It was much too late to think of this, however, for his toilet was not begun, and so he turned back within the room, and lounging in dressing-gown and slippers, spent an hour reading the morning papers and smoking. At the end of that time, he started up suddenly and began his toilet, with an air of haste and impatience. As soon as he was dressed, he took his hat and gloves and went downstairs. Just as he opened the front door, he caught sight of the young girl mounting the steps opposite, on her return home. She was in the act of taking off her veil, and Randall thought she did so with a certain air of relief from a bondage which irked her. Once more he got a brief impression of that young and exquisite face, and then, without having looked at him at all, she opened the door with a latch-key and entered the gloomy old house, and the dingy door closed behind her. Randall went his way, and presently found himself seated at a beautifully appointed lunch table with a party of gay and brilliant people, among whom he was made very welcome, and where he laughed and chattered for an hour, but throughout it all he could not shake off the impression that this girl had made upon him, and her pure, young face, and plain, dark garments rose before his vision, as alien to this scene as the impression of some rapt, ascetic nun. After lunch there was a general demand that Mr. Randall should play to them, and rather more obligingly than usual he yielded to the request, and, going to the piano, he began with certain powerful chords and impressive pauses, that soon compelled the company to perfect silence and attention. He was a fine musician, and quite accustomed to having his playing treated deferentially, but he did not often take the trouble to play to people as he was playing now. His audience had expected something light and brilliant, and instead of that it was only sacred music that he played--harmonies and masses from the great masters of old, with an improvised arrangement and connection of his own. He rose from the piano and said good-bye abruptly, hurrying away from the enthusiastic praise of his audience, and walking quickly back to his lodgings, where he spent the remainder of the day. Some men dropped in to see him, but either they were hurried, or they found him unamusing, for they presently went away, and at twilight he was left alone. More than once, he had gone to look out on the opposite house, but the dull, gray front of that dismal structure was unsuggestive of the least hint of its radiant young inmate. When the lamps were lighted, at last, and the curtains drawn, and the servant, having attended to his comfort, had left him quite alone for the evening, he opened his piano and began to play. It must have been for hours that he sat there, with no music before him, playing on and on, thinking, thinking, thinking to those beautiful strains.