He was willing to have the furniture sold to defray his father's
small debts, but the violin was his own. It had not even been given
him by his father. Though the latter purchased it, the money which
it cost had been given to Philip by a friend of the family. He
rightly thought that he had no call to sell it now.

"Frank," said he to his boy-friend, "I want you to put away my violin
safely, and keep it until after the auction."

"Of course I will, Phil; but won't you want to play on it!"

"Not at present. I'll tell you why I want it put away."

And Philip told his friend about Nick's application to purchase it,
and the liberal offer he had made.

"Nick's generosity never will hurt him much," said Frank, laughing.
"What in the world did he want of your violin?"

"He wants to make himself popular with the girls."

"He'll never do that, even if he learns to play like an angel!" said
Frank. "You ought to hear the girls talk about him. He couldn't get
a single one of them to go home with from singing-school last
winter. He teased my sister to go, but she told him every time she
was engaged to some one else."

The two days that intervened between the funeral and the auction
passed, and the last scene connecting Philip with the little cottage