"Yes, it is. And it is so quiet and restful. I do hope there will be room for me here," answered Jim.

Just then they heard foot-steps on the stairs and in a second Ruth's cheery voice greeted them with a "h.e.l.lo!" from the hall.

"Well, this is a surprise. I didn't expect to see you till to-night, Dorothy. Have I you to thank for bringing her to me?" she asked, smiling at Jim.

"Yes, I guess so," replied Dorothy. "We came on business."

"On business!" echoed Ruth.

"Yes, on business," answered Jim. "It's just this: You see I have taken a position in New York and I have to board here. We didn't know of any place and Aunt Betty thought of something you had said the night before about boarding-house meals."

"Yes," continued Dorothy, "and I called Mr. Ludlow up and he recommended this place and we came right down here, and we have just fallen in love with the place at first sight. Haven't we, Jim?"

"Wait. Let me see. You want to see Mrs. Quarren. She is out just now, but she is such a dear. I know! You must both stay to lunch. It is just eleven forty-five and we lunch here at twelve. You see so many of the boarders here do not come home at noon-time, they work too far to come back, so that there will be plenty of room. And then you can see how the table suits you. Mrs. Quarren is always in for meals. You see she is just a great dear mother to us all. I won't know what to do without her."

"I will lend you Aunt Betty when you are with us," volunteered Dorothy. "But we must let her know we are going to stay here for lunch."

"I'll telephone her if you will show me where the 'phone is," spoke up Jim.

"Right this way, please," said Ruth, leading Jim into the hall where he saw the little table and 'phone. "Come back to the parlor when you are through," and Ruth went back to Dorothy.

"You are to play to-night, are you not?" she inquired.

"Yes, and are you to sing?" questioned Dorothy.

"Right after you play. We are each to do just one thing to-night. I am going to sing 'Still vie de Nochte,' or in English, 'Still as the Night,' you see it's just a little German song. What are you to play?"

asked Ruth.

"I thought I was to play two selections--Mr. Ludlow said so----"

started Dorothy.

"Yes, dear, you were," interrupted Ruth, "but he changed his mind after I had coaxed him and he has consented to let me sing so we each can have one number then."

"Well, then I will play that old medley, 'Southern Airs.' I like that best of all. It makes me think of home," answered Dorothy.

"And I always can just fairly see old Bellevieu when you play that piece," added Jim from the doorway. "Aunt Betty said it was satisfactory, and that she and Alfy would go out this afternoon and for you to come home soon and practice."

Just then the luncheon bell sounded and the three went quickly down stairs. They were seated at a small table near the window. Ruth always sat there and as the other guests at that table were never present for luncheon, Dorothy and Jim could sit there too. So the three had the little table all to themselves.

Just as soon as she could, Mrs. Quarren came over to the table, for she had returned from her duties outside. Ruth presented Dorothy and Jim to her, and as she sat pleasantly chatting, Jim told her of his want. She said she would see him after dinner in the library.

"Well, Dorothy, you come to my room with me while Jim sees Mrs.

Quarren in the library," said Ruth, rising and carefully pushing her chair back under the table.

"You are very kind. I would like to see your room. You lead and I will follow," answered Dorothy.

"Oh, the room is not much. You come too, Jim, and I will show you where the library is," said Ruth, leading the way upstairs. "Right in there, Jim."

Jim entered the library and the girls ascended to the floors above.

"I am going out this afternoon with a friend," said Ruth. "I promised I would go shopping with her," and she opened the door of her room.

The room was a large, sunny one with simple furnishings.

"I'll sit here," announced Dorothy, "till you are ready to go."

"I will just hustle with my things and be ready in a moment," replied Ruth, suiting her actions to her words.

In a very few minutes the girls were ready and slowly descended the stairs again to wait for Jim in the parlor.

"Well, here I am. Room engaged and all," said a cheery voice from the hall which they knew as Jim's.

"Where is it?" questioned Ruth.

"Yes, where?" echoed Dorothy.

"Where do you suppose?" mocked Jim. "Well, I will tell you. Ruth it is your room."

"My room!" exclaimed the girl.

"Yes, your room," laughed Jim. "I am to have it next Wednesday. Mrs.

Quarren said you were to leave it Tuesday."

"Tuesday!" interrupted Dorothy, in a very much surprised tone of voice.

"Yes, dear, Tuesday. Didn't Mr. Ludlow tell you?" added Ruth. "Tuesday we go to Washington on the noon train."

"Ah, is it so soon? I didn't know it. It makes me feel so sad. I hate to leave New York now, just as I am becoming used to it," wailed Dorothy. "Oh, I just must go back to the hotel. I have to practice and it is getting late."

"Come on, Dorothy," said Jim, rising and walking to the door.

"Good-bye till to-night," said Dorothy.

"Good-bye, dear, till to-night," answered Ruth.

With that Dorothy and Jim made their departure for home. The way back was rather quiet, for the news that the girls were to start so soon had made Jim sad. And Dorothy couldn't help but feel the same way.

When at last they had silently reached the hotel and had gone up to the rooms, Dorothy spoke.

"Jim, do you want to stay here and be my audience while I practice and tell me what you think of my playing?"

"Yes, indeed I do," answered Jim, gladly grasping the opportunity to be near the girl, and when he had seated himself in a great chair added, "I'll be more than audience, I'll be newspaper reporter and a very exacting and critical one at that. And then, when you finish I will tell you what I would put in the paper about you and your playing."

"That's a bargain," answered Dorothy, taking her violin in hand. "I will start right now."

So saying she commenced playing slowly at first, anon faster and faster, then again more slowly that beautiful composition, "A Medley of Southern Airs," putting all her love and yearning for her own southern home into the effort. Jim from his chair by the window could picture each phase of the piece, and when she had finished with the beautiful sad strains of "Home, Sweet Home," he could hardly control himself, and man that he was, he could not keep the tears from his eyes.

For a brief moment neither spoke. Dorothy laid down her violin and came over to him. Jim arose and took both her hands, saying softly, "Dorothy girl, it was wonderful, but it makes me so sad. I just can't bear to think of parting from you."