Page:Cup of Gold-1929.djvu/251

“But if it is wisdom, then wisdom is experience beating about in an orderly brain, kicking over the files. And how could I be otherwise than worldly. And cynicism is the moss which collects on a rolling stone.”

“That is clever, anyway,” she agreed. “I suppose you have known a great many of those young women you spoke of.”

“What young women, Elizabeth?”

“The ones who played badly.”

“Oh! Yes, I have met a few.”

“And did you—did you—like them?”

“I tolerated them because they were friends of my friends.”

“Did any of them fall in love with you? I know I am not delicate, but you are my cousin, and almost my—my brother.”

“Oh, some said they did—but I suspect they wanted my money.”

“Surely not! But I shall play for you again. This will be a sad piece—God Bears the Weary Soul to Rest. I always think it is better to have seriousness with the lighter musics.”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes; so it is.”

Again her fingers worked over the strings.

“It is very beautiful, and sad,” said Henry, when it was finished. “I liked it wonderfully well, but don't you think, Elizabeth—don't you think that sixth string from the end might be a little—tighter?”

“Oh, I wouldn't have it touched for the world!” she cried. “Before we came out from England,