in the woods in summer. You'd let me play here over Sunday. Oh, Aunt Margaret, what does one cost? Would it be wicked for me to take of my money and buy a very cheap one? I could play on the least expensive one made."
"Oh, no you couldn't! A cheap machine makes cheap music. You got to have a fine fiddle to make it sing. But there's no sense in your buying one. There isn't a decent reason on earth why you shouldn't have your fa"
"My father's!" cried Elnora. She caught Margaret Sinton by the arm. "My father had a violin! He played it. That's why I can! Where is it? Is it in our house? Is it in mother's room?"
"Elnora!" panted Margaret. "Your mother will kill me! She always hated it."
"Mother dearly loves music," said Elnora.
"Not when it took the man she loved away from her to make it!"
"Where is my father's violin?"
"Elnora!"
"I've never seen a picture of my father. I've never heard his name mentioned. I've never had a scrap that belonged to him. Was he my father, or am I a charity child like Billy, and so she hates me?"
"She's got good pictures of him. Seems she just can't bear to hear him talked about. Of course, he was your father. They lived right there when you were born. She don't dislike you, she just tries to make herself think
