“But _I_ do; I wish it,” Guy replied in that tone which people generally obeyed; and casting a half-frightened look at the sea of faces around her, Maddy suffered him to lead her to the piano, sitting quite still while he found what he wished her to play. It was his favorite song, and one which brought out Maddy’s voice in its various modulations. “Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but that song. I cannot do it justice;” Maddy whispered, pleadingly, but Guy answered resolutely, “You can.” There was no appeal after this, but a resigned, obedient look, which made the doctor gnash his teeth as he leaned upon the instrument. What right had Guy to command Maddy Clyde, and why should she obey? and yet, as the doctor glanced at Guy, he felt that, were he in Maddy’s place, he should have done the same. “No girl can resist Guy Remington,” he thought. “I’m glad there’s a Lucy Atherstone over the sea.” And with a smile of encouragement for Maddy, who was pale with nervous timidity, he listened while her sweet, bird-like voice trembled for a moment with fear, and then, gaining confidence from its own sound, filled the room with melody, and made those who had wandered off to other parts of the building hasten back to see who was singing. Maria Cutler had presided at the piano earlier in the evening, as had one or two other young ladies, but to none of these had Guy paid half the attention he did to Maddy, staying constantly by her, holding her fan, turning the leaves of music, and dictating what she should play. “There’s devotion,” tittered a miss in long ringlets; “but she really does play well,” and she appealed to Maria Cutler, who answered, “Yes, she keeps good time, and I should think might play for a dance. I mean to ask her,” and going up to Guy she said, “I wish to speak to—to—Jessie’s _governess_. Introduce me, please.” Guy waited till Maddy was through, and then gave the desired introduction. In a tone not wholly free from superciliousness, Miss Cutler said: “Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We are aching to exercise our feet—that is, if Mr. Remington does not object. I dare say old Mr. and Mrs. Deacon Crane will start for home instanter at the first note of anything as wicked as Money Musk.” When the party was first talked about, Agnes had proposed that it be a regular dancing party, with suitable music provided for it. But Guy, who knew how such a thing would shock the puritanical prejudices of many of the people of Sommerville, who held dancing as a sin, said, “No—he wished all his guests to enjoy themselves. So he would not hire music, or have dancing as a rule. If any of the young people wished to amuse themselves that way, they were welcome to do so, and he presumed some one of their number could play sufficiently well for quadrilles, and possibly waltzing.” So, when appealed to on the subject by Miss Cutler, he replied, “Certainly; dance by all means if you wish to, and Maddy is willing to play.”