"I assure you, on my honor--" "Sh! cousin Ethan's looking at us." "What if he is? Great Cæsar's ghost! Not that I blame him for looking at _you_. Specially lately, you--" "Hush! and don't talk nonsense." But cousin Ethan had lifted his head impatiently, and was making her a little sign for silence. She shrank together as if at a blow. Ethan went back to the piano when Julia finished, and bent over her, speaking thanks and praises. He was asking for something of Brahms'. Julia began again. This was another success. Cousin Ethan was really impressed; no doubt about it. Emmie went over to the piano in the midst of the general conversation, and said in her clear treble: "Me and Val can sing 'Maid of Athens.'" He seemed not to hear; he was talking so earnestly to Julia. _She_ heard plainly enough. She was only pretending to be oblivious. But Emmie was not to be done out of a share of the festivity. "Cousin Ethan, do _you_ know 'Maid of Athens?'" "Eh? What? 'Maid of Athens?' Yes." "So do Val and me. Let's sing it." "Very well. Will you accompany?" he asked Julia. She nodded, and began the prelude. Val didn't budge. Emmie beckoned. Val studied the long, narrow, heelless silk shoes on her grandmother's feet, and made no sign. "Come, Val," said Ethan, in an off-hand way. "Go and sing when cousin Croesus calls," murmured Harry Wilbur. "I don't care about 'Maid of Athens,'" said Val, out loud. "Oh yes; come," Ethan urged, good-humoredly. "Go and sing when our guests ask you," said Mrs. Gano, in a reproving undertone; and then, as Val got up to obey, she said, in her usual clear accents: "Not too loud. You know I don't like boisterous singing in a parlor." Val began with the others, in a voice quite depressed enough to please Mrs. Gano. Even Emmie's faint fluting came out more effectively, and Val could easier have wept than gone on singing. Emmie sang two more songs, Julia laughing and coquetting with Ethan over prelude and interlude; and then Julia played a nocturne. Harry Wilbur made a despairing grimace at this last performance. He rose presently with a determined manner, and quietly bade Mrs. Gano and her son good-night. Val went with him to the front door. They stood talking about her approaching departure, and how Wilbur, too, hoped to get something to do "in the East," so that he might be a witness of Val's triumphs. The conversation pleased her, but her grandmother would be "making eyebrows" if she stayed so long. "Good-night, then. Look here, Val"--he took her hand warmly in both his own--"I've been awfully cut up lately. I was beginning to be afraid"--he nodded his yellow head towards the parlor--"afraid you might be--" "Don't be a great silly;" and she ran back to the family circle. After Julia finished, she got up while Ethan was still talking to her, and made her good-nights all round very prettily. "But it's quite early," Ethan had said. "They always send for me at nine." "Send! Don't you live next door?"