there."

"And can you tell me _why_ Mrs. Maze should be telegraphing me about my
piano?"

There was a note of resentment in Miss Desmond's voice, and it silenced
the laughing explanation which Gaites had almost upon his tongue. He
fell very grave in answering, "I can't, indeed, Miss Desmond."

"Perhaps she found out that it had been a long time on the way, and did
it out of pure good-nature, to relieve your anxiety."

This was what Miss Axewright conjectured, but it seemed to confirm Miss
Desmond's worst suspicions.

"That is what I should like to be _sure_ of," she said.

Gaites thought of all his own anxieties and interferences in behalf of
the piano of this ungrateful girl, and in her presence he resolved that
his lips should be forever sealed concerning them. She never would take
them in the right way. But he experimented with one suggestion. "Perhaps
she was taken with the beautiful name on the piano-case, and couldn't
help telegraphing just for the pleasure of writing it."

"Beautiful?" cried Miss Desmond. "It was my grandmother's name; and I
wonder they didn't call me for my great-grandmother, Daphne, and be done
with it."

The young man who had chosen himself master of ceremonies at the hop the
night before now proposed from the social background where he had
hitherto kept himself, "_I_ will call you Daphne."

"_You_ will call me Miss Desmond, if you please, Mr. Ellett." The owner
of the name had been facing her visitors from the piano-stool with her
back to the instrument. She now wheeled upon the stool, and struck some
chords. "I wish you'd thought to bring your fiddle, Millicent. I should
like to try this piece." The piece lay on the music-rest before her.

"I will go and get it for her," said the ex-master of ceremonies.

"Do," said Miss Desmond.

"No, no," Gaites protested. "I brought Miss Axewright, and I have the
first claim to bring her fiddle."

"I'm afraid you couldn't either of you find it," Miss Axewright began.

"We'll both try," said the ex-master of ceremonies. "Where do you think
it is?"

"Well, it's in the case on the piano."

"That doesn't sound very intricate," said Gaites, and they all laughed.

As soon as the two men were out of the house, the ex-master of
ceremonies confided: "That name is a very tender spot with Miss Desmond.
She's always hated it since I knew her, and I can't remember when I
_didn't_ know her."

"Yes, I could see that--too late," said Gaites. "But w