It was hard to part with romance, but she had never thirsted so keenly to go on with her University work in her life as she did that day. ” “I haven’t told any one the amount,” he went on. “So Lucy, I hear that you are quite the violin player. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. I have just come from him.
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