There was a pleasant silence in the room. Every one's thoughts were on the piquant-faced Irish girl, whose sprightly manner and charming personality made her a favorite, and her plump, loquacious husband, whose ready flow of funny sayings never seemed to diminish. "There aren't any wishing rings nowadays," sighed Grace, "so there's no use in saying, 'I wish Nora and Hippy were here.' Come on, David, and sing for us. Miriam says you can, and you know it wouldn't be nice in you to contradict your sister." "You can sing, 'Ah, Moon of My Delight,'" suggested Miriam to her brother. "It is Omar Khayyam set to music, you know"--she turned to Grace--"from the song cycle, 'In a Persian Garden.'" "I love it," commented Anne, her eyes dreamy. "Do sing it, David." As Miriam went to the piano the whirr of the electric bell came to their ears. Grace glanced interrogatively at David. "Perhaps it's a telegram," she commented. David, who had just risen from his chair to go to the piano, stopped short and listened. "False alarm. Must be the doctor. One of the maids is sick." He crossed to the piano where Miriam already stood, turning over a pile of music. Having found the song for which she was searching, she took her place before the piano and began the quatrain's throbbing accompaniment. David's voice rang out tunefully. He sang with considerable feeling and expression. He had reached the exquisite line, "Through this same Garden--and for One in Vain!" when a clear high voice from the doorway took up the song with him. With a startled cry of "Nora!" Grace ran to the door. The song came to an abrupt end. Miriam whirled on the piano stool. One glance and she had joined the group that now surrounded a slender figure with a rosy, laughing face and a saucy turned-up nose. "Nora O'Malley! You dear thing! No wonder David didn't hear from Hippy. But where is he? Not far away, I hope." "Ah!" called a voice from behind the thin silk curtain of a small alcove at one end of the hall, and Hippy emerged, the picture of offended dignity. "Missed at last," was his sweeping rebuke. "I had begun to think I was doomed to languish behind that green silk curtain for life. It's all Nora's fault. If I had been immured there forever and always, it would be her fault just the same. She proposed that I should hide. 'Make them think I came alone. They will be so disappointed,' was her deceitful counsel. And I believed her and wrapped myself in the curtain to wait for you to be disappointed. I see it all now. It was merely a scheme to attract attention to herself. She is jealous of my popularity." "Oh, hush, you wicked thing," giggled Nora. "You didn't give any one time even to ask for you." "That sounds well," was Hippy's lofty retort, "but remember, all that prattles is not truth." "Squabbling as usual," groaned David, shaking Hippy's hand with an energy that belied the groan.