She stopped beside me as we were pacing the lawn. "Florimond Anastase! you did not say so? Do you mean the great player? I have heard of that person." Her face flushed vividly, as rose hues flowing into pearl, her aspect altered, she seemed convicted of some mistaken conclusion; but, recovering herself almost instantly, resumed,-- "Thank you for telling me that story,--it will make me better, I hope. I do not deserve to have grown up so well and strong. May I do my duty for it, and at least be grateful! You did not say what was done with the symphony?" "The person I mentioned would not allow it to be retained. And, indeed, what else could be done? It was buried in her virgin grave,--a maiden work. She sleeps with her music, and I know not who could have divided them." "You have told me a story that has turned you all over, like the feeling before a thunder-storm. I will not hear a word more. You cannot afford to talk of what affects you. Now, let me be very impertinent and change the key." "By all means; I have said quite enough, and will thank you." "There is Laura in the arbor, just across the grass; we will go to her, if you please, and you shall see her pretty pink frock among the roses, instead of my black gown. On the way I will tell you that there is some one, a lady too, so much interested in you that she was going down to your neighborhood on purpose to find out about you; but I prevented her from coming, by saying you would be here, and she answered,-- "'Tell him, then, to come and call upon me.'" "It can only have been one living lady who would have sent that message,--Miss Lawrence. Actually I had forgotten all about her, and she returns upon me with a strong sense of my own ingratitude. I will certainly call upon her, and I shall be only too glad to identify my benefactress." "That you cannot do; she will not allow it,--at least, to this hour she persists in perfect innocence of the fact." "That she provided us both with exactly what we wanted at exactly the right time? She chalked out my career, at least. I'll make her understand how I feel. Is she not a character?" "Not more so than yourself, but still one, certainly; and a peculiarity of hers is, that generous--too generous almost--as she is, she will not suffer the slightest allusion to her generosities to be made, nor hint to be circulated that she has a heart at all."