time I came. Forgive me, grandfather."

"Felix, I forgive you, but I ask you to promise me, here and now,
that you will never again, as long as you live, touch a violin." Dusky
crimson rushed madly over the boy's face. He gave a cry as if he had
been lashed with a whip. Old Abel sprang to his feet.

"Don't you ask such a promise of him, Mr. Leonard," he cried furiously.
"It's a sin, that's what it is. Man, man, what blinds you? You ARE
blind. Can't you see what is in the boy? His soul is full of music.
It'll torture him to death--or to worse--if you don't let it have way."

"There is a devil in such music," said Mr. Leonard hotly.

"Ay, there may be, but don't forget that there's a Christ in it, too,"
retorted old Abel in a low tense tone.

Mr. Leonard looked shocked; he considered that old Abel had uttered
blasphemy. He turned away from him rebukingly.

"Felix, promise me."

There was no relenting in his face or tone. He was merciless in the
use of the power he possessed over that young, loving spirit. Felix
understood that there was no escape; but his lips were very white as he
said,

"I promise, grandfather."

Mr. Leonard drew a long breath of relief. He knew that promise would be
kept. So did old Abel. The latter crossed the floor and sullenly took
the violin from Felix's relaxed hand. Without a word or look he went
into the little bedroom off the kitchen and shut the door with a slam
of righteous indignation. But from its window he stealthily watched his
visitors go away. Just as they entered on the maple path Mr. Leonard
laid his hand on Felix's head and looked down at him. Instantly the boy
flung his arm up over the old man's shoulder and smiled at him. In
the look they exchanged there was boundless love and trust--ay, and
good-fellowship. Old Abel's scornful eyes again held the golden flash.

"How those two love each other!" he muttered enviously. "And how they
torture each other!"

Mr. Leonard went to his study to pray when he got home. He knew that
Felix had run for comforting to Janet Andrews, the little, thin,
sweet-faced, rigid-lipped woman who kept house for them. Mr. Leonard
knew that Janet would disapprove of his action as deeply as old Abel had
done. She would say nothing, she would only look at him with reproachful
eyes over the teacups at suppertime. But Mr. Leonard believed he had
done what was best and his conscience did not trouble him, though his
heart did.

Thirteen years befo