nded of
dread and expectation. Music was the passion of his life, so true a
passion that it was torture to him to hear the travesties which passed
under its name. Bearing in mind the very small proportion of girls who
could really sing, he wished that the proposal had never been made,
since the result would probably mean a jarring episode in a delightful
day.

"But you have no piano," he said uncertainly. "How can--"

"It's not a piano would stop me, if I wanted to sing. I don't need an
accompaniment," Pixie declared, and Stephen shuddered in spirit.
Unaccompanied songs were terrible ordeals to the listeners. Eyes as
well as ears were tortured. One never knew where to look! He pondered
as he drank his tea how the situation could be ameliorated, if not
escaped, and reminded himself thankfully that if necessary he could hire
a piano and send it in. Then, looking up, he met Pat's eyes fixed upon
him with a quizzical smile. Pat showed at times an uncomfortable
faculty for, reading his friends' thoughts, and Stephen realised that it
was in force at this minute, and was thankful that at least it did not
find vent in words. Pixie's happy complacence about her own powers was
so far removed from ordinary conceit that he dreaded to wound it. He
therefore hastily changed the conversation, and avoided the subject of
music for the rest of his call.

The next morning, after arranging for Pat's comfort, Pixie retired to
her eerie, and spent what appeared to the invalid an unconscionably long
time over her toilette. After the cheerful manner of flats, by slightly
raising the voice it was easy to carry on a conversation with a person
in an adjoining room, and Pat therefore favoured his sister with a
statement that he "expected to see something pretty fetching, after all
this time!" "Ha! Ha!" cried Pixie in return, and her voice gave no
hint of modesty. Nevertheless, and for all his expectations, Pat gave a
gasp of surprise when a few minutes later she sailed into the room.

She wore a coat and skirt of a soft, mouse-coloured velvet, very quiet
and nondescript in hue, and the hat, with its curling brim, was covered
with the same material. So far, very douce and quiet; but entirely
round the hat, and curling gracefully over one side, was a magnificent
ostrich plume, which was plainly the pride of its owner's heart. She
tossed her head in answer to Pat's uplifted hands, pirouetted round and
round, and struck a telling