For from across the hall came wonderful music--not the lesson Keineth should be practicing, but fairy things! And happy notes, too, as though Keineth's own hands were trying to dispel the heavy shadows about her and give her comfort and hope! Mr. Lee was carefully reading the report of the disaster in the afternoon paper. "You know it's a funny thing--no one on the boat had seen John Randolph! Maybe--" "Oh, maybe he got left!" cried Billy, who all through the tragic moments had been unusually silent. Suddenly the doorbell rang. Its clang startled each one of them! The music across the hall stopped with a crash! They heard Keineth flying to the door. In a moment she returned, holding a yellow envelope in her hand. Though it was addressed to her she carried it to Mr. Lee. "Please read it," she said in a trembling voice. "I think it is from Daddy! I--can't!" Peggy crossed quickly to Keineth's side and put one arm close about her. Mr. Lee tore open the cablegram, read the lines written in it, tried to speak and, failing, put the sheet of paper in Keineth's hands. "Oh!" Keineth cried. "Oh!" Something like a laugh caught in her throat. Changed plans--did not sail on boat. Thank God! --JOHN RANDOLPH. Both of Peggy's arms flew around her now; they hugged one another and both cried. And Aunt Nellie was crying, too, and Mr. Lee had to wipe his eyes. Billy was saying over and over, "Didn't I just have a hunch, now?" The shadows lifted from their hearts, the children listened while Mr. Lee read to them the full account of the disaster which had stirred every nation of the globe. Billy and Peggy asked many questions, but Keineth was very silent. There were other little girls whose fathers had gone down into the sea--her heart went out to them in deepest pity. "I feel as though this morning was weeks ago," she said afterwards as she and Peggy curled upon the window seat with some sewing. From outside the sun was shining through the bare branches of the trees, making dancing figures on the polished floor. Keineth sighed. "It makes one realize how unhappy lots and lots of people are." "And it makes you feel as though you could do _anything_ to help them," answered Peggy, staring thoughtfully out of the window where on the city street humanity surged backward and forward in all the forms of joy and sorrow known by God's children. CHAPTER XXI PILOT GOES AWAY