"Shall I pass you the buttered toast?" said I.
"Muffins, if you please," said she, and so sweetly that I was blinded to the absence of sugar in my second cup of coffee.
I was confused by this incident. Many men would have concealed their disquietude by an affectation of sudden appetite, or by bullying the waiter, or by abrupt departure from the scene. I did neither. I felt I had a right to be confused, and I gloried in it.
Very soon Miss Tarlingford withdrew, and I experienced an aching void within, which chops and fritters had no power to replenish.
I opened a chambermaid's heart with a half-dollar, and the treasures of her knowledge were revealed to me. The beauty and her party were to remain a fortnight Among her companions there were no males, except a youthful irresponsibility. Exultemus!
Later in the morning I heard the tinkling of the parlor pianoforte. Music has soothing charms for me, though I have not a savage breast. I drew near, and found Miss Tarlingford trifling with the keys,—those keys which lock together so many chains of human sympathy. She rose, and gave out demonstrations of impending disappearance. I interposed,—
"Pray, continue. I am famished for music, and came specially to listen."
"It is hardly worth while."
"How can you say so? It is I who know best what I need."
"I will play for you, then."