That music was like a strange story that drops its plummet deep into life's mysteries.
"A new song!" said my uncle, turning to me with surprise on his face.
"He got the subject from you.

We shall see." Presently Rayel entered the room, bringing something in his hand--a picture--which he held up to the lamplight.

A girl's face! and wonderfully like that of Hester Chaffin.

I sat amazed, staring at it.
But the likeness was not exact, the face was idealized--as I had seen it in my dream the night before.

I raised my eyes to Rayel's face.