There was to be no escaping to his room. Mrs. Lister laid her arm across his shoulders and together they went out to the porch. The air was cool and sweet; near by a woodpecker tapped slowly, wrens chattered, anxious about their late nestlings, song sparrows trilled, and flickers and robins hopped under the spray which Dr. Lister was sending over his cannas and elephant ears. Mrs. Lister, with Richard at her side, felt her heart at rest. Utterly had vanished definitely, leaving no trail behind him. She could now think of Richard's future, both immediate and far removed. She asked him whether he would like to pay a visit to Dr. Lister's kin in St. Louis. "No, indeed," said Richard. "But you used to want to go out there!" "But I don't now, mother--unless you want me to take you," he added with sudden compunction. "Oh, no," said Mrs. Lister. Further conversation was postponed by the arrival of the Myerses to call. When all possible themes of common interest had been discussed and they had moved on to talk of the same subjects at the Scotts', darkness had come. Mrs. Lister did not wish to give up the idea of a visit. "You have had a busy winter and this fall you will go to the university, and you may wish to do something else in vacations." Richard cleared his throat. He sat about a dozen feet away from his father and mother and facing them as a culprit might have sat. "But I don't wish to go to the university, mother." "What do you wish to do?" Richard almost said passionately, "You know what I wish to do!" But he would have been wrong. Mrs. Lister was certain that Richard had put away all childish things. "I wish to study music." Mrs. Lister dropped her hands, palm upward, into her lap. "I thought you were over _that_!" said she, much more sharply than Richard had ever heard her speak. "I thought you had given it up." "I have never given it up for a minute. I never shall give it up." Mrs. Lister gasped. Richard might almost as well have announced that he had ceased to think of her or love her. She could not brook difference of opinion in her son. "It cannot be. I cannot hear of it. You are a man and you must do a man's work." "It is a man's work!" cried Richard. The pain in the back of his neck was growing more acute. "Father, don't you consider it a man's work?" Dr. Lister moved uneasily. "We haven't had musicians in the family thus far. Suppose you tell us about it." Richard drew a long breath. "It's what I have wanted to do ever since I have wanted to do anything! I have planned for it all my life. I have practiced for professional, not for amateur playing. The two are very different. Miss Thomasina has drilled me with the greatest care. I have taken pains with my German and French and Italian. I have talent, Miss Thomasina says so, and I know that I have no other talent, at least. I--" "Thomasina has been encouraging you, I suppose?" said Mrs. Lister.