tried to think that she was only playing an accompaniment for Garnet.
The piece was not difficult, it was in D, quite the easiest key for the
guitar, with very few accidentals or high positions. She took courage,
and struck her strings crisply, so that the tone rang out well. Her
instrument was a good one, very true and mellow, and her mother had
taught her the liquid Spanish touch which showed it to its best
advantage. Garnet also was doing her best. Her plectrum vibrated evenly
and rapidly, and the metallic twang, her gravest fault, was not nearly
so evident as usual. The audience, unfamiliar with these particular
instruments, was not hypercritical, and so long as the players kept well
together, and sounded no discords, their skill was judged to be
excellent. The Barcarolle had an attractive swing about it, and a
romantic suggestion of gondolas and lapping water and moonlight
serenades. As the last notes of the air on the mandoline died away,
Winona swept her thumb over the strings of her guitar in a tremendous
final chord. It had quite a magnificent and professional effect. There
was no mistake about the applause; it was simply clamorous.

"Stand up and bow!" whispered Margaret, nudging the unaccustomed
performers. "That's right! Bow again! It's most clearly an encore. Have
you brought anything else with you? Good biz! Don't waste any more time,
then. We're rather late."

The song that Winona had chosen was a bright little Irish ditty, with a
catchy tune and lively accompaniment. Garnet played the air softly on
the mandoline, and the two girls sang in unison, keeping strictly
together, and pronouncing very plainly, so that the point of the amusing
words should not be lost. The audience shrieked with laughter, and would
have demanded a further encore, had not Margaret pointed to the clock,
and shaken her head firmly. There were other items on the program and