Keineth was so indignant at his disagreeable manner that she forgot her fright.
"I know the Lees haven't money enough, because they have so many children and buy lots of things for them and give them a good time! But I'm going to buy Pilot for them! I know Pilot couldn't be happy here, anyway, it's so--so big and horrid and you're so--cross--after having a happy home with the Lees!"
Pilot, as though to tell her that was very true, snuggled his nose under her arm and wagged his tail.
"I've got twenty-five dollars," finished Keineth triumphantly, "and I can spend all of it because I earned it myself--writing music!"
He turned and looked hard at her. Her fury seemed to have amused him.
"Music--you write music! A child like you!"
Keineth stepped closer to him. "Yes. Do you like music?"
The old man answered very slowly. "It was all I cared for once upon a time! Let me see your eyes!" He reached out a wrinkled hand and drew her towards him. "They are blue--like hers were! Child, years and years ago I loved a young girl very much--and she taught me to love music! But she went out of my life and left me with nothing but loneliness!"
Keineth thought of the great empty house and felt very sorry for him.
"What was her name?" she asked softly.