I love to build myself a garden, and
wander on until I lose myself in it. I'm glad there was a river in
the garden--a nice, still, twilight river."
She flashed up at him, her head sidewise.
"There isn't always." She struck a crashing discord on the piano.
Every one looked up at the sudden noise of it.
"Oh, don't stop!" they cried in chorus, as though each had been
listening intently.
The girl laughed up at Orde in amusement. Somehow this flash of an
especial understanding between them to the exclusion of the others
sent a warm glow to his heart.
"I do wish you had your harp here," said Jane Hubbard, coming
indolently forward. "You just ought to hear her play the harp," she
told the rest. "It's just the best thing you ever DID hear!"
At this moment the outside door opened to admit Mr and Mrs. Hubbard,
who had, according to their usual Sunday custom, been spending the
evening with a neighbour. This was the signal for departure. The
company began to break up.
Orde pushed his broad shoulders in to screen Carroll Bishop from the
others.
"Are you staying here?" he asked.
She opened her eyes wide at his brusqueness.
"I'm visiting Jane," she replied at length, with an affectation of
demureness.
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