metime homesick soul a far-away Yarmouth
garden, with roses such as bloomed no other where and a sweet-faced,
widowed mother gently tending them.

Helena pondered if she did right to be in this house, a guest, with
her own home so near and her parents thus deserted of both their
children, and unconsciously she sighed.

James Barlow and Jane Potter, after the habit of each, drifted into
thought of the wide field of learning and the apparent hopelessness of
ever crossing far beyond its boundaries. "The worst of studying is
that it makes you see how little bit you can ever know;" considered
the ambitious lad, while Jane regretted that she had not been left in
peace in that old house from which she had been rescued and so have
had the chance of her life to learn history on the spot.

More or less, all within the sound of that violin grew thoughtful; but
it was upon poor, "unfinished" Luna that the greatest stress was
wrought. She did not rise to her feet but began to creep toward the
player, inch by inch, almost imperceptibly advancing as if drawn
forward by some invisible force.

Presently they all became aware of her movement and of nothing else,
save that low undercurrent of melody that wailed and sobbed from the
delicate instrument, as the player's own emotions ruled her fingers.

Even the Master sat erect, he who made a study of all mankind, touched
and influenced beyond himself with speculations concerning this aged
woman who was still a child.

"Music! Who knows but that was the key to unlock her closed
intelligence? Oh! what a pity that it came so late! But how sad is
Dorothy's mood to evoke such almost unearthly strains! It's getting
too much for her and for that helpless creature. I must stop it;"
thought the farrier, but didn't put his thought into action. Just then
he could not.

"Makes me think of a snake charmer I saw once," whispered Monty Stark
to Littlejohn.

"Ssh! Luna's cryin'! Did you ever see the beat? Alfy Babcock, stop
snivellin' as if you was at a first class funeral!" returned master
Smith, himself swallowing rather hard as he happened to think of his
mother bringing in her own firewood.

Luna had reached the spot directly before Dorothy and was on her knees
looking up with a timid, fascinated stare. Her small hands were so
tightly clasped that their large veins seemed bursting, and great
tears chased one another down her pink, wrinkled cheeks. Her close
cropped head was thrown back and