The afternoon that followed was a very pleasant one, and in her healthy enjoyment of her new surroundings Gretel soon forgot the discomfort of the morning. They did not see the Godfreys again that day, but Kitty Sharp arrived in time for dinner, and the four friends spent a very merry evening together. Mrs. Chester had heard of Gretel’s music, and after dinner she asked her to play, which the girl was always pleased to do, and for nearly an hour she sat at the piano, playing the dear old things she loved, while Mr. and Mrs. Chester listened with real pleasure and admiration. “You are a very talented young lady,” Mr. Chester said, smiling kindly, as Gretel rose from the piano. “Very few girls of your age play as well as you do. You must have had excellent teachers.” “I have studied for the past three years at school,” said Gretel, “but my father gave me my first lessons before I was six. I always feel as if I owe everything I know to him.” “Your father was a great musician,” said Mrs. Chester; “you have reason to be proud of him.” “I am proud of him,” said Gretel, with shining eyes, and she suddenly felt happier than she had done all day. “I like that little girl, Molly,” Mr. Chester said to his wife, when Gretel had gone to join her friends on the piazza. “There is something so honest and straightforward about her, and she is remarkably modest for a girl with so much talent.” “Poor child,” sighed Mrs. Chester; “I am afraid she is painfully sensitive. Some of the women at the Red Cross meeting to-day were telling stories of those horrible atrocities--you know the sort of thing I mean--and Gretel evidently took them very much to heart. It really is unfortunate that she should have such an unmistakably German name.” “Come and listen to the music,” said Molly, as Gretel stepped out on to the cool piazza. “The men on the battle-ship are singing war songs, and we can hear them quite plainly; it’s so still to-night. They’ve just finished ‘The Long, Long Trail.’” It was very still, as Molly had said, and in a few moments the singing began again, the chorus of men’s voices sounding out sweet and clear over the silent harbor. The four girls sat listening to one well-known song after another: “Tipperary,” “Bid Me Good-Bye With a Smile,” and “Keep the Home Fires Burning.” It was too far away for them to distinguish the words, but they all knew the tunes, and by and by they began to sing themselves. But though Gretel was fond of singing, and had a fairly good little voice of her own, she did not join in the choruses, as usual. “Why don’t you sing, Gretel?” Geraldine asked at last. “You know ‘Over There,’ don’t you?”