As she speaks see looks at herself in an opposite mirror, and smiles a small coquettish smile that is full of innocent childish satisfaction, as she marks the fair vision that is given back to her by the friendly glass. "I hope he won't look at you too much, for his own peace of mind," says Cissy, at which Clarissa laughs again; and then, the children getting impatient, they all go out to see the pigeons and the gardens, and stay lingering in the open air until afternoon tea is announced. CHAPTER XIV. "Where music dwells Lingering, and wandering on, as loath to die, Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality."--WORDSWORTH. The parish church of Pullingham is as naught in the eyes of the parishioners, in that it is devoid of an organ. No sweet sounds can be produced from the awful and terrifying instrument that for years has served to electrify the ears of those unfortunate enough to possess sittings in the church. It has at last failed! One memorable Sunday it groaned aloud,--then squeaked mildly; cr--r--r--k went something in its inside; there was a final shriek, more weird than the former, and then all was still! How thankful should they have been for that! I believe they were truly and devoutly so, but love for the "heavenly maid" still reigned in all their hearts, and with joy they hearkened to their vicar when he suggested the idea of a concert to be given for the purpose of raising funds wherewith to purchase a new organ, or, at least, to help to purchase it. The very thought was enough to raise high Jubilee within their musical hearts. Now, the one good thing still belonging to Mrs. Redmond is the remains of what must once have been a very beautiful voice. With this she possesses the power of imparting to others her own knowledge of music,--a rather rare gift. With her own children, of course, she can do nothing; they are veritable dead-letters in her hands,--she being one of those women who spend their lives admonishing and thrusting advice upon the world, yet find themselves unequal to the government of their own household. But with the village choir all is different; here she reigns supreme, and is made much of, for Pullingham is decidedly musical, and all its young men and all its young women either sing, or think they sing, or long after singing. Tenors, sopranos, and basses are to be met with round every corner; the very air is thick with them. The Pullinghamites _will_ sing, whether they can or not, with a go and a gusto that speaks well for their lungs, if a trifle trying to the listeners. Vocal music being the thing held highest in favor in the Methodist chapel, where Mr. Leatham, the "Methody" parson, holds unorthodox services, many were the seceders from the parish church to join the choir in the whitewashed chapel and shout the hymns of Moody and Sankey, just at the commencement of this story.