e letter hurriedly and his
friend was a blind-writer, but that made no difference to Harry. He could
fill in facts enough about the grandeur of the music from his own
imagination to make up for the lack of a little matter like the name of a
composer. He was keen enough to see that Marcia was more interested in
music than in anything he said, therefore he racked his brains for all the
music talk he had ever heard, and made up what he did not know, which was
not hard to do, for Marcia was very ignorant on the subject.

At the door they paused. Marcia was eager to get in. She began to wonder
how David felt, and she longed to do something for him. Harry Temple
looked at her admiringly, noted the dainty set of chin, the clear curve of
cheek, the lovely sweep of eyelashes, and resolved to get better
acquainted with this woman, so young and so lovely.

"I have not forgotten my promise to play for you," he said lightly,
watching to see if the flush of rose would steal into her cheek, and that
deep light into her expressive eyes. "How about this afternoon? Shall you
be at home and disengaged?"

But welcome did not flash into Marcia's face as he had hoped. Instead a
troubled look came into her eyes.

"I am afraid it will not be possible this afternoon," said Marcia, the
trouble in her eyes creeping into her voice. "That is--I expect to be at
home, but--I am not sure of being disengaged."

"Ah! I see!" he raised his eyebrows archly, looking her meanwhile straight
in the eyes; "some one else more fortunate than I. Some one else coming?"

Although Marcia did not in the least understand his insinuation, the color
flowed into her cheeks in a hurry now, for she instinctively felt that
there was something unpleasant in his tone, something below her standard
of morals or culture, she did not quite know what. But she felt she must
protect herself at any cost. She drew up a little mantle of dignity.

"Oh, no," she said quickly, "I'm not expecting any one at all, but Mr.
Spafford had a severe headache this morning, and I am not sure but the
sound of the piano would make it worse. I think it would be better for you
to come another time, although he may be better by that time."

"Oh, I see! Your husband's at home!" said the young man with relief. His
manner implied that he had a perfect understanding of something that
Marcia did not mean nor comprehend.

"I understand perfectly," he said, with another meaning smile as though he
and s