Four Serious Songs had begun, and one could not move during
their performance.

"My sister is so careless," whispered Margaret.

"Not at all," replied the young man; but his voice was
dead and cold.

"If you would give me your address--"

"Oh, not at all, not at all;" and he wrapped his
greatcoat over his knees.

Then the Four Serious Songs rang shallow in Margaret's
ears. Brahms, for all his grumbling and grizzling, had
never guessed what it felt like to be suspected of stealing
an umbrella. For this fool of a young man thought that she
and Helen and Tibby had been playing the confidence trick on
him, and that if he gave his address they would break into
his rooms some midnight or other and steal his walkingstick
too. Most ladies would have laughed, but Margaret really
minded, for it gave her a glimpse into squalor. To trust
people is a luxury in which only the wealthy can indulge;
the poor cannot afford it. As soon as Brahms had grunted
himself out, she gave him her card and said, "That is where
we live; if you preferred, you could call for the umbrella
after the concert, but I didn't like to trouble you when it
has all been our fault."

His face brightened a little when he saw that Wickham