ciable and reserved person in the eyes of all the Station. What
a score for her little self!

Being essentially of a friendly disposition, she saw no reason why he
should not become her particular friend. Not as if she were a creature
like Mrs. Fox, or other women who flirted--perish the thought! There
could therefore be no possible wrong.

"Have you ever driven your car?" he asked indulgently.

"Never."

"Nervous?"

"I don't think so, only no one ever showed me how."

"Shall I teach you?"

"Will you? What a dear you are!" she cried with eyes sparkling and
dimples in full play as she seized the lapels of his coat and made him
swear not to back out. "It will be great! What a surprise for Ray--you
won't mention it? I can fancy myself hopping into the chauffeur's seat,
and whoof! gliding away before his eyes. I shall dream of it all night."

"And of me?" he asked looking at his watch and recalling his intention
to visit Sombari before midnight.

"Of course. That goes without saying if it is about your car!" twirling
lightly on her toe with the grace of a born dancer.

"I find it difficult to believe you are married," he said with a crooked
smile. "Your husband should call you 'Joy.'"

"He invents all sorts of pet names far sweeter."

"Anyhow, I shall think of you as 'Joy,'" he amended, taking up his cap
from the piano.

"I can't fancy you thinking of any one so frivolous as myself," she
laughed. "But you are not going, surely? We haven't even begun to talk!"

The open piano and her frank disappointment drew him to dally with
temptation, and he seated himself on the music stool, uninvited, to run
his fingers over the keys. "You were playing the _Liebestraum_. Will you
let me play it to you?" he coolly suggested, anxious to give her a
lesson as to how it should be interpreted; and without waiting for her
consent, began to play.

Joyce drew up full of interest and pleasure to listen and watch,
instantly aware that he was no self-advertised musician. As she had no
conceit in regard to her one and only accomplishment, she was ready and
willing to learn from him.

Dalton played with the technique and sympathy of a great artist. Though
the opening movement was soft and low, every note fell like drops of
liquid sweetness, clear and true--the melody thrilling her with its
tender appeal. Insensibly it grew stronger and louder, the pace
quickened, till the crash of chords and the rippling rush of sound
caused her