“It could be both!” exclaimed the girl, eagerly. “That would be the very thing; there ought not to be anything in a music-room, you know, except the piano and just a few chairs, and the rest all flowers. The pictures ought all to be appropriate--pictures of nature, of things that dance and are beautiful; oh, I could lose myself in such a room as that!” and Helen ran on, completely carried away by the fancy, and forgetting even Mr. Harrison for a moment. “I have often dreamed of such a place,” she said, “where everything would be sympathetic; it's a pity that one can't have a piano taken out into the fields, the way I remember reading that Haydn used to do with his harpsichord. If I were a violinist, that's the way I'd do all my playing, because then one would not need to be afraid to open his eyes; oh, it would be fine--” Helen stopped; she was at the height of her excitement just then; and the climax came a moment afterwards. “Miss Davis,” asked the man, “would you really like to arrange such a music-room?” The tone of his voice was so different that the girl comprehended instantly; it was this moment to which she had been rushing with so much exultation; but when it came her heart almost stopped beating, and she gave a choking gasp. “Would you really like it?” asked Mr. Harrison again, bending towards her earnestly. “Why, certainly,” said Helen, making one blind and desperate effort to dodge the issue. “I'll tell you everything that is necessary.” “That is not what I mean, Miss Davis!” “Not?” echoed Helen, and she tried to look at him with her frank, open eyes; but when she saw his burning look, she could not; she dropped her eyes and turned scarlet. “Miss Davis,” went on the man rapidly, “I have been waiting for a chance to tell you this. Let me tell you now!” Helen gazed wildly about her once, as if she would have fled; then she stood with her arms lying helplessly at her sides, trembling in every nerve. “There is very little pleasure that one can get from such beautiful things alone, Miss Davis, and especially when he is as dulled by the world as myself. I thought that some day I might be able to share them with some one who could enjoy them more than I, but I never knew who that person was until last night. I know that I have not much else to offer you, except what wealth and position I have gained; and when I think of all your accomplishments, and all that you have to place you so far beyond me, I almost fear to offer myself to you. But I can only give what I have--my humble admiration of your beauty and your powers; and the promise to worship you, to give the rest of my life to seeing that you have everything in the world that you want. I will put all that I own at your command, and get as much more as I can, with no thought but of your happiness.”