grace and perfect self-possession from others than Wilford Cameron, who
was one of the invited auditors.

"Juno herself could not equal that," he thought, as Katy's fingers flew
over the keys, executing a brilliant and difficult piece without a
single mistake, and receiving the applause of the spectators easily,
naturally, as if it were an everyday occurrence. But when by request she
sang "Comin' through the Rye," Wilford's heart, if he had any before,
was wholly gone, and he dreamed of Katy Lennox that night, wondering
all the ensuing day how his haughty mother would receive that young
schoolgirl as her daughter, wife of the son whose bride she fancied must
be equal to the first lady in the land. And if Katy were not now equal
she could be made so, Wilford thought, wondering if Canandaigua were the
best place for her, and if she would consent to receive a year or two
years' tuition from him, provided her family were poor. He did not know
as they were, but he would ask, and he did, feeling a pang of regret
when he heard to some extent how Katy was circumstanced. Mrs. Woodhull
had never been to Silverton, and so she did not know of Uncle Ephraim,
with his old-fashioned spouse and his older-fashioned sister, but she
knew that they were poor--that some relation sent Katy to school; and
she frankly told Wilford so, adding, as she detected the shadow on his
face, that one could not expect everything, and that a girl like Katy
was not found every day. Wilford admitted all this, growing more and
more infatuated, until at last he consented to join the traveling
party, provided Katy joined it too, and when on the morning of their
departure for the Falls he seated himself beside her in the car, he
could not well have been happier, unless she had really been his wife,
as he so much wished she was.

It was a most delightful trip, and Wilford was better satisfied with