ak;
only the music fills me with such feelings."

"You must let me sing for you again," he said, rather low, as we walked
slowly on.

"Ah; if you only will," I answered, with a deep sigh of satisfaction.

We walked on in silence till we reached the gate: he opened it for me
and then said, "Now I must leave you, and go back for the oars."

I was secretly glad of this; since the walk had reached its natural
limit and its end must be accepted, it was a relief to approach the
house alone and not be the subject of any observation.

Breakfast had began: no one seemed to feel much interest in my entrance,
though flaming with red roses and red cheeks.

They were of the sex that do not notice such things naturally, with much
interest or admiration. They had hardly "shaken off drowsy-hed," and had
no pleasure in anything but their breakfast, and not much in that.

"How do you manage to get yourself up and dressed at such inhuman
hours?" said Mary Leighton, querulously.

"You are a reproach to the household, and we will not suffer it," said
Charlotte Benson.

"I never could understand this thing of getting up before you are
obliged to," added Henrietta plaintively.

But Sophie seemed well satisfied, particularly when Mr. Langenau came in
and I looked down into my cup of tea, instead of saying good-morning to
him. He did not say very much, though there was a good deal of babble
among the others, principally about his music.

It was becoming the fashion to be very attentive to him. He was made to
promise to play in the evening; to bring down his books of music for the
benefit of Miss Henrietta, who wanted to practice, Heaven knows what of
his. His advice was asked about styles of playing and modes of
instruction; he was deferred to as an authority. But very little he
seemed to care about it all, I thought.

CHAPTER VII.

THREE WEEKS TOO LATE.

_Qui va a la chasse perd sa place_.

_De la main a la bouche se perd souvent la soupe_.

Distance all value enhances!
When a man's busy, why, leisure
Strikes him as wonderful pleasure.
Faith! and at leisure once is he,
Straightway he wants to be busy.

_R. Browning_.

Two weeks more passed: two weeks that seem to me so many years when I
look back upon them. Many more walks, early and late, many evenings of
music, many accidents of meeting. It is all like a dream. At seventeen
it is so easy to dream! It does not take two w