Margaretwenton，notheedingtheinterruption。“Iknewitfromthefirst，whenhetoldmeaboutthesuicideofhiscousin，theBernsteinboy。Thatkindofbluntpathoscan’tbesummonedatwillinanybody。Theearliernovelistsrosetoit，sometimes，unconsciously。ButlastnightwhenIsangforhimIwasdoublysure。Oh，Ihaven’ttoldyouaboutthatyet！Betterlightyourpipeagain。Yousee，hestumbledinonmeinthedarkwhenIwaspumpingawayatthatoldparlourorgantopleaseMrs。LockhartIt’sherhouseholdfetishandI’veforgottenhowmanypoundsofbuttershemadeandsoldtobuyit。Well，Ericstumbledin，andinsomeinarticulatemannermademeunderstandthathewantedmetosingforhim。Isangjusttheoldthings，ofcourse。It’squeertosingfamiliarthingshereattheworld’send。Itmakesonethinkhowtheheartsofmenhavecarriedthemaroundtheworld，intothewastesofIcelandandthejunglesofAfricaandtheislandsofthePacific。Ithinkifonelivedherelongenoughonewouldquiteforgethowtobetrivial，andwouldreadonlythegreatbooksthatwenevergettimetoreadintheworld，andwouldrememberonlythegreatmusic，andthethingsthatarereallyworthwhilewouldstandoutclearlyagainstthathorizonoverthere。AndofcourseIplayedtheintermezzofromCavalleriaRusticana
forhim；itgoesratherbetteronanorganthanmostthingsdo。Heshuffledhisfeetandtwistedhisbighandsupintoknotsandblurtedoutthathedidn’tknowtherewasanymusiclikethatintheworld。Why，thereweretearsinhisvoice，Wyllis！Yes，likeRossetti，Iheardhistears。Thenitdawneduponmethatitwasprobablythefirstgoodmusicbehadeverheardinallhislife。Thinkofit，tocareformusicashedoesandnevertohearit，nevertoknowthatitexistsonearth！Tolongforitaswelongforotherperfectexperiencesthatnevercome。Ican’ttellyouwhatmusicmeanstothatman。Ineversawanyonesosusceptibletoit。Itgavehimspeech，hebecamealive。WhenIhadfinishedtheintermezzo，hebegantellingmeaboutalittlecrippledbrotherwhodiedandwhomhelovedandusedtocarryeverywhereinhisarms。Hedidnotwaitforencouragement。Hetookupthestoryandtolditslowly，asiftohimself，justsortofroseupandtoldhisownwoetoanswerMascagni’s。Itovercameme。“
“Poordevil，“saidWyllis，lookingatherwithmysteriouseyes，“andsoyou’vegivenhimanewwoe。Nowhe’llgoonwantingGriegandSchuberttherestofhisdaysandnevergettingthem。That’sagirl’sphilanthropyforyou！“
JerryLockhartcameoutofthehousescrewinghischinovertheunusualluxuryofastiffwhitecollar，whichhiswifeinsisteduponasanecessaryarticleoftoiletwhileMissElliotwasatthehouse。Jerrysatdownonthestepandsmiledhisbroad，redsmileatMargaret。
“Well，I’vegotthemusicforyourdance，MissElliot。OlafOlesonwillbringhisaccordionandMolliewillplaytheorgan，whensheisn’tlookin’afterthegrub，andalittlechapfromFrenchtownwillbringhisfiddle——thoughtheFrenchdon’tmixwiththeNorwegiansmuch。“