d to her his wonderful
music. It was all new and strange to her, and she could not know how
little there really was to it. She had decided as he played that she liked
the kind best that made her think of the birds and the sunny sky, rather
than the wild whirlly kind that seemed all a mad scramble. She meant to
ask him to play over again what he played at the beginning, but he struck
into a Scotch love ballad. The melody intoxicated her fancy, and her face
shone with pleasure. She had not noticed the words particularly, save that
they were of love, and she thought with pain of David and Kate, and how
the pleading tenderness might have been his heart calling to hers not to
forget his love for her. But Harry Temple mistook her expression for one
of interest in himself. With his eyes still upon hers, as a cat might
mesmerize a bird, he changed into a minor wail of heart-broken love, whose
sadness brought great tears to Marcia's eyes, and deep color to her
already burning cheeks, while the music throbbed out her own half-realized
loneliness and sorrow. It was as if the sounds painted for her a picture
of what she had missed out of love, and set her sorrow flowing tangibly.

The last note died away in an impressive diminuendo, and the young man
turned toward her. His eyes were languishing, his voice gentle,
persuasive, as though it had but been the song come a little nearer.

"And that is the way I feel toward you, dear," he said, and reached out
his white hands to where hers lay forgotten in her lap.

But his hands had scarcely touched hers, before Marcia sprang back, in her
haste knocking over the chair.

Erect, her hands snatched behind her, frightened, alert, she stood a
moment bewildered, all her fears to the front.

Ah! but he was used to shy maidens. He was not to be baffled thus. A
little coaxing, a little gentle persuasion, a little boldness--that was all
he needed. He had conquered hearts before, why should he not this
unsophisticated one?

"Don't be afraid, dear; there is no one about. And surely there is no harm
in telling you I love you, and letting you comfort my poor broken heart to
think that I have found you too late--"

He had arisen and with a passionate gesture put his arms about Marcia and
before she could know what was coming had pressed a kiss upon her lips.

But she was aroused now. Every angry force within her was fully awake.
Every sense of right and justice inherited and taught came flocking