He said as how he had brought the music," she announced.
"Tell him I'll be down at once," directed the mistress of Hillside.
As the maid disappeared, Billy put aside her work and sprang lightly to her feet.
"Now wasn't that nice of him?
We were talking last night about some duets he had, and he said he'd bring them over.

I didn't know he'd come so soon, though." Billy had almost reached the bottom of the stairway, when a low, familiar strain of music drifted out from the living-room.

Billy caught her breath, and held her foot suspended.

The next moment the familiar strain of music had become a lullaby--one of Billy's own--and sung now by a melting tenor voice that lingered caressingly and understandingly on every tender cadence.
Motionless and almost breathless, Billy waited until the last low "lul-la-by" vibrated into silence; then with shining eyes and outstretched hands she entered the living-room.
"Oh, that was--beautiful," she breathed.
Arkwright was on his feet instantly.

His eyes, too, were alight.
"I could not resist singing it just once--here," he said a little unsteadily, as their hands met.
"But to hear my little song sung like that! I couldn't believe it was mine," choked Billy, still plainly very much moved.