The phone did not ring. " "No," thundered Wild. Mr. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. I've my own reasons for disliking this job. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. I shall like to think of it—whenever I feel dull. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. "Call me Hoddy. "I'll be his evil genius!" vociferated Jonathan, who seemed to enjoy her torture.
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