"Many thanks, Mistress Loveday!" said she pleasantly, when I had restored the frame to her. "You have plenty of finger wit, I see."
"More of finger wit than head wit, perhaps!" said Philippa, with that kind of smile which says—"see how superior I am." "I believe they do not often go together."
"I am not sure of that," I answered. "Sister Cicely, our organist, of whom I learned music, was the most beautiful seamstress I ever saw, and people came from far and near to hear her playing."
"Then you play the organ?" said Margaret, eagerly; and, as I assented, she went on—"You must come and try my husband's. He bought it at one of the convents which have been closed lately, and had it set up in our house. You must come and play for us."
"I should be very glad to do so," I answered—
Whereat Philippa said, with emphasis:
"You are very much favored, Mistress Loveday. Cousin Margaret Hall never asked me to play for her."
"I did not know that you played," said Margaret.
"No, and you never tried to find out. Oh, you need not excuse yourself. For my part, I would not have such an instrument in my house—I should expect it to bring a curse upon me."
"It is better in my parlor than broken up for the sake of the lead!" said Margaret, rising. "Mistress Loveday, would you not like to go over the house?"