“It is due to my adopted children that I am not a cross, crotchety, complaining old woman,” said Mrs. Gray, allowing Grace to seat her in the big leather-covered arm chair.

“Now, what does your Majesty crave of her loyal subjects?” inquired Grace, bowing low before the little, old lady.

“Very well, if I am queen, then I must be obeyed.  Draw up your chairs and sit in a circle.  I want to tell you a little story.  That is partly my reason for inviting you here this afternoon, although you know you are welcome whenever you choose to come.”

“Is it a fairy story, dear Mrs. Gray, and does it begin with ’Once upon a time’?” queried Jessica.

“It is a story of real life, my child, but I’ll begin it like a fairy tale if you wish it.”

“Oh, please begin at once,” said Grace, who, at eighteen, was as fond of a story as she had been at six.

“Well, ‘once upon a time,’ there were two sisters.  They were really only half sisters, and the one was almost twenty years older than the other.  The mother of the elder sister had died when she was about fifteen years of age, and two years later the father had married a beautiful young Irish girl of very good family, who loved him dearly in spite of the difference in their ages.

“After they had been married a little over two years, a little girl came to them, and the older sister loved the tiny baby as dearly as she loved her beautiful, young step-mother.”

“Why, that sounds very much like Grimm’s fairy tales!” exclaimed Nora.  “Only the book people are all kings and queens, but this is even better because the heroine is actually Irish.”

There was a general laugh over Nora’s remark in which Mrs. Gray joined.

“It’s a case of Ireland forever, isn’t it Nora?” said Grace teasingly.

“‘Fine and dandy are the Irish,’” said Nora with a grin, quoting from a popular song she had heard in a recent musical comedy.  “But stop teasing me, and let Mrs. Gray go on with her story.”

“When the baby sister, whose name was Edith, was about three years old, the beautiful young mother died and left the husband inconsolable.  A year later he was killed in a railroad accident, and the elder sister, named Margaret, was left with only little Edith to comfort her.  The father had been a rich man, so they had no anxiety about money, and lived on year after year in their beautiful old home, with everything heart could wish.

“As Edith grew older, she developed a decided talent for music, and when she was fifteen Margaret decided to take her abroad and allow her to enter one of the great conservatories of Europe.  They went to Leipsic, and Edith, who had high hopes of one day becoming a concert pianiste, continued her studies under the best instructors that money could procure.  Things ran along smoothly until Edith met a young Italian named Guido Savelli, who was studying the violin at the same conservatory.  His brilliant playing had already created a sensation wherever he appeared, and he gave promise of being a virtuoso.