"Indeed!" said Mr. Stuart. "When I return to the city shall I refresh his memory a little with regard to you?"
"I'd rather you would not," answered Mary. "Our paths in life are very different; and he of course would feel no interest in me."
"Am I to conclude that you, too, feel no interest in him?" returned Mr. Stuart, and again his large eyes rested on Mary's face, with a curious expression.
But she made no reply, and soon rising up, said it was time for her to go home.
"Allow me to accompany you as far as Mrs. Campbell's," said Mr. Stuart. "I am going to call upon Miss Ella, whose acquaintance I accidentally made last summer. Suppose you call too. You know her, of course?" Mary replied that she did, and was about to speak of the relationship between them, when Mr. Stuart abruptly changed the conversation, and in a moment more they were at Mrs. Campbell's door. Ella was so much delighted at again seeing Mr. Stuart, that she hardly noticed her sister at all, and did not even ask her to remove her bonnet. After conversing a while upon indifferent subjects, Mr. Stuart asked Ella to play, saying he was very fond of music. But Ella, like other fashionable ladies, "couldn't of course play any thing,—was dreadfully out of practice, and besides that her music was all so old-fashioned."
Mr. Stuart had probably seen such cases before, and knew how to manage them, for he continued urging the matter, until Ella arose, and throwing back her curls, sauntered to wards the piano, saying she should be obliged to have some one turn the leases for her. Mr. Stuart of course volunteered his services, and after a violent turning of the music-stool by way of elevating it, and a turning back by way of lowering it, Ella with the air of a martyr, declared herself ready to play whatever Mr. Stuart should select, provided it were not "old."
A choice being made she dashed off into a spirited waltz, skipping a good many notes, and finally ending with a tremendous crash. Fond as Mr. Stuart was of music, he did not call for a repetition from her, but turning to Mary asked if she could play.
Ella laughed aloud at the idea, and when Mary replied that she did play a little, she laughed still louder, saying, "Why, she can't play, unless it's 'Days of Absence,' with one hand, or something of that kind."
"Allow me to be the judge," said Mr. Stuart, and leading Mary to the piano, he bade her play any thing she pleased.
Ida had been a faithful teacher, and Mary a persevering pupil, so that whatever she played was played correctly and with good taste; at least Mr. Stuart thought so, for he kept calling for piece after piece, until she laughingly told him her catalogue was nearly exhausted, and she'd soon be obliged to resort to the scales!