If the other Terence's fiddle had ever seemed to be longing
for anything, it had seemed to be hopeless, and the fiddle always
seemed to be bitterly laughing at those who were listening to it and
thinking that it was so fine. She had never thought of anything like
this before, but it seemed clear to her now, listening to the same
music played so differently. For now, below all the longing and
sounding through it, there were strength and hope and life and faith
in something good.
I do not say that Kathleen thought all this out while she was
listening. She only felt the most of it. But she felt it so much that
she scarcely knew what she was doing, and she moved by little and
little toward Terence, till she was nearer to him than anybody else,
and looked at him as if he were something more wonderful than she had
ever seen before, till she found that she could not look at him,
because her eyes were wet. And then the music stopped.
Then said the King: "I said that was something that we could
understand, Terence, but I dunno if it is.
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