In the music-room was a piano, and she played upon it the beautiful French "little songs" that John loved.

There were books and magazines in plenty, and now he read to her and then she read to him.

Sometimes they sat in silence and through the thick glass of the windows watched the snow driving by.
The hours were too few for John.

He served her as the crusader served his chosen lady.

The spirit of the old knights of chivalry that had descended upon him still held him in a spell that he did not wish to break.