instantly came to the front. What a lucky happening that he should have
broken down close to this church. He would find out who the girl was
and work it to get invited up to her house. Perhaps he was a fortunate
loser of his bet after all.

As he watched the girl playing gradually the music entered his
consciousness. He was fond of music, and had heard the best of the
world of course. This was meltingly lovely. The girl had fine
appreciation and much expression, even when the medium of her melody
was clumsy things like bells. She had seemed to make them glad as they
pealed out their melodies. He had not known bells could sound like
happy children, or like birds.

His meditations were interrupted by a tap on the door, followed by the
entrance of his host bearing a tray:

"Good-morning," he said pleasantly, "I see you're up. How is the
sprain? Better? Would you like me to dress it again?"

He came over to the desk and set down the tray on which was beautifully
brown buttered toast, eggs and coffee:

"I've brought you just a bite. It's so late you won't want much, for we
have dinner immediately after church. I suppose you wouldn't feel like
going over to the service?"

"Service?" the young man drawled almost insolently.

"Yes, service is at eleven. Would you care to go over? I could assist
you."