throbbed in every beat of his heart.

Gracie, standing beside him, watching with fascinated eyes the strong
hands that charmed from the old piano such music as probably it had never
before uttered, was enthralled also, but only in a superficial sense. She
was keenly interested in the play of his fingers, which seemed to her
quite wonderful, as indeed it was.

He took no more notice of her admiring gaze than if she had been a fly,
pouring out his magic flood of music with eyes fixed straight before him
and lips that were sometimes hard and sometimes tender. He might have
been a man in a trance.

And then very suddenly the spell was broken. For no apparent reason, he
fell headlong from his heights and burst into a merry little jig that set
Gracie dancing like an elf.

He became aware of her then, threw her a laugh, quickened to a mad
tarantella that nearly whirled her off her feet, finally ended with a
crashing chord, and whizzed round on the music-stool in time to catch her
as she fell gasping against him.

"What a featherweight you are!" he laughed. "You'll dance the Thames on
fire some day. Giddy, what?"

Gracie lay in his arms in a collapsed condition. "You--you made me do
it!" she panted.

"To be sure!" said Piers. "I'm a wizard. Didn't you know? I can make
anybody do anything." There was a ring of triumph in his voice.