“I suppose I might have played—something,” he muttered at last; “but—'The Maiden's Prayer'!—good heavens!”
Billy was a little shy with Cyril when he came down to dinner that night. For the next few days, indeed, she held herself very obviously aloof from him. Cyril caught himself wondering once if she were afraid of his “nerves.” He did not try to find out, however; he was too emphatically content that of her own accord she seemed to be leaving him in peace.
It must have been a week after Billy's visit to the top of the house that Cyril stopped his playing very abruptly one day, and opened his door to go down-stairs. At the first step he started back in amazement.
“Why, Billy!” he ejaculated.
The girl was sitting very near the top of the stairway. At his appearance she got to her feet shamefacedly.
“Why, Billy, what in the world are you doing there?”
“Listening.”
“Listening!”
“Yes. Do you mind?”
The man did not answer. He was too surprised to find words at once, and he was trying to recollect what he had been playing.