er her name," he laughingly added.

"I have no doubt that Miss Gussie feels thankful she secured first choice,"
said Plaisted, "and that her good looks entitled her to it," and he looked
over at Gussie with bold admiration in his glance.

"I don't think looks had anything to do with it," said Mr. Sherwood, "else
this curly pate would have had first choice," reaching over to pass his
hand over the brown rings of hair.

"Seems to me this conversation is much too personal," said Dexie, rising
from her seat. "I think a change would be welcome to one and all," and she
sat down before the piano.

Mr. Sherwood smiled his approval. He was very proud of his daughter's
musical ability, for she could sing and play to suit the taste of any
audience, and could arouse the inner emotions of those who had any feelings
that were capable of being stirred at all. One of her accomplishments,
which she seldom exhibited before strangers, was that of whistling. Few
people have heard the exquisite notes that can be produced by an adept in
the art, but there are whistlers and whistlers, whose notes differ as much
as those of the linnet and the crow. While accompanying herself on the
piano, Dexie could produce such wonderful trills and quavers, with such
purity of tone, that she could almost rival the very birds themselves, and
she never failed to surprise and charm all that heard her. Wishing to
please her father, as well as convince Mr. Plaisted that her name did not
make her a "ninny," she selected some of her best pieces and sang her most
charming songs; then, after a few soft notes, she broke into a bird-song,
whistling the notes so faithfully true that Mr. Plaisted was startled as
well as delighted, and the conversation he had begun with Gussie came to an
abrupt end.

"Well, Miss Dexie, I must confess that you have surprised me," said he, as
Dexie resumed her seat at the window. "I never heard the equal of that from
the boards of any concert-room in New York. No one would object to paying
'dear for his whistle,' if that quality was purchasable. You would make a
fortune on the stage."

"I hope Dexie will never use her whistle as a money-making gift," said her
father; "but I think, myself, it is about as pretty music as one ever
hears."

"You can bet your life, Sherwood, she would create such a furore in musical
circles that she would make something besides money for you. Bring her out,
Sherwood; it will pay you better than speculatin