"That piece of music is only for one pair of ears, and they are not yours, papa, nor do they belong to Mr. Traverse. Name something else."

Her father, looked at her in surprise, and then laughed.

"You have raised my curiosity, Dexie. You will surely play it for me when I ask you?" "No, papa; it is sacred to the memory of someone else."

"But what if I command you to do so?"

"You will not do that, papa dear, I know," and she looked over with a world of entreaty in her eyes.

"Well, well, has it come to this!" he said, with a soft laugh. "Did I ever expect to hear Dexie say such a thing to me! See how badly I am used, Traverse; she actually refuses to obey me, knowing very well I cannot punish her for disobedience. Well, well! who would think it of Dexie?"

"Perhaps it is one of her own compositions that she is trying to keep hidden under a bushel, as it were," said Guy, with a sudden inspiration.

"Oh, now you are wrong! and, to prove it, you shall be made to listen to one of my very own pieces as a punishment," and she turned again to the piano.

"Dexie, is that your own?" when the last chords had died away.

"Yes, papa, all mine, and I have a verse or two composed to suit the music; so be careful, or I'll inflict them upon you as well."

"Now, gentlemen," she added, "what else shall I favor you with--instrumental music, or songs, ballads, whistling choruses, or what? I await your orders. I have an extensive repertoire from which you may select," and her fingers pa.s.sed softly over the keys as she smilingly waited.

"Then it is no use to ask for that one piece, Miss Dexie?" Guy said, in a low voice.

"No, sir, not at all! I only play that when--well, when I am sentimentally inclined, you know. Did I not say it was sacred to someone else?" and she lifted a saucy face to Guy's gaze.

Then without a moment's pause Dexie began to sing, and she soon charmed away the frown that had gathered over Guy's face on hearing her frank admission. He stood and watched her as she sang, feeling that she had the power to make or mar his life.

"Now, papa, you have heard quite enough, I am sure," she said, at last, going over to his side. "You are looking tired."

"There! that is just the way I am served. Directly I am beginning to enjoy myself, my pleasures are nipped in the bud;" then changing his tone, he added, "Yes, dear child, I do feel a little weary. If Traverse will be kind enough to wheel me back to my room, I guess I will let Jarvis put me to bed; I hear her rummaging about looking for me now," and he smiled as he drew her face down and kissed it.

"Dear papa, I wish it was in your power to escape her search."

Mr. Sherwood understood the wish, and pressed her hand in reply.

Mr. Traverse was soon back by Dexie's side, watching the hands that were evoking such sweet strains, but she seemed hardly aware of his presence until he said, in a low tone:

"Remembering what you told me, Miss Dexie, I was not surprised to hear that you were shortly to be married. May I know the truth from your own lips, Miss Dexie?"

"I do not know why the report, true or otherwise, should trouble any person, Mr. Traverse," and she stooped to pick up some scattered music, and hide her face at the same time.

"It is more to me than you think, Miss Dexie. If you will admit that the report is true, I will not trouble you with further questions; but I understand, from what your father said, that the rumor is not correct."

"Papa had no right to tell you anything, Mr. Traverse, but I fancy you are not much the wiser for any information he may have given you."

Her blushing cheeks and downcast eyes did certainly convey the impression that her father was not aware how matters stood, so he replied:

"No, I am not much wiser, I must admit, for I cannot make what he told me agree with that engagement ring."

"Do all rings have that significance? Gussie frequently wears several without implicating any gentleman," smiling.

"Dexie, you do not know how much this means to me, and I do not know if I have a right to explain. When I remember how much you told me the night that Gussie read your letter, I do not see why you should hesitate to tell me the rest now."

"What was it that papa told you, Mr. Traverse?" Dexie asked, in a low tone.

"Only that you were free. Yet how can I believe that, with this ring on your finger denying the fact, and that music has some connection with the past, that touches your heart, or why is it sacred to one person alone. I do not understand it, Dexie."

"And I do not expect or desire you to understand it, Mr. Traverse," came the hesitating reply, as Guy awaited her answer. "I could not explain about the music, even to papa, but the ring does not tell the story you are thinking of."

"Well, if I may not hear the music, may I know the story of this?" and he took the hand that wore the ring in his own.

Dexie slipped the ring from her finger and held it towards him. "Oh! what a great fire a little ring has kindled!" said she, smiling.

Guy took the ring in his hand, and noticed the words engraved inside, "Freedom and friendship," with the letters L. and D. in monogram.

"That may mean more than the words imply, and be but a part of what the music signifies after all. I am only too willing to believe in the motto engraved here, but I hope the word 'friendship' is called by its right name. Perhaps the writer of that letter has touched your heart at last, Dexie?" he added, looking intently into her blushing face.

"No! oh, no! The ring did not come from him, Mr. Traverse."

"My thoughts have not been pleasant to me since my eyes rested upon this, and heard the rumor connected with it. Dexie, be honest with me and tell me what it means."

Dexie slipped the ring back on her finger, and shook her head.

"It has been discussed enough, Mr. Traverse, please say no more about it,"

she said, shrinking away from the eager, searching looks that made every moment more embarra.s.sing to her.

"Just a moment, Dexie! Your father said that you asked Mr. Gurney to release you from any promise between you. When speaking of him that evening, you told me that you never had met anyone that you liked better.

Tell me, Dexie, have you met anyone _since_ then, that you asked to be free?" and he bent nearer and looked intently into her face.

Why had he put such a question to her? If she said "No," it would imply that she still cared for one that was betrothed to another; but she could not say "Yes," for that might betray her secret.

Guy's face was very near her own, as she answered with a beating heart:

"You have no right to put such a question to me, Mr. Traverse, and please to remember that I am 'Dexie' to no man but papa," and there was a touch of anger in her tone, to which, however, Guy gave no heed.

"Excuse me, Miss Dexie, if I have offended you," and a bright smile lit up his face. "I _had_ no right to ask that question, but I shall endeavor to find it out all the same," a glow of satisfaction filling his heart.

Gussie entered at this moment and Dexie escaped to her room, but Guy did not think his case quite hopeless as he walked home, thinking it over.

"I believe she does care for me; but shall I ever be able to make her confess it? She must know how I love her. However, I feel free to go to the house as usual, and I may not, after all, repeat the moth-and-candle story, as I feared."

But try as he would, he could not break through the reserve that now surrounded Dexie like a mantle. She welcomed him with the fewest possible words when he called on Mr. Sherwood, and she seemed so cool and stiff that he felt chilled to the heart. It was seldom, indeed, that she addressed a remark to him during an evening. Yet there were times when, suddenly turning his eyes in her direction, he would find her looking at him so intently that his heart would throb with hope and gladness, only to be chilled again at the first word that fell from her lips. For weeks this battle with hope and fear went on, and their friendly intercourse seemed to have come to an end. Her visits to the T. and B. rooms were fewer than ever, and the hour for choir practice was so often changed that he found it almost impossible to see her a moment alone. His visits to the house gave him little pleasure. Mr. Sherwood always brightened up when he arrived, and but for the pleasure these visits gave to the sick man Guy would have hesitated about making them at all.

One evening as he entered the parlor he found the family a.s.sembled and busy over various trifles: Gussie, with a basket of colored wools, was picking out some needed shade; Mrs. Sherwood was by the fire with some fleecy knitting work in her hands, while Flossie sat at her feet intent on fitting a brilliant dress on her newest doll.

Traverse stood in the doorway looking at the family group for some moments until Dexie, who was reading the evening paper to her father, lifted her eyes and acknowledged his presence with a bow. She perused the paper silently, while her father and Mr. Traverse entered into a discussion concerning certain charges made in it against one of the public officers of the State, and at her father's request Dexie read again the article that had called forth the discussion.

When she had finished she lifted her eyes, and a wave of color spread to her very brow as she met Guy's earnest gaze. If there was more animation in the remarks that followed, Mr. Sherwood did not guess the cause of the change.