She blushed a little, nevertheless, and glanced at me; then her fingers strayed over the keys, and drew out music that was very soft and yet very gay.

Suddenly she ceased, and leaned forward on the desk of the piano, looking at him.
"Do you know, Nino, it was once my dream to be a great musician.

If I had not been so rich I should have taken the profession in earnest.
But now, you see, it is different, is it not ?" "Yes, it is all different now," he answered, not knowing exactly what she meant, but radiantly happy, all the same.
"I mean," she said, hesitating--"I mean that now that we are to be always together, what you do I do, and what I do you do.

Do you understand ?" "Yes, perfectly," said Nino, rather puzzled, but quite satisfied.
"Ah no, dear," said she, forgetting my presence, and letting her hand steal into his as he stood, "you do not understand--quite.

I mean that so long as one of us can be a great musician it is enough, and I am just as great as though I did it all myself." Thereupon Nino forgot himself altogether, and kissed her golden hair.
But then he saw me looking, for it was so pretty a sight that I could not help it, and he remembered.
"Oh!" he said in a tone of embarrassment that I had never heard before.