"And I haven't always lived in these mountains, you know.

As for Myra Willard--well--she taught Sibyl--though she doesn't pretend to equal her now." Conrad Lagrange was interested, now, in earnest He turned to the artist, eagerly--but with caution--"Do you suppose it could be our neighbors in the orange grove, Aaron ?" Brian Oakley watched them with quiet amusement.
"I know it is," returned the artist.
"You know it is!" ejaculated the other.
"Sure--I heard the violin this afternoon.

While I was fishing," he added hastily, when the Ranger laughed.
The novelist commented savagely, "Seems to me you're mighty careful about keeping your news to yourself!" This brought another burst of merriment from the mountaineer.
When the two men had explained to the Ranger about the music in the orange grove, Conrad Lagrange related how they had first heard that cry in the night; and how, when they had gone to the neighboring house, they had seen the woman of the disfigured face standing in the doorway.
"It was Miss Willard who cried out," said Brian Oakley, quietly.

"She dreams, sometimes, of the accident--or whatever it was--that left her with those scars--at least, that's what I think it is.

Certainly it's no ordinary dream that would make a woman cry like that.