Mrs. Wood. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. 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. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. " Something in the child's voice, something in her manner, warned the spinster that her well-meaning inquisitiveness had received a set-back and that it would be dangerous to press it forward again.
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