The vicar accordingly prepared to depart, casting at the same time, upon his fair companion, a look which sufficiently expressed the scepticism he felt upon the occasion.
“But you have not told me,” said he, “by what signal I am to return, and submit to the proposed ordeal.”
“The music will inform you, if you pay sufficient attention to its language,” replied Miss Villers.
The door having been carefully closed, the company were consulted, in a whisper, as to the service they should require the vicar to perform. “I should propose,” said Miss Villers, “that Mr. Twaddleton be directed to take a rose out of the basket of flowers on the chimney-piece, and having smelt it, to carry it to the harp.”
“And do you propose to express all these different movements by the aid of music? If you succeed, there must be an end to the vicar’s scepticism,” observed Mr. Seymour.
“If I fail upon this occasion, it will be the first time,” said Miss Villers: “but you must all promise to be silent, and to maintain the most absolute command over your countenances.”
Miss Villers seated herself at the piano-forte, and played off an elegant and sparkling overture, which so delighted Mrs. Seymour that she involuntarily exclaimed, “If music can be made to speak an intelligible language, it must be under the guidance of Miss Villers.”
“Hush,” cried the performer, in a half whisper: “I am now about to summon the vicar into the room, and we must be as silent as Carthusians.”
She accordingly, with exquisite taste and address, introduced the air of “Open the door, Lord Gregory,” into which she infused so much expression, that the vicar must have been as dull as Midas had he not instantly caught its meaning. Nor were the lady’s hopes disappointed. Mr. Twaddleton entered, and appeared as if anxious to address the performer; but an intelligible glance from Mr. Seymour recalled him to his duty, and hermetically sealed his lips. His intention had been, doubtless, to enquire whether his appearance were seasonable; but the question was anticipated by Miss Villers, who immediately on his entrance struck up the air of “See the conquering Hero comes,” which, at once, satisfied his doubts, and conveyed, in language not to be misunderstood, the sanction of the enchantress, to whose spells he had so unreservedly intrusted himself.
The vicar had been told that he was to perform certain acts on his re-admission into the room; but, thought he, how am I to discover the thread which is to guide me through so perplexing a maze? I can discover at this moment nothing but a concord of sweet sounds, that would rather dispose me to listen in profound repose, than to enter upon any service of exertion. Miss Villers saw and guessed the nature of his embarrassment, and changing the melody, struck into the air of “Hearken and I will tell thee how.” She then, by a succession of well-selected chords, which were now played ‘piano,’ and now ‘forte,’ convinced the vicar that she commanded an instrument fully capable of readily and forcibly expressing encouragement and repulse in all its degrees.