"There are no such things, Maud."
"Hush!" she said. "Listen!"
That concert was talked of for many a long day. Those who knew said that Frank Weston excelled himself, but something else wonderful happened. There was still ten minutes of the allotted time when he had finished his last piece. He put down his violin, walked down the steps and offered his arm to Jeanie Hamilton.
There was another storm of applause. Miss Hamilton, whom so many present knew was considered worthy to play with the genius—and how beautiful she looked! How was it no one had sooner recognised her beauty and her talent, and what a lovely dress! Jeanie was still in a dream. This was happening all long ago, when she and Frank had played together, of course it was for the last time—but she must play her best, she must not disgrace him in public, though it was the hardest thing she had ever done.
"Now," he said softly, looking at her, and then they began. How kindly he moderated his pace to hers, how thrilling were the tender notes. It was a little bit of heaven, and then it was over!
What a storm of applause followed, but Jeanie fled and Frank Weston followed her after simply saying "Thank you" to his audience.
Jim was keeping the door as they passed in, and when Toney arrived Jim had seized the situation.
"I think, Miss Tonia," he said, touching his cap, "I think Miss Hamilton must be his young lady."
"Yes, she is, but in ten minutes tell them to come to supper at the House. Mind, only ten minutes, Jim, for I'm just dying to congratulate them."
CHAPTER XXIV.