"They will send some one with me or I could stay all night, I suppose."
"You'd better come home. I'll send Ran over about half-past nine. Go 'long, then."
Nan arrayed herself in her best, which, after all, was not so very fine, and she bewailed the fact that it was not a real party for which she had all the necessary outfit. However, the dark blue serge was becoming, and the corals were an addition. Nan decided that her grandmother would be pleased if she wore them and would overlook the shabbiness of her frock. Few, though, would have seen beyond the expressive face and starry eyes, and it is certain that Mr. Harmer gave no thought to her frock.
He was a gentle looking man, with iron-gray hair, rather an unseeing expression, and an absent manner; but, when he was talking of music, his face lighted up, and his eyes lost their dreamy look. He greeted Nan kindly, holding her hand a moment and patting it. Then he went to the piano, and for an hour Nan sat spellbound.
Into what regions of delight was she plunged. She followed marching armies, she danced with fairies; she wept over lost lovers; she watched fleeting shadows; she trod a land of spring-time and flowers. Mrs. Corner had purposely placed her where she could watch her, and within the musician's line of vision. Once in a while he gave a glance at the rapt countenance and nodded significantly at Miss Helen. Finally when the last note of the "Moonlight Sonata" had ceased to vibrate, Mr. Harmer turned to Nan. "Now," he said, "I want to hear this little girl play."
Nan almost jumped from her seat in surprise. "Me?" she exclaimed, with a startled look from one to another.
"Yes, you, my dear," said her grandmother. "I am very anxious that Mr. Harmer should hear what you can do. You are able to use your arm freely now. I'd like you, too, to show Mr. Harmer the little song you have written."
There was something in Mrs. Corner's manner that admitted no denial of her wishes, though Nan faltered out that she had never taken lessons, that she knew only a very, very little about notes and time.
"We all know that," said Mrs. Corner. "We do not expect wonders, Nancy."
So Nan got up. As she passed her Aunt Helen, she detained her, whispering, "Play that little air you were trying that day I first heard you."