"Why, what is this huge thing in the cart turning in at the gate? It isn't the furniture, I'm sure! It must be a mistake. I had better go down and tell them before they begin to unpack it—whatever it is."
But Hugh is before her; and Honor and Molly arrive on the front steps just in time to hear him say "All right!" to the men in charge of the van with so much confidence that Honor stares stupidly at him and says nothing. Then one of the men comes forward and touching his hat presents a letter to her.
"I don't know which of the young ladies it is for, miss," he says, then retires down the steps again to where the others are already unpacking the mysterious contents of the van.
"It is for you, Molly, I suppose; you are the only 'Miss M. Merivale' in the family excepting Daisy." And when her sister has broken the seal Honor looks over her shoulder and reads the following:—
"My dear Miss Molly,
"Please accept the accompanying little present from an old man whom you have often delighted with your playing. My old enemy the gout has necessitated my leaving England again for a time; so young Mr. Horton has promised to attend the sale at Lancaster Terrace and to manage this little business for me. I have written to your mother expressing the great sympathy I feel for you all in your sad bereavement, and to say that I shall take the earliest opportunity of calling to see you on my return, when you will perhaps oblige me with your admirable rendering of the 'Sonata Pathetique.' This will be the pleasantest thanks I can receive.
"Believe me to remain,
"Yours very truly,
"PETER BERESFORD."
Molly turns to Honor with eyes full of grateful tears at this unexpected kindness from a fresh quarter, but she is unable to say anything, for at the same moment the head man approaches them again and asks which room the instrument is to be taken into. It had been a bitter trial to poor Molly to have to leave her beloved piano to the mercy of strangers, and her unbounded delight may be imagined, therefore, now that she finds herself looking upon it once more with the proud consciousness that it is her own—her very own! Honor calls her into what will be the drawing-room, where she and Hugh are standing consulting with the man as to the best place to put it.
"Not too near the window, and certainly not near the door," says practical Molly promptly. "It mustn't be in a draught. Here would be a good place. Don't you think so, Honor? O, good gracious! here they come with it, staggering under its weight. How nicely it will help to furnish the room, Honor! And oh, what a dear old man Sir Peter is! I hope you'll grow up like him, Hugh!"
"Thanks! I shall want to strike out in a line of my own before I reach Sir Peter's age," laughs Hugh. "Do you wish me to be the same height also, Molly? because I can't accommodate you there, being already about half a foot taller."