” “John, maybe I don’t want to try out for orchestra right now because my heart isn’t in it. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. She was given a glimpse of his soul. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. .
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