"On that?" eyeing the tin whistle with intense interest.
"Yes; on this."
"Will you play again for me?"
"I don't mind."
Ned placed the whistle to his lips, and played a simple Scotch air, improvising on the theme with rare skill; his organ of love of approbation was very large.
"Beautiful!" said Arthur Temple. "You have been taught in a good school."
In the slight laugh with which Ned Chester met this assertion was conveyed a suddenly-born reproach against society for having overlooked such superlative talent as he possessed.
"I was taught in no school." Adding proudly, "What I know, I picked up myself."
Arthur Temple corrected himself, "In the school of nature."
"May be."