notwithstanding his exertions during the day and evening, philip rose the next day at his usual hour, and was in time for the family breakfast, at seven o'clock.
“don't you feel tired, mr. gray?” asked mrs. webb.
“no, thank you. i slept well, and feel quite refreshed.”
“he's used to it, lucy,” remarked her husband.
“they look upon me as a professional player,” thought philip.
“i think you and i ought to be more tired, for we were dancing all the evening,” continued the farmer.
when they rose from the table, philip looked for his hat.
“you're not going to leave us so soon, mr. gray?” said mrs. webb hospitably. “we shall be glad to have you stay with us a day or two, if you can content yourself.”
“that's right, lucy. i'm glad you thought to ask him,” said her husband.
philip was tempted to accept this kind invitation. he would have free board, and be at no expense, instead of spending the small sum he had earned the evening previous; but he reflected that he would be no nearer solving the problem of how he was to maintain himself, and while this was in uncertainty, he was naturally anxious.
“i am very much obliged to you both,” he said. “if i come this way again, i shall be glad to call upon you, but now i think i must be pushing on.”
“you'll always be welcome, mr. gray,” said mrs. webb.
philip thanked her, and soon after set out on his way.
he was more cheerful and hopeful than the day before, for then he was well nigh penniless, and now he had three dollars in his pocket.
three dollars was not a very large sum, to be sure, but to one who had been so near destitution as philip it seemed very important.
besides, he had discovered in his violin a source of income, whereas, hitherto, he had looked upon it merely as a source of amusement. this made him feel more independent and self-reliant.
he had walked perhaps two miles, when he heard the rattle of wheels behind him. he did not turn his head, for there was nothing strange in this sound upon a frequented road. he did turn his head, however, when he heard a strong voice calling “hello!”
turning, he saw that a young man who was driving had slackened the speed of his horse, and was looking toward him.
philip halted, and regarded the driver inquiringly.
“you're the young chap that played for a dance last night, ain't you!” said the newcomer.
“yes, sir.”
“then you're the one i want to see—jump in, and we'll talk as we are going along.”
philip had no objection to a ride, and he accepted the invitation with alacrity. the driver, he noticed, was a young man, of pleasant manners, though dressed in a coarse suit.
“i drove over to jonas webb's to see you, and they told me you had just gone,” he continued. “i thought maybe you'd get up late, but you was up on time. are you engaged for this evening?”
philip began to prick up his ears and become interested. was it possible that his good luck was to continue, and that he was to have an opportunity of earning some more money through his faithful friend, the violin? he didn't think it well to exhibit the satisfaction he felt, and answered, in a matter-of-fact tone;
“no, i have no engagement for this evening.”
“i'm glad of it,” responded the young man, evidently well pleased. “you see, we had arranged to have a dance over to our place, but mr. beck, being sick, we thought we'd have to give it up. one of my neighbors was over last evening and heard you play, and he thought maybe we could secure you.”
“i shall be glad to play for you,” said philip politely.
“what are your terms?” asked his companion.
“three dollars and board and lodging for the time i need to stay.”
“that's satisfactory. i'll engage you.”
“is it near here?” asked philip.
“it's in conway—only four miles from here. i'll take you right over now, and you shall stay at my house.”
“thank you, i shall find that very agreeable,” said philip.
“does mr. beck live near you?” asked our hero, a little later.
“bless you! he lives in our place.”
“i suppose his services are in demand?”
“yes, he is sent for to all the towns around. fact is, there isn't anybody but he that can play to suit; but i expect, from what i've heard, that you can come up to him.”
“i couldn't expect to do that,” said philip modestly. “i am very young yet.”
“folks do say you beat paul. it seems wonderful, too, considering how young you are. what might be your age, now?”
“just sixteen.”
“sho! you don't say so? why, paul beck's over fifty.”
“mr. beck won't think i'm interfering with him, will he?” asked philip.
“of course, he can't. we'd a had him if he was well. we can't be expected to put off the party because he's sick. that wouldn't be reasonable, now, would it?”
“i should think not.”
just then philip became sensible that a light wagon was approaching, driven by a young lady.
he did not, however, suppose it was any one he knew till the carriage stopped, and he heard a voice saying:
“good morning, mr. gray!”
then he discovered that it was the same young lady who had asked for an introduction to him the evening previous.
“good morning, miss snodgrass!” he said politely, remembering, fortunately, the young lady's name.
meanwhile, maria and philip's drivers had also exchanged salutations, for they were acquainted.
“and where are you carrying mr. gray, mr. blake?” she asked.
“i'm carrying him over to our place. he's going to play for us this evening.”
“is there going to be a dance in conway this evening?” inquired miss snodgrass, with sudden interest.
“yes. won't you come over?”
“i will, if i can get jedidiah to bring me,” answered maria.
“i guess there's no doubt about that,” answered andrew blake, who knew very well jedidiah's devotion to the young lady.
“oh, i don't know!” answered maria coquettishly. “perhaps he won't care for my company.”
“if he doesn't, you won't have any trouble in finding another beau.”
after a little more conversation, the young lady drove away; but not without expressing to philip her delight at having another chance to hear his beautiful playing.
“she'll be there,” said andrew blake, as they drove away. “she makes jedidiah burbank do just as she orders him.”
“are they engaged?” asked our hero.
“yes, i expect so; but there may be some chance of your cutting him out, if you try. the young lady seems to admire you.”
philip smiled.
“i am only a boy of sixteen,” he said. “i am too young to think of such things. i won't interfere with mr. burbank.”
“jedidiah's apt to be jealous,” said blake, “and maria likes to torment him. however, she'll end by marrying him, i guess.”
in half an hour or thereabouts, andrew blake drew up at the gate of a small but neat house on the main street in conway. he was a carpenter, as philip afterward found, and had built the house himself. he was probably of about the same age as jonas webb, and like him was married to a young wife.
during the afternoon, philip, being left pretty much to his own devices, took a walk in and about the village, ascending a hill at one side, which afforded him a fine view of that and neighboring villages.
he was pleasantly received and hospitably entertained at the house of mr. blake, and about quarter of eight started out for the hall, at which he was to play, in company with his host and hostess.
as they approached the hall, a young man approached them with a perplexed face.
“what do you think, andrew?” he said. “paul beck's in the hall, as mad as a hatter, and he vows he'll play himself. he says he was engaged, and no one shall take his place.”
andrew blake looked disturbed, and philip shared in his feeling. was he to lose his engagement, after all?
