"No," said Patty, throwing herself back on the bed and flinging up her arms again, "no--when I come to think of it--I was not vindictive all the time. At first I was _savage_--O yes, there is no doubt about it. Then Herr Wüllner's fears and frights were so charming that I got amused a little; I felt jocose and mischievous. Then I felt Mrs. Duff-Scott looking at me--_studying_ me--and that made me serious again, and also quieted me down and steadied me. Then I was a little afraid that I _might_ blunder over the music--it was a long time since I had played that thing, and the manuscript was pale and smudged--and so I had to brace myself up and forget about the outside people. And as soon as Herr Wüllner reached me, and I began safely and found that we were making it, oh, so sweet! between us--then I lost sight of lots of things. I mean I began to see and think of lots of other things. I remembered playing it with mother--it was like the echo of her voice, that violin!--and the sun shining through a bit of the red curtain into our sitting-room at home, and flickering on the wall over the piano, where it used to stand; and the sound of the sea under the cliffs--_whish-sh-sh-sh_--in the still afternoon--" Patty broke off abruptly, with a little laugh that was half a sob, and flung herself from the bed with vehemence. "But it won't do to go on chattering like this--we shall have daylight here directly," she said, gathering up her frock and shoes. CHAPTER XIV. IN THE WOMB OF FATE.