are wealthy."

Money, always money! Peter ground his teeth over his pipestem. Eminently
it would be a good thing for Harmony, this nice boy in his well-made
evening clothes, who spoke Harmony's own language of music, who was
almost speechless over her playing, and who looked up at her with eyes
in which admiration was not unmixed with adoration.

Peter was restless. As the music went on he tiptoed out of the room and
took to pacing up and down the little corridor. Each time as he passed
the door he tried not to glance in; each time he paused involuntarily.
Jealousy had her will of him that night, jealousy, when he had never
acknowledged even to himself how much the girl was to him.

Jimmy was restless. Usually Harmony's music put him to sleep; but that
night he lay awake, even after Peter had closed all the doors. Peter
came in and sat with him in the dark, going over now and then to cover
him, or to give him a drink, or to pick up the cage of mice which Jimmy
insisted on having beside him and which constantly slipped off on to the
floor. After a time Peter lighted the night-light, a bit of wick on a
cork floating in a saucer of lard oil, and set it on the bedside table.
Then round it he arranged Jimmy's treasures, the deer antlers, the cage
of mice, the box, the wooden sentry. The boy fell asleep. Peter sat in
the room, his dead pipe in his teeth, and thought of many things.

It was very late when young McLean left. The two had played until they
stopped for very weariness. Anna had yawned herself off to bed. From
Jimmy's room Peter could hear the soft hum of their voices.

"You have been awfully good to me," McLean said as he finally rose to
go. "I--I want you to know that I'll never forget this evening, never."

"It has been splendid, hasn't it? Since little Scatchy left there has
been no one for the piano. I have been lonely sometimes for some one to
talk music to."

Lonely! Poor Peter!

"Then you will let me come back?"

"Will I, indeed! I--I'll be grateful."

"How soon would be proper? I dare say to-morrow you'll be
busy--Christmas and all that."

"Do you mean you would like to come to-morrow?"

"If old Peter wouldn't be fussed. He might think--"

"Peter always wants every one to be happy. So if you really care--"

"And I'll not bore you?"

"Rather not!"

"How--about what time?"

"In the afternoon would be pleasant, I think. And then Jimmy can listen.
He loves music."

McLean, having found hi