``I see,'' bowed Arkwright with quiet amusement.

``I believe--Mr. Mary Jane--sings,'' observed
Billy, at this point, demurely.

``Why, yes, of course, ' chimed in Aunt Hannah
with some nervousness. ``That's what she--I
mean he--was coming to Boston for--to study
music.''

Everybody laughed.

``Won't you sing, please?'' asked Billy. ``Can
you--without your notes? I have lots of songs
if you want them.''

For a moment--but only a moment--Arkwright
hesitated; then he rose and went to the
piano.

With the easy sureness of the trained musician
his fingers dropped to the keys and slid into
preliminary chords and arpeggios to test the touch of
the piano; then, with a sweetness and purity that
made every listener turn in amazed delight, a
well-trained tenor began the ``Thro' the leaves
the night winds moving,'' of Schubert's Serenade.

Cyril's chin had lifted at the first tone. He was
listening now with very obvious pleasure. Bertram,