“What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the 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. But it was of no avail. They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. THAMES DARRELL. I should like to have had you forgive me.
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