this minute," observed
Burns to his wife as he met her in the hall outside the door. "The
prettiest convalescent has less appeal for a doctor than a young woman
of less good looks in strapping health--naturally, for he gets quite
enough of illness and the signs thereof. But to a lusty chap like King
Miss Anne's present frail appearance would undoubtedly enlist his
chivalry. Those are some eyes of hers, eh?"

"I think I have never seen more beautiful eyes," Ellen agreed heartily.

Her husband laughed. "I have," he said, and went his way, having no time
for morning musicales.

That afternoon Anne Linton, having had all her pillows removed and
having obediently lain still and silent for two long hours, was
permitted to sit up again and write a note to King to tell him of the
joy of the morning:

DEAR MR. KING:

It was as if the twilight were falling, with the stars coming
out one by one. By and by they were all shining, and I was on
a mountain top somewhere, with the wind blowing softly
against my face. It was dark and I was all alone, but I
didn't mind, for I was strong, strong again, and I knew I
could run down by and by and be with people. Then a storm came
on, and I lifted my face to if and loved it, and when it died
away the stars were shining again between the clouds.
Somewhere a little bird was singing--I opened my eyes just
there, and your Franz was looking at me and smiling, and I
smiled back. He seemed so happy to be making me happy--for he
was, of course. After a while it was dawn--the loveliest dawn,
all flushed with pink and silver, and I couldn't keep my eyes
shut any more for looking at the musician's face. He is a real
musician, you know, and the music he makes comes out of his
soul.

When it was all over and he and Mrs. Burns were gone, my tray
came in. This is a frightful confession, but I am not a real
musician; I merely love good music with some sort of
understanding of what it means to those who really care, as
Franz does. To me, after all the emotion, my tray looked like
a sort of solid rock that I could cling to. And I had a piece
of wonderful beefsteak--ah, now you are laughing! Never
mind--I'll show you the two scenes.

Upon the second sheet was something which made Jordan King open his
eyes. There were two little drawings--the simplest of pencil sketches,
yet exe