"You mean Galatea?"
She nodded her head.
"I don't know," he said pensively. "I have quite forgotten the ending."
She went on playing, and in the soothing light of the music-room she made a picture that lingered for months in his memory.
"Some day I will tell you," she said suddenly. "Here are mother and dad."
That night, while in the act of disrobing, he heard the calm knock of Mr. Watkins at his door.
"Come in," he said. "I am going at seven to-morrow morning."
"Very good, sir."
Mr. Watkins carefully placed a pitcher of hot water on the stand.
"Are you married, Watkins?"