ancy," he cried, attempting to seize her hand. "I must call you
'Nancy.' I must call you more than that. With you by my side there will
be nothing I cannot do. I shall make your name ring down the ages--like
Madame Recamier, or--or, Mona Lisa. I already have planned a piece for
us. You are to be Miranda, and I shall be Ferdinand. You are just
emerging from your bath, and I am peering through the bushes at you----"

The picture was such a dreadful one that Nancy could endure the
situation no longer. From being anxious to let him down as easily as
possible--for he was, after all, paying her a compliment--she wished the
scene over at any cost. He was making the most holy of moments a
travesty. She felt amazingly self-possessed.

"I appreciate the honour of your intention, Mr. Balch"--the language was
that of Jane Austen, whom she had just been reading--"but I cannot allow
it to go on. In fact," she hastened to add, for he showed signs of going
on, "I shall have to ask you to go."

The D scale, laboriously achieved, floated in from the music room.
Leofwin turned away and Nancy, standing aside for him, was dismayed to
note that his little eyes were filled with sorrow and disappointment.

"It is true," he said, "that I have for some time wanted you for myself,
but of late another reason has been urging me on. If it hadn't been for
it, I don't think I could have come to you. You see, it is my sister.
She has set her heart upon a trip abroad; not an ordinary touristy trip,
you know, but a real one--to Italy. We have now only enough money for
one to go--I gladly resigned it to her--but she does not feel that she
can leave me alone. If only you could have--but there, my dear, I'll not
go on."

Nancy was a little disconcerted by this sudden turn. The situation had
become almost impersonal. "I'm sorry," she said. She wished that she
could have thought of a better remark--a better one came in the night,
when she was going over the whole affair--but he seemed grateful even
for that.

"Thank you," he said. "But Elfrida will be so disappointed. You simply
can't imagine how this will spoil all her plans. But perhaps you will
let me try again some time?"

Harry was following his right hand with his left, an octave lower, with
almost no success.

"No, I am afraid not," said Nancy as they stood in the doorway. She
softened her words, however, by holding out her hand.

"Good-bye," he replied, gently taking it; and then, following