ttle, and the
gilt cross-bar came off in her hand. She stuck the piece on again as
well as she could, and as she did not like to disturb any of the things
she stood still, in the middle of the room, wondering vaguely whether
Madame Bonanni's visitors usually sat down, and if so, on what.

Suddenly her eyes fell upon a piano, standing behind several easels
that almost completely hid it. A piano usually has a stool, and
Margaret made her way between the easels and the little oriental
tables, and the plants, and the general confusion, towards the
keyboard. She was not disappointed; there was a stool, and she sat down
at last.

The air was oppressive and she wished herself out in the Pare Monceau,
in the May morning. The time seemed endless. By sheer force of habit
she slowly turned on the revolving stool and touched the keys; then she
struck a few chords softly, and the sound of the perfect instrument
gave her pleasure. She played something, trying to make as little noise
as possible so long as she remembered where she was, but presently she
forgot herself, her lips parted and she was singing, as people do who
sing naturally.

She sang the waltz song in the first act of Gounod's _Romeo and
Juliet_, and after the first few bars she had altogether forgotten that
she was not at home, with her own piano, or else standing behind her
teacher's shoulder in the Boulevard Malesherbes.

Now there are not many singers living who can sing the waltz song and
accompany themselves without making a terrible mess of the music; but
Margaret did it well, and much more than well, for she was not only a
singer with a beautiful voice but a true musician. There was not a
quaver or hesitation in her singing from beginning to end, nor a false
note in the accompaniment.

When she had finished, her lips closed and she went on playing the
music of the scene that follows. She had not gone on a dozen bars,
however, when a head appeared suddenly round the corner of a picture on
an easel.

'Ah, bah!' exclaimed the head, in an accent of great surprise.

Its thick dark-brown hair was all towzled and standing on end, its
brown eyes were opened very wide in astonishment, and it was showing
magnificently strong teeth, a little discoloured.

Margaret sprang to her feet with an apology for having forgotten
herself, but the head laughed and came forward, bringing with it a
large body wrapped in an enormous gown of white Turkish towelling,
evidently he