because the heroine is actually Irish."

There was a general laugh over Nora's remark in which Mrs. Gray joined.

"It's a case of Ireland forever, isn't it Nora?" said Grace teasingly.

"'Fine and dandy are the Irish,'" said Nora with a grin, quoting from a
popular song she had heard in a recent musical comedy. "But stop teasing
me, and let Mrs. Gray go on with her story."

"When the baby sister, whose name was Edith, was about three years old,
the beautiful young mother died and left the husband inconsolable. A
year later he was killed in a railroad accident, and the elder sister,
named Margaret, was left with only little Edith to comfort her. The
father had been a rich man, so they had no anxiety about money, and
lived on year after year in their beautiful old home, with everything
heart could wish.

"As Edith grew older, she developed a decided talent for music, and
when she was fifteen Margaret decided to take her abroad and allow her
to enter one of the great conservatories of Europe. They went to
Leipsic, and Edith, who had high hopes of one day becoming a concert
pianiste, continued her studies under the best instructors that money
could procure. Things ran along smoothly until Edith met a young Italian
named Guido Savelli, who was studying the violin at the same
conservatory. His brilliant playing had already created a sensation
wherever he appeared, and he gave promise of being a virtuoso.

"He fell violently in love with Edith, who had her mother's beautiful blue
eyes and the combination of white skin and black hair that go to make an
Irish beauty. She returned his love, and after a brief engagement they
were married, much against the wishes of Margaret, who thought them both
too young and impressionable to know their own minds."

"And did they live happy ever after?" asked Grace eagerly.

"That is the sad part of my story," said Mrs. Gray, sighing. "They were
anything but happy. They both had too much of the artistic temperament
to live peaceably. Besides, Guido Savelli was thoroughly selfish at
heart. Next to himself, his music was the only thing in the world that
he really cared for. When they had been married for about a year and a
half he played before the king, and soon became the man of the hour. He
neglected his beautiful young wife, who, in spite of their frequent
quarrels, loved him with a pure and disinterested affection.

"Finally he went on a concert tour through the principal European
ci