"Well, suppose we adjourn to the house now," said Walter. "Refreshments are served in the dining-room." "And mamma has sent me to hurry you in," said Violet, appearing on the scene, with a merry party of young people in her wake. They went into the house, and Jaquelina found herself placed between Walter Earle and Ronald Valchester at table. Violet was on the other side of Valchester. They formed a merry party. The long table sparkled with silver and cut-glass and flowers, and the dishes were loaded with rare and dainty edibles and delicious fruits. But Jaquelina was too happy and excited to eat. She drank in pleasure from the sights and sounds about her--the bright, happy faces, the joyous voices. The hour that was spent at the table passed like a dream of pleasure, but afterward she remembered that she had only trifled with her knife and fork; she had been too excited to eat. When they left the table the young people all went into the parlor. Violet had a new piano--a fine instrument that she laughingly said it was a perfect delight to touch. Several of the young ladies sang and played. Jaquelina sat quietly at the window and listened. Music was a passion with her. It seemed to stir a thousand slumbering harmonies into life within her heart. "Do you play?" said Valchester a voice beside her, presently. "No, I have never been taught," she answered, and he caught the faint tone of regret in the low voice. "But you love music?" he said. "Dearly," she answered, with unconscious pathos. "You have not had a fashionable boarding-school education, Miss Meredith, I suppose," he said, and was sorry for the words a moment after as he saw the sensitive, ever-ready color tinge her cheek. "Why do you say so?" she asked, toying nervously with the heavy fringe of the curtain. "Do I betray my ignorance so plainly?" "Excuse me; not in the least," he replied. "I guessed so because you do not play." "I am an orphan, Mr. Valchester," she said, raising her dark eyes to his face a moment. She seemed to think that all was said in that. "A song, Mr. Valchester," said Violet Earle, looking round from the piano toward the window. "It is your turn now." "Valchester! Valchester!" cried a score of voices. Jaquelina thought he looked annoyed. "I am not in voice----" he began. "No excuses," laughed Walter Earle, who was turning over some sheets of music. "Send him away from the window, Miss Meredith." Valchester looked at her. "Shall you do so?" he asked. "I should like to hear you sing," she replied, simply. "Very well, I will sing for you," he answered, as he crossed the room and sat down on the stool which Violet vacated as he came up. The long, white hands swept over the pearl keys lightly. A rush of divine melody filled the room. Jaquelina shivered, it was so weirdly, thrillingly sweet. He sang song after song in a full, rich tenor voice, seeming to lose himself in the strains.