more music, wistful, searching, tender. Did it speak of the
things of heaven to other souls there than those two?

He stooped down, and said in a low tone that somehow seemed to blend with
the music like the words that fitted it,

"I will try with all my heart if you will help me."

She smiled her answer, brimming back with deep delight.

Into the final lingering notes of an andante from one of Beethoven's
sublime symphonies clashed the loud voice of Lizzie:

"O Bess! Bess! B-es-see! I say, Bessie! Ma says we'll have to go over by
the cars now if we want to get a seat. The concert's most out, and
there'll be a fierce rush. Come on! And grandma says, bring your friend
along with you if you want." This last with a smirking recognition of the
man, who had turned around wonderingly to see who was speaking.

With a quick, searching glance that took in bedraggled organdie, rose hat,
and pink parasol, and set them aside for what they were worth, George
Benedict observed and classified Lizzie.

"Will you excuse yourself, and let me take you home a little later?" he
asked in a low tone. "The crowd will be very great, and I have my
automobile here."

She looked at him gratefully, and assented. She had much to tell him. She
leaned across the seats, and spoke in a clear tone to her cousin.

"I will come a little later," she said, smiling with her Rittenhouse
Square look that always made Lizzie a little afraid of her. "Tell
grandmother I have found an old friend I have not seen for a long time. I
will be there almost as soon as you are."

They waited while Lizzie explained, and the grandmother and aunt nodded a
reluctant assent. Aunt Nan frowned. Elizabeth might have brought her
friend along, and introduced him to Lizzie. Did Elizabeth think Lizzie
wasn't good enough to be introduced?

He wrapped her in a great soft rug that was in the automobile, and tucked
her in beside him; and she felt as if the long, hard days that had passed
since they had met were all forgotten and obliterated in this night of
delight. Not all the attentions of all the fine men she had met in
society had ever been like his, so gentle, so perfect. She had forgotten
the lady as completely as if she had never heard of her. She wanted now to
tell her friend about her heavenly Friend.

He let her talk, and watched her glowing, earnest face by the dim light of
the sky; for the moon had come out to crown the night with beauty, and the
unnatural brillia