Guy came over to the piano, and leaning his elbow on the cover, watched her hands as they flew over the keys, and there was a puzzled look in his eyes as he asked as she finished: "Is that what you were playing just before we came in, Miss Dexie?" "No; but do you not think it is a very pretty thing?" "Oh, yes, very nice; but--" "Well, here is a new song just out, and if you do not think it is beautiful I will agree at once with the one who told you that you were not a good judge of music," and her clear voice sounded through the room. "Yes, that is very fine, Miss Dexie. The words are almost too pathetic, or else you make them sound that way. But let us have the first piece; there is something peculiar in it, I fancy," and he picked up some sheet music from the stand and began to look it over. "Hand it over, if you think you have found it, Mr. Traverse. I will play anything you choose from that untidy mass," and there was an amused look in her eyes as she watched the search. He was not likely to find what he wanted amongst those promiscuous sheets. "But I do not know it when I see it, Miss Dexie," he replied. "I am sure you know what piece it is I refer to." Dexie laughed at his bewildered expression; but as he looked at her, she said in a low tone: "Yes, I know what you mean, Mr. Traverse, but I do not play that piece for everybody." "Not for me, Miss Dexie?" "No." "What's all this about a piece of music, Dexie? I didn't come here to hear you two quarrelling," and her father smiled over at them. "Let us have the piece you were playing first, Dexie. It sounded fairly well, the little I heard of it." "Choose something else, papa. Shall I play your favorite?" and she struck a few chords. "No, not that! What is the reason you can't play the one I ask for?" "That piece of music is only for one pair of ears, and they are not yours, papa, nor do they belong to Mr. Traverse. Name something else." Her father, looked at her in surprise, and then laughed. "You have raised my curiosity, Dexie. You will surely play it for me when I ask you?" "No, papa; it is sacred to the memory of someone else." "But what if I command you to do so?" "You will not do that, papa dear, I know," and she looked over with a world of entreaty in her eyes. "Well, well, has it come to this!" he said, with a soft laugh. "Did I ever expect to hear Dexie say such a thing to me! See how badly I am used, Traverse; she actually refuses to obey me, knowing very well I cannot punish her for disobedience. Well, well! who would think it of Dexie?" "Perhaps it is one of her own compositions that she is trying to keep hidden under a bushel, as it were," said Guy, with a sudden inspiration. "Oh, now you are wrong! and, to prove it, you shall be made to listen to one of my very own pieces as a punishment," and she turned again to the piano. "Dexie, is that your own?" when the last chords had died away.