“Of course, I know you understand, Nannie, but one doesn’t need to crowd his soul with small things just because he’s poor. If he will he can see beauty that is not for the eye of his senses.” John glanced up at his pictures. “Lucy tells me all these beautiful water colors are yours, John.” Nannie let her gaze travel about the room. “They’re simply exquisite.” “Well,” John’s tone was deprecating, “if I’d had a chance I might have done something at it.” “It’s too bad you don’t have time to be more with artistic people, John,” Lucy put in with an affectionate look at her husband. “I love pretty things too, John,” Nannie said quickly. Lucy glanced at her mother, who was regarding John. “I’ll have to play for you after dinner,” Nannie offered a few minutes later. “I remember Lucy told me you played,” he answered. “We got the piano over a year ago, but Lucy never has time to touch it, and I can’t do anything but drum.” “It takes a lot of will power to practice regularly,” replied Nannie, “but then I love my music so. I never let a day go by without practicing.” “We’ll have to go to some concerts next winter,” John continued. “How nice,” Nannie smiled, “but I don’t know whether I shall be here next winter. There may be somebody else who’ll have something to say about that.” She glanced down demurely. “Listen to that, Lucy!” “Of course you’ll be here next winter, Mamma.” Lucy spoke with an effort. “And we’ll go to the symphony concerts.” John was enthusiastic. “It’ll be great, Nannie. Lucy and I went to some of them, but it’s hard to drag her out of the house in cold weather. You remember, Lucy, we heard Beethoven’s Symphony in C Minor. It was simply grand, Nannie.” “It must have been,” Nannie agreed sweetly. “The allegro makes me think of the human soul struggling against its fate.” John’s gaze was rapt. “The andante is--is the doubt and questionings of the heart--and their answer.” His face was flushed. Dimmie, his mouth open, stared at his father with a fascinated look. “Music makes me feel just that way, John,” Nannie confided, “but I can’t express myself as well as you.” “It takes me right off my feet, Nannie. There’s the scherzo of that C Minor. There’s where the struggle gets breathless. The trio and recapitulation sort of wonder about the struggle and tragedy. Then there’s a little pianissimo that is near the answer. Then the finale comes along and takes it up till it winds up in a kind of shout of victory. It’s great, Nannie!” Lucy watched John admiringly. “You ought to have been a critic, John,” Nannie declared. “Music means so much to me, too.” “I’m nutty about it, Nannie,” John vowed boisterously. “We’ll go to all the concerts that come along and have a general good time.” Lucy said nothing. “Can I have a good time, too?” asked Dimmie suddenly. “Sure, Son,” John agreed. “Now Nannie’s here we’ll all have a good time, won’t we?” * * * * *