A slight breeze stirred the flower-scented air and set the pines whispering for a moment; then all was silent. With eyes half closed, Darrell raised the violin and, drawing the bow softly across the strings, began one of his own improvisos, the exquisite, piercing sweetness of the first notes swelling with an indescribable pathos until Kate could scarcely restrain a cry of pain. Higher and higher they soared, until above the clouds they poised lightly for an instant, then descended in a flood of liquid harmonies which alternately rose and fell, sometimes tremulous with hope, sometimes moaning in low undertones of grief, never despairing, but always with the same heart-rending pathos, always voicing the same unutterable longing.
Unmindful of his surroundings, his whole soul absorbed in the music, Darrell played on, till, as the strains sank to a minor undertone, he heard a stifled sob, followed by a low whine from Duke. He glanced towards Kate, and the music ceased instantly. Unobserved by him she had left the hammock and was seated opposite himself, listening as though entranced, her lips quivering, her eyes shining with unshed tears, while Duke, alarmed by what he considered signs of evident distress, looked anxiously from her to Darrell as though entreating his help.
"Why, my dear child, what is the matter?" Darrell exclaimed, moving quickly to her side.
"Oh," she cried, piteously, "how could you stop so
suddenly! It was like snapping a beautiful golden thread!" And burying her face in her hands, her whole frame shook with sobs.
Darrell, somewhat alarmed himself, laid his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her. In a moment she raised her head, the tear-drops still glistening on her cheeks and her long golden lashes.
"It was childish in me to give way like that," she said, with a smile that reminded Darrell of the sun shining through a summer shower; "but oh, that music! It was the saddest and the sweetest I ever heard! It was breaking my heart, and yet I could have listened to it forever!"
"It was my fault," said Darrell, regretfully; "I should not have played so long, but I always forget myself when playing that way."
Kate's face grew suddenly grave and serious. "Mr. Darrell," she said, hesitatingly, "I have thought very often about the sad side of your life—since your illness, you know; but I never realized till now the terrible loneliness of it all."
She paused as though uncertain how to proceed. Darrell's face had in turn become grave.