The Key Note: A Novel

by Clara Louise Burnham

Mrs. Lowell smiled. "Physically, perhaps, but colloquially he is certainly an up-to-the-minute American."

"He is an eminent singer and has shown himself a hero in arriving at that point."

"A hero, really?"

"Yes, but most unconsciously so."

"He is certainly as unaffected and straightforward as a child," said Mrs. Lowell. "I hope he will sing for us."

"I have heard him once," said Diana. "It was merely a nonsense song, because he had only an heirloom of a piano—a harp he called it, and I imagine harpsichords did sound similar to that. Now, we are on a high point of the island, Mrs. Lowell."

They paused again and, looking off, saw a vast ocean in all directions, foam breaking on its ledges. Mrs. Lowell drew a long breath of delight.

"'Every prospect pleases,'" she said.

"Does it not seem a pity," returned Diana, "that it is our duty to hunt for a vile, imitation man?"

Mrs. Lowell laughed. "He is scarcely even an imitation," she replied. "But come," she sighed, "let us go after him. I wonder what gave this farm its reputation." They walked on.