The Musicale

Tess gurgled in joy. She went to her father's side and gathered the dear head into her arms.

"If that air all what air worryin' ye, then kiss yer brat," said she. "I air goin' to sing an' mebbe I'll only see Waldstricker to speak to 'im. If he says anythin' 'bout Andy--"

"What'll ye tell 'im, kid?" gasped the dwarf.

"Oh, I'll string 'im like I allers does," returned Tess. "Now you're done squallin' like a baby, look at me!"

"Ain't she swell?" enthused Andy. "Orn, have ye looked 'er over?"

"Sure," mumbled the Squatter, "an' she air finer'n silk."

Tessibel hugged her father again, fluttered a kiss from the tips of her fingers to the little man above, and repeating her usual admonition to them, not to talk aloud, she started for Young's with palpitating heart. Deforrest met her as she ascended the front porch. Smiling he took her hand. His eyes expressed his approval of the winsome face and the trim figure in the new dress.

"Prompt as usual," he greeted. "How beautiful you are tonight, my dear!"

The color swept to Tessibel's face in great waves. She loved everything beautiful, the roses, the violets, the blue of the sky! Even the night things were beautiful, too. Did Professor Young think her beautiful like all these wonders? She smiled, her face shining in its mantling crimson. Deforrest took her arm, leading her into the living room, where Helen stood at the table, drawing on a long white glove.