"This won't do at all," I said.
"Perhaps that tune's got bent or something," said Eliza. "Put in another."
I put in "The Lost Chord" and "The Old Folks at Home," and both were complete failures—a mere jumble of notes, with no tune in them at all. I confess that this exasperated me.
"You see what you've done?" I said. "You've fooled away a shilling. Nothing is more idiotic than to buy a thing without trying it first."
"Why didn't you say that before, then?" said Eliza. "I don't believe there's anything really wrong with it—just some little thing that's got out of order, and can be put right again."
"Wrong! Why, it's wrong all through. Not one scrap of any of the tunes comes out right. I shall take it back to Lady Sandlingbury at once."
"Oh, don't do that!"
But my mind was made up, and I went back to the bazaar, and up to Lady Sandlingbury's stall. Eliza wouldn't come with me.
"I beg your ladyship's pardon," I said, "but your ladyship supplied me with this orchestrome, and your ladyship will have to take it back again."
"Dear me! what's all the trouble?"