The bells had ceased. He heard the roll of a deep throated organ skillfully played.
And now, his attention was suddenly attracted to the open window of the church where framed in English ivy a lovely girl sat at the organ. She was dressed in white with hair of gold, and a golden window somewhere back of her across the church, made a background of beaten gold against which her delicate profile was set like some young saint. Her white fingers moving among the keys, and gradually he came to realize that it was she who had been playing the bells.
He stared and stared, filled with admiration, thrilled with this new experience in his blase existence. Who would have expected to find a beauty like that in a little out of the way place like this? His theory of a great estate and a rich man's daughter with a fad for music instantly came to the front. What a lucky happening that he should have broken down close to this church. He would find out who the girl was and work it to get invited up to her house. Perhaps he was a fortunate loser of his bet after all.
As he watched the girl playing gradually the music entered his consciousness. He was fond of music, and had heard the best of the world of course. This was meltingly lovely. The girl had fine appreciation and much expression, even when the medium of her melody was clumsy things like bells. She had seemed to make them glad as they pealed out their melodies. He had not known bells could sound like happy children, or like birds.
His meditations were interrupted by a tap on the door, followed by the entrance of his host bearing a tray:
“Good-morning,” he said pleasantly, “I see you're up. How is the sprain? Better? Would you like me to dress it again?”
He came over to the desk and set down the tray on which was beautifully brown buttered toast, eggs and coffee:
“I've brought you just a bite. It's so late you won't want much, for we have dinner immediately after church. I suppose you wouldn't feel like going over to the service?”
“Service?” the young man drawled almost insolently.
“Yes, service is at eleven. Would you care to go over? I could assist you.”