Mrs. Richards was the personification of dignified indifference, while Miss Josephine sat looking out of a window, and partially concealed by its drapery.
She saw that she was wholly indebted to Mr. Richards for this opportunity of displaying her talent, and that they were evidently somewhat doubtful as to her ability to do what he claimed for her; therefore her fingers began to tingle to do their very best.
“Certainly; I shall be pleased to play for you if you desire it,” she said, as she walked quietly and unassumingly to the piano and sat down.
She had not struck a dozen notes before she had the undivided attention of every listener; and when she had concluded, two of the little company were quivering with jealous anger.
Josephine had the name of being a good musician, but both she and her mother could plainly perceive that she had not a tithe of the talent that the fair, despised girl, of whom they had tried to make a common servant, possessed.
“Play something else, please,” Mr. Richards said, when she had finished the sonata which she had played at school; and, without a word, her slender fingers went sweeping through one of Mendelssohn’s “Romances sans Paroles” in the most intoxicating manner imaginable, and her new admirer, with a look of pardonable triumph, thanked her most warmly when she concluded.
She quietly left the room, although she felt assured that a storm was ready to burst as soon as she should be beyond hearing; the very atmosphere was heavy with it.
She was right in her conjecture, for no sooner was the door closed behind her than Mrs. Richards’ tongue was loosed, and she broke forth in a torrent of wrath.
“Well, George Richards, I suppose you imagine that you have done something wonderful in bringing that girl here and showing her off to us; but you will find that you have made a mistake. It is very praiseworthy, indeed, to seek to humiliate one’s own daughter, and I should suppose you would feel very proud of such an achievement. Where is your self-respect, that you bring a beggar in here and set her up as a reproach to your wife? I will not stand it, sir—I tell you I will not stand it! Things are come to a pretty pass, I should say, if our domestic peace is to be destroyed by that insignificant chit, and I was a fool ever to consent to her coming here.”
This and much more of the same kind the angry woman poured forth in a perfect volley.