CHAPTER XI. THE GRAND BLÜTHNER.
There was a strange feeling over the old house, a feeling which had never pervaded it even in the unhappy days of the late Mrs. O'Brien. To all appearance, it was Maureen who was the cause of the misery. It was not that she ever complained, but that she looked fagged and lifeless. She locked her piano, the beautiful Blüthner. She could not stand Daisy's crashing chords and Henrietta's false notes. The two Mostyn girls went one day, when Maureen was out, on purpose to open this instrument in order to indulge in long squeals on it, and in short to injure it as much as possible. They hated the piano because it belonged to Maureen. They could not accuse her of robbery in connection with it, for Colonel Herbert had given it to her.
Mr. O'Brien was busy over his parochial work, and the girls thought they would have a fine time. They had dragged Denis and little Kitty into the room, and, wild with mischievous excitement, they proposed a dance.
"I'll play the music," said Daisy. "I'm the musical one; and Henny-penny, you can hop round with Denis. He's just about better than nobody, and that's about all I can say for him. Wherever is Dominic, I wonder? I say, Kitty—oh, don't look so frightened, you little goose!—where is your eldest brother? Where's the one respectable member of the family?" "Dominic—has gone—away—with Colonel Herbert—and Maureen," faltered Kitty. "Colonel Herbert brought his motor car—and the three went away together. I—I don't want—to dance, please—'sides, I couldn't, as the pianner is locked."
"Locked, you little brat, you little imp! What on earth do you mean?"
"Please, I'm going out," said Kitty.
"You don't go out until you tell us the truth." "'Pon my word, she's right."
Henrietta struggled with all her might to open the instrument; but the lock was good—in fact, a double one—and the great piano stood in its solitary splendour completely shut away from mischievous fingers.
"Well, this is more than I can stand," said Henrietta. "Look here, Denis, you'll be a man some day, and a right handsome one, too—fetching, you know."
"Whatever's fetching?" asked Denis.