Lister sat near the piano, and talked to Barbara. He smiled, but his
smile had a touch of gravity. Cartwright thought him a good Canadian. A
bit rugged perhaps, but staunch, and his quiet sincerity was after all
better style than the cleverness of Mortimer's friends. Cartwright
imagined Barbara studied Lister, who did not know. In fact, it looked as
if he were puzzled, and Cartwright smiled. Lister had not his talents;
when Cartwright was young he knew how to amuse a pretty girl.

The man at the piano signed to Barbara, who got up and began to sing.
The song was modern and the melody not marked. Cartwright liked the
Victorian ballads with tunes that haunted one and obvious sentiment, but
because Barbara sang he gave the words and music his languid interest.
After all, the thing was clever. There was, so to speak, not much on the
surface, but one heard an elusive note of effort, as if one struggled
after something one could not grasp. On the whole, Cartwright did not
approve that kind of sentiment; his objects were generally plain. Then
he thought the hint of strain was too well done for a young girl, and
when Barbara stopped he turned to his wife.

"Are you satisfied about Barbara?" he asked.

"Why should I not be satisfied?"

"I have felt she's not quite up to her proper form. Looks thin and
sometimes she's quiet. Then why has young Vernon gone off? I haven't
seen him recently."

"Harry's in town; he goes home in a few days," Mrs. Cartwright replied.
She hesitated and resumed, "I imagined he wanted to marry Barbara,
although she told me nothing about this. Barbara does not tell one
much."

"Do you think she likes him?"

"I don't know, but I rather think if she had liked him she would have
refused."

"Ah!" said Cartwright thoughtfully. "Well, Vernon's a good sort, but I
see some light; the girl is sensitive and very proud! No doubt, she
feels her Canadian adventure--ridiculous, of course! But Barbara's hard
to move. All the same, if Vernon's the proper man and is resolute--"

"I doubt if he is the proper man," Mrs. Cartwright replied.

Cartwright pondered. Sometimes Clara did not say all she thought, and
his glance wandered back to the group at the other end of the room.
Barbara was again talking to Lister. He looked thoughtful and her face
was serious. They were obviously not engaged in philandering; Cartwright
felt their quiet absorption was significant. After a minute or two,
however, the party about the