Part 24 (1/2)

”In tune?”

”With the rest of the Orchestra.”

”Oh!” And Mr. Jack, who had already heard about the ”Orchestra of Life,” smiled a bit sadly. ”That's just it, my boy. And if we're handed another instrument to play on than the one we WANT to play on, we're apt to--to let fly a discord. Anyhow, I am. But”--he went on more lightly--”now, in your case, David, little as I know about the violin, I know enough to understand that you ought to be where you can take up your study of it again; where you can hear good music, and where you can be among those who know enough to appreciate what you do.”

David's eyes sparkled.

”And where there wouldn't be any pulling weeds or hoeing dirt?”

”Well, I hadn't thought of including either of those pastimes.”

”My, but I would like that, Mr. Jack!--but THAT wouldn't be WORK, so that couldn't be what father meant.” David's face fell.

”Hm-m; well, I wouldn't worry about the 'work' part,” laughed Mr. Jack, ”particularly as you aren't going to do it just now. There's the money, you know,--and we haven't got that.”

”And it takes money?”

”Well--yes. You can't get those things here in Hinsdale, you know; and it takes money, to get away, and to live away after you get there.”

A sudden light transfigured David's face.

”Mr. Jack, would gold do it?--lots of little round gold-pieces?”

”I think it would, David, if there were enough of them.”

”Many as a hundred?”

”Sure--if they were big enough. Anyway, David, they'd start you, and I'm thinking you wouldn't need but a start before you'd be coining gold-pieces of your own out of that violin of yours. But why? Anybody you know got as 'many as a hundred' gold-pieces he wants to get rid of?”

For a moment David, his delighted thoughts flying to the gold-pieces in the chimney cupboard of his room, was tempted to tell his secret. Then he remembered the woman with the bread and the pail of milk, and decided not to. He would wait. When he knew Mr. Jack better--perhaps then he would tell; but not now. NOW Mr. Jack might think he was a thief, and that he could not bear. So he took up his violin and began to play; and in the charm of the music Mr. Jack seemed to forget the gold-pieces--which was exactly what David had intended should happen.

Not until David had said good-bye some time later, did he remember the purpose--the special purpose--for which he had come. He turned back with a radiant face.

”Oh, and Mr. Jack, I 'most forgot,” he cried. ”I was going to tell you.

I saw you yesterday--I did, and I almost waved to you.”

”Did you? Where were you?”

”Over there in the window--the tower window” he crowed jubilantly.

”Oh, you went again, then, I suppose, to see Miss Holbrook.”

The man's voice sounded so oddly cold and distant that David noticed it at once. He was reminded suddenly of the gate and the footbridge which Jill was forbidden to cross; but he dared not speak of it then--not when Mr. Jack looked like that. He did say, however:--

”Oh, but, Mr. Jack, it's such a beautiful place! You don't know what a beautiful place it is.”

”Is it? Then, you like it so much?”

”Oh, so much! But--didn't you ever--see it?”