The front parlour at No. ——, St. Cecilia Terrace, was like all other front parlours of its class; there were horse-hair chairs and sofa, dyed moreen curtains, and the cast off furniture of humbler days, a former and less splendid house; no books, and a large work-basket; two young ladies that might be twelve and sixteen years of age, rose on their entrance; but did not long suspend the labours of their busy needles. There was a third person, whose semi-genteel dress, and hurried, anxious expression of face, and surrounding circle of shreds, of every hue and texture, declared her to be—"The very reasonable girl who goes out dress-making."
"Now, Miss Vernon," began Mrs. Potter, rapidly, almost before she was seated, "I want these two young ladies to be taught music. I understand you were a pupil of Herman's?"
"I was."
"And can you teach singing?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"Why," said Kate, "I cannot possibly be considered a fair judge."
"Well, I should like some reference as to your capabilities."
"I have none to offer, if you are not satisfied with Mr. Langley's opinion."