Everywhere mirrored walls caught the light and reflected the potted ferns and palms so that David looked down endless vistas of loveliness that seemed for all the world like the long sunflecked aisles beneath the tall pines of his mountain home.
The music that David had heard at first had long since stopped; but David had not noticed that.

He stood now in the center of the room, awed, and trembling, but enraptured.

Then from somewhere came a voice--a voice so cold that it sounded as if it had swept across a field of ice.
"Well, boy, when you have quite finished your inspection, perhaps you will tell me to what I am indebted for THIS visit," it said.
David turned abruptly.
"O Lady of the Roses, why didn't you tell me it was like this--in here ?" he breathed.
"Well, really," murmured the lady in the doorway, stiffly, "it had not occurred to me that that was hardly--necessary." "But it was!--don't you see?
This is new, all new.

I never saw anything like it before; and I do so love new things.

It gives me something new to play; don't you understand ?" "New--to play ?" "Yes--on my violin," explained David, a little breathlessly, softly testing his violin.