“Why, he must be of a sort, although he is studying to be an artist he told me. Funny I never thought to ask him to try the violin again. I saw him only once, you know. I want you to try it and tell me what you think of it.” She took it from its case and handed it over to him. He handled it reverently, tuned it, and played a few measures. “It is a very fine instrument,” he assured her, “and should be worth a big price.” “As much as a hundred dollars?” asked Ellen eagerly. “It is worth more, though perhaps you may not get anything beyond that. I wish it were my privilege to afford to buy it.” “But you will keep it for me, won’t you, till Reed wants it? I would be so glad if you would take charge of it.” “Why not keep it yourself?” Ellen shook her head. “No, the longer I have it the harder it will be to part with it. I know it will be safe in your hands, and perhaps you will like to play on it sometimes.” “That I surely will. This Mr. Barstow of whom you speak, is his name Peter, by any chance?” “It is indeed, and he knows you. He was so glad when I could tell him about you; said he was going to write to you.” “My old friend, Don Pedro; well, well.” “Oh, do you call him that? So did Daddy, and I do when I am with him. Reed calls him Uncle Pete. Isn’t it funny that Reed’s father and mine both were what Mr. Barstow calls old cronies, and Reed says I am a cronette and he is a cronine in consequence. He is a very ridiculous person.” Mr. Todd looked at her thoughtfully. “And you like him very much, this lad?” “I liked him with a black face; I don’t know how much I should like him with a white one. Probably he will seem quite a different person. I must run along now, or Caro will think I am lost. I shall see you soon again, I hope.” “We begin our organ lessons again on Saturday, don’t we?” “That’s up to you, Mr. Music Master.” “Then by all means. I shall want your report of the sale of your violin as soon as you have it.” “That you shall.” She left him softly playing upon the violin, and went on to mail her note. “It’s just as well that it is addressed to Don Pedro,” she said to herself, “otherwise Mrs. Perry would be consumed with curiosity to know who my new correspondent might be. She keeps a mental list of all my other ones, I am sure.” Caro was just stepping out of the completed party frock when Ellen came into the room where she was. “What a time you have been,” she exclaimed. “You haven’t been shut up in that cold house all this time, I hope.” “Well, no; I was at the church with Mr. Todd part of the time, and I went to the post-office to mail a letter.” “Frank Ives has been trying to get you on the ’phone. He has called up two or three times.” “What did he want?” “He wouldn’t leave his message, although I tried to get him to. He said he must speak to you himself, and that he would come around before one o’clock, so don’t run off again.”