Mrs. N. (interrupts). My child, just begin again at the beginning, and let us enjoy the whole of "The Huguenots." Mr. Dominie likes it.
(Fatima consents, and hurries through the whole Potpourri with a confident, conceited air, to the great despair of Dominie. At the choral, the aunt taps him on the shoulder, and whispers.)
Aunt. Is not that touching? It is a little too fast, you will agree; but then the execution! Has not the girl a great deal of talent? Just hear!
But what did Dominie say after the performance was over? He only bowed stiffly, and what he said to himself will always remain a secret. He only felt.
They go in to supper. All who submitted to hearing the daughter perform on the badly tuned piano, which was at least a tone and a half too low, were invited to supper and handsomely treated. The wine was better than the piano. Presently the teacher, Mr. Feeble, having finished his birthday bravoura composition, appeared and was introduced. Fatima whispered to him, giggling, "I played the whole of 'The Huguenots;' it went splendidly." Mr. Feeble simpered. Dominie and he talked together, unheard, at the end of the table.
Dominie. The young lady has talent, Mr. Feeble.
Mr. Feeble. Indeed she has!
Dominie. How is it, Mr. Feeble, that she does not combine serious studies with her playing?