spring time,
his bridal day, music means joy. In man's winter time, his burial day,
music means comfort. The heaven-born muse has added to the happiness
of the world. Diotti is a great genius. His art brings rest and
tranquillity to the wearied and despairing," and she did not speak
again until they had reached the house.

The lights were turned low when father and daughter went into the
drawing-room. Mr. Wallace felt that he had failed to convince Mildred
of the utter worthlessness of fiddlers, big or little, and as one
dissatisfied with the outcome of a contest, re-entered the lists.

"He has visited you?"

"Yes, father."

"Often?"

"Yes, father," spoken calmly.

"Often?" louder and more imperiously repeated the father, as if there
must be some mistake.

"Quite often," and she sat down, knowing the catechizing would be
likely to continue for some minutes.

"How many times, do you think?"

She rose, walked into the hallway; took the card basket from the table,
returned and seated herself beside her father, emptying its contents
into her lap. She picked up a card. It read "Angelo Diotti," and she
called the name aloud. She took up another and again her lips voiced
the beloved name. "Angelo Diotti," she continued, repeating at
intervals for a minute. Then looking at her father: "He has called
thirty-two times; there are thirty-one cards here and on one occasion
he forgot his card-case."

"Thirty-two!" said the father, rising angrily and pacing the floor.

"Yes, thirty-two. I remember all of them distinctly."

Her father came over to her, half coaxingly, half seriously. "Mildred,
I wish his visits to cease; people will imagine there is a romantic
attachment between you."

"There is, father," out it came, "he loves me and I love him."

"What!" shouted Mr. Wallace, and then severely, "this must cease
immediately."

She rose quietly and led her father over to the mantel. Placing a hand
on each of his shoulders she said:

"Father, I will obey you implicitly if you can name a reasonable
objection to the man I love. But you can not. I love him with my whole
soul. I love him for the nobility of his character, and because there
is none other in the world for him, nor for me."

IX

Old Sanders as boy and man had been in the employ of the banking and
brokerage firm of Wallace Brothers for two generations. The firm
gradually had advanced his position until now he was confidential
adviser and gener