the flat space. One _could_ go down the hill, even that was school
grounds, fenced in at the sides, and up here where there was a gate,
kept locked for the most part. The sun was going down behind the next
hill, and across in the other State, almost as if there were two suns.
What gorgeous coloring, changing, melting into new and indescribable
tints and burnishing here, making scarlet shades there as if the
tree-tops were on fire, and the rocks molten silver. How could it take
on or give out so many colors?

She had an impression someone was near and turned. It was the new
scholar. There was a wistful expression in her eyes that touched Helen.
No one had taken any special notice of her. Helen remembered her own
warm welcome. Of course, now everyone was busy with lessons and had
settled upon her friends and chums.

What could she say? To ask her if she felt at home would be a platitude,
and Helen knew she did not come any nearer, as if she might be
intruding. What a slim figure she had, and her frock was of fine, soft
material that clung like the draperies in some of the "studies." She
wore a very handsome chain and the watch edge just showed above her
belt. Her hands were long and thin and she had a nervous manner of using
them. She wore two beautiful rings.

Helen took a step towards her. "I wonder if you had such a battle with
music as I did," she began, with girlish gayety. "It seemed as if I must
have tried Madame's patience until there was nothing left for you. I am
beginning to wonder how an excellent player who has an ear attuned to
harmony can endure such stupidity."

Miss Craven stared with a sort of uncertainty.

"I should not think you were stupid. You look so bright and vivacious."

"I am afraid I wasn't born with the art of music along with the love for
it."

"I have studied a little, alone mostly, and find I have some bad habits.
And I like it beyond everything."

If she only wouldn't be so stiff and distant!

"I never touched a piano until I came here. And one can't expect to be
an expert in four lessons," Helen said in a half-humorous tone.

Miss Craven flushed and it was not a pretty color.

"You like it here? Were you a new scholar this year? You look very
young."

"I was fourteen in the summer. Yes, I am a new scholar. But I have grown
very much at home."

Then there was a pause. Helen bethought herself of the other question.

"Yes, I like it extremely. It is such a beautiful place.