to hold her breath in an ecstasy lest she should be robbed of
a single delight. Now and then, she glanced at his face and she knew
that, for the moment, she had ceased to exist for him. His strange,
jade-green eyes with their flecked irids had widened as though with
inspiration. He saw visions as he played, gazing intently into space;
Joyce wondered what he saw, sure that it was beautiful, and passionately
sad. Gradually, the passion and dignity of the music having reached its
climax, it grew weary and spent. The glorious melody sighed its own
requiem and softly died away on a single note.

For a moment neither spoke, till Joyce gave a hysterical sob that broke
the spell. "It is too wonderful--the way you play!" she cried
breathlessly. "It makes my flesh creep and my heart stand still. I know
now why you chose to play the _Liebestraum_!----"

He smiled back at her like the culprit he was.

"I had dared to attempt its murder!--believe me, I shall never play it
again!"

"I wanted to show you how it might be played, but I do not dare to
criticise."

"You have done so, scathingly!--Oh! I feel so small."

"Then I am sorry I played it."

"I am infinitely glad. You will have to teach me something more than
motoring," she said wistfully, her blue eyes pleading. "You will have to
tell me how I should play. I want to hear you all day long!"

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "I shall be delighted to give you all the
help I can."

"Honor Bright said yesterday that you once sang to her--I am jealous!
Won't you sing to me?"

"Did she tell you of the occasion?"

"Yes, and how good you were to her."

"She is a heroine--_Honor Bright_," he repeated her name with curious
tenderness.

"She thinks you are a wonderful person, altogether."

"Does she?" he asked quickly, a shadow falling suddenly over his face at
a thought which was evidently disturbing. "How am I wonderful?"

"I don't know. She said something about great depths in your nature. She
believes you are tremendously good, inside, but that you will not show
it because you have been hit very hard and feel like hitting back."

He was silenced for a moment.

"What made her say that?" he asked while continuing to draw subdued
harmonies from the instrument.

"It was to explain your attitude towards people. You are so hard and
cold. But what does all that matter? The main thing is, I want you to
sing, and you must!" She laid her hands over his on the keys with pretty