The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-06-17
CHAPTER K
A Lesson In Ignorance.

| Desiree was at the piano. Caleb Conover. whose Knowledge of music embraced one Sousa march and Sum mer Noon" (with a somewhat hazy | idea as to which was which) lounged sprawling on a cushion by her feet; listening in ignorant admiration to the snatches of melody. That anyone could coax a tune out of SO complex an in- strument was to him a mystery to be
 be greeted with silent respect
 He had come to her. in the long Spring twilight. to show with naive pride an invitation he had just re- ceived- An invitation to the musicale dinner at the Standishes', three nights hence. He volunteered no information as to how it had been obtained: but evaded the girls wondering queries with the guilty embarrassment that was always his when she chanced to corner him in fault. From Conover' s manner Desiree gathered that the invi- tatfon was in way an effort on Stan dish's part to repay. the courtesy of the various large loans she knew Caleb had made to the banker. Nor would she spoil the Fighters very evident de- light by closer cross-questioning. Caleb had said. days ago. that he was going to be invited to the dinner. And. de- spite her invariable scoffs at his boasts she had long since learned that such vaunts had an odd way of coming true.
 The June dusk lay velvet-like over the little music room. From the yard
 
 of syringas. Far off sounded the yeils of Billy Shevlin and some of his fel- low street-boys: their racket mellow ed by distance.
 Talk had languished. At last Desiree had crossed to the piano. She sat. playing scraps of music. as was her wont: pausing now and then to speak; then letting her fingers run into a new air series of soft improvised chords. She had scant technique and played almost wholly by ear: using the piano only as the amateur music worshipper's medium for recalling and reproducing some cherished fragments of song.
 But to Caleb. loIling at her side. the performance was sublime. That any one could talk while playing the piano was to him nothing short of marvellous He was firmly convinced it was a gift vouchsafed to Desiree alone. Mus ic itself was wholly unintelligible to him. Except from Desiree's lips or fingers. he found it actively distaste- full. But all she did was perfect. And if her playing fell upon his ear as a meaningless tumble of sounds. he at least found the sounds sweet.
 Whats that thing you just did with one hand and then rumbled down on the low notes with the other?' he ask ed. after a spell of watching the busy white fingers shining through the dusk. the Vanderdecken motive from The Flying Dutchman. And I used to be able to play the whole Spinning Song; but I've forgotten most of it''
 .'Hmi" murmu-ed Caleb. who found her words as unmeaning as her music 'I thought I remembered that one. Spinning Song hey?"
 Yes" she said absently. Tt starts cut with lots of bizzy. purry little notes too fast for me to play. I never could learn the piano.
 You bet you couldr' cried Caleb. at once afire with contradiction. five -,Ir saa H. v@sr, 11rxr CTS an never one of 'em could hold a candle to you Why. there was Blink Snesham-the feller they called Rag time King.-down 10 Kerrigan's. You've got him beat a block.
 .You dear old loyal -fdiotr laughed Desiree. lifting one hand from the keys to rumple his stiff red hair with a ges- ture as affectioaate as it was discom-