Bowers perceived
such things sometimes--unwillingly. He had known to-day that there was
something afoot. The river of sound which had its source in his pupil
had caught him two flights down. He had stopped and listened with a kind
of sneering admiration. From the door he watched her with a
half-incredulous, half-malicious smile.

When he had struck the keys for the last time, Ottenburg dropped his
hands on his knees and looked up with a quick breath. "I got you
through. What a stunning song! Did I play it right?"

Thea studied his excited face. There was a good deal of meaning in it,
and there was a good deal in her own as she answered him. "You suited
me," she said ungrudgingly.

After Ottenburg was gone, Thea noticed that Bowers was more agreeable
than usual. She had heard the young brewer ask Bowers to dine with him
at his club that evening, and she saw that he looked forward to the
dinner with pleasure. He dropped a remark to the effect that Fred knew
as much about food and wines as any man in Chicago. He said this
boastfully.

"If he's such a grand business man, how does he have time to run around
listening to singing-lessons?" Thea asked suspiciously.

As she went home to her boarding-house through the February slush, she
wished she were going to dine with them. At nine o'clock she looked up
from her grammar to wonder what Bowers and Ottenburg were having to eat.
At that moment they were talking of her.

IV

THEA noticed that Bowers took rather more pains with her now that Fred
Ottenburg often droppe