"If you really desired it, perhaps I would try; but of course I know very well that you care nothing for my music; and our dear old hymns and chants would only tire and annoy you."
"To whom does 'our' refer?"
"My dear Mr. Hargrove and Mrs. Lindsay and her son. We so often sang quartettes at home in the long, delicious, peaceful summer evenings, before the awful affliction came and separated us."
The lamps were lighted, and night closed in, with silvery constellations overhead, before Mr. Palma and his companion were near their destination. As they crossed a street, he said, abruptly breaking a long silence:
"Take my arm."
Never before had such a courtesy been tendered, and she looked up in unfeigned surprise.
He was so tall, so stately, that the proposition seemed to her preposterous.
"Can't you reach it?"
He took her hand, drew it beneath, and placed the fingers on his arm.
"Of late you have grown so rapidly, your head is almost on a level with my shoulder; and you are quite tall enough now to accept my escort."