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these fierce men. I shall play him my new pieces—The Elves' Concourse, and God Bears the Weary Soul to Rest.”

“No,” broke in Lady Moddyford. “No, I wouldn't do that if I were you. He might not like fine music. There are better ways.”

“But you said those pieces were very pretty; you said it yourself. And haven't I read how music soothes men until they can hardly bear it?”

“Very well, my dear; play for him, then, if you will. Perhaps he— But play for him. Such things may run in the family—the love of music, I mean. Of course, you know, you must admire him and at the same time be a little afraid of him. Make him feel that you are a poor, helpless little creature completely hemmed in with tigers. But you must arrange it in your own way. You have a good start, for you may appeal to him for protection from the beginning.” She sighed, “I don't know what we should do without protection. I don't know when Sir Charles would have proposed to me. The dear was frightened out of his life to begin. One afternoon we sat on a bench and I positively searched the landscape for something to frighten me. We must have been there three hours before a little water-snake ambled along the path and terrified me into his arms. No, I can't think what we should do without protection. Sir Charles has a man in the garden all the time looking for snakes. And do you know, I have always liked snakes. I had three of them for pets when I was a little girl.”