"Oh, I'm not in the least lonely," she laughed merrily. "I have a great
many interesting things to do, and I love music and books."

"Oh, yes, I forgot you are very fond of music. Harry Temple told me about
it," said Hannah. Again there was that disagreeable hint of something more
behind her words, that aggravated Marcia almost beyond control. For an
instant a cutting reply was upon her lips and her eyes flashed fire; then
it came to her how futile it would be, and she caught the words in time
and walked swiftly down the stairs. David watching her come down saw the
admiring glances of all who stood in the hall below, and took her under
his protection with a measure of pride in her youth and beauty that he did
not himself at all realize. All the way home he talked with her about the
new theory of railroad construction, quite contented in her companionship,
while she, poor child, much perturbed in spirit, wondered how he would
feel if he knew what Hannah had said.

David fell into a deep study with a book and his papers about him, after
they had reached home. Marcia went up to her quiet, lonely chamber, put
her face in the pillow and thought and wept and prayed. When at last she
lay down to rest she did not know anything she could do but just to go on
living day by day and helping David all she could. At most there was
nothing to fear for herself, save a kind of shame that she had not been
the first sister chosen, and she found to her surprise that that was
growing to be deeper than she had supposed.

She wished as she fell asleep that her girl-dreams might have been left to
develop and bloom like other girls', and that she might have had a real
lover,--like David in every way, yet of course not David because he was
Kate's. But a real lover who would meet her as David had done that night
when he thought she was Kate, and speak to her tenderly.

One afternoon David, being wearied with an unusual round of taxing cares,
came home to rest and study up some question in his library.

Finding the front door fastened, and remembering that he had left his key
in his other pocket, he came around to the back door, and much preoccupied
with thought went through the kitchen and nearly to the hall before the
unusual sounds of melody penetrated to his ears. He stopped for an instant
amazed, forgetting the piano, then comprehending he wondered who was
playing. Perhaps some visitor was in the parlor. He would listen and find
out. He