CHAPTER XLII.
THE LEPER.
The faint, sweet, luminous jar of bow and string, as betwixt them they tore the silky air into a dying sound, came hovering--neither could have said whether it was in the soul only, or there and in the outer world too.
"What _is_ that ?" said Tom.
"Mary!" Letty called into the other room, "there is our friend with the violin again! Don't you think Tom would like to hear him ?" "Yes, I do," answered Mary.
"Then would you mind asking him to come and play a little to us?
It would do Tom good, I do think." Mary went up the one stair--all that now divided them, and found the musician with his sister--his half-sister she was.
"I thought we should have you in upon us!" said Ann.

"Joe thinks he can play so as nobody can hear him; and I was fool enough to let him try.

I am sorry." "I am glad," rejoined Mary, "and am come to ask him down stairs; for Mrs.Helmer and I think it will do her husband good to hear him.

He is very fond of music." "Much help music will be to him, poor young man!" said Ann, scornfully.
"Wouldn't you give a sick man a flower, even if it only made him a little happier for a moment with its scent and its loveliness ?" asked Mary.
"No, I wouldn't.

It would only be to help the deceitful heart to be more desperately wicked." I will not continue the conversation, although they did a little longer.