A fortune had been expended on Alice’s musical education, yet she could do no more than rattle through some mediocre composition, with neither taste nor skill.
The money which has been wasted in trying to teach music to unmusical people would pay our national debt twice over, and leave a competency for every orphan in the land.
When the organist had finished her second selection, Mr Cheney addressed the same question to his wife which he had addressed to Alice.
“Who is the new organist?” he queried. Mabel only shook her head and placed her finger on her lip as a signal for silence during service.
The third time it was the Baroness, sitting just beyond Mabel, to whom Mr Cheney spoke. “That’s a very remarkable musician, very remarkable,” he said. “Do you know anything about her?”
“Yes, wait until we get home, and I will tell you all about her,” the Baroness replied.
When the service was over, Mr Cheney did not pass out at once, as was his custom. Instead he walked toward the pulpit, after requesting his family to wait a moment.
The rector saw him and came down into the aisle to speak to him.
“I want to congratulate you on the new organist,” Mr Cheney said, “and I want to meet her. Alice tells me it is a lady. She must have devoted a lifetime to hard study to become such a marvellous mistress of that difficult instrument.”
Arthur Stuart smiled. “Wait a moment,” he said, “and I will send for her. I would like you to meet her, and like her to meet your wife and family. She has few, if any, acquaintances in my congregation.”