Jonah's amazement increased. It was a mere daub, but to his untrained eye it was like the pictures in the Art Gallery, where he had spent a couple of dull afternoons. Over the piano a framed certificate announced that Clara Grimes had passed the junior grade of Trinity College in 1890. And Jonah, who had an eye for business like a Jew, who moved in an atmosphere of profit and loss, suddenly felt ill at ease. His shop, his money, and his success must seem small things to these women who lived in the world of art. His thoughts were brought back to earth by a sudden crash. Ray was sitting on a chair, impatient for the music to begin, and, as he never sat on a chair in the ordinary fashion, he had paralysed the Duchess with a series of gymnastic feats, twining his legs round the chair, sitting on his feet, kneeling on the seat with his feet on the back of the chair, until at last an unlucky move had tilted the chair backwards into a pot-stand. The jar fell with a crash, and Ray laughed. The Duchess uttered a cry of terror. "Yer young devil, keep still," cried Jonah, angrily. "Yer can pay fer that out of yer pocket-money," he added. "It was of no value," said the Duchess, with frigid dignity. "Perhaps Miss Grimes will play something," said Jonah. "Ray's talked of nothing else since daylight this morning." Clara sat down at the piano and ran her fingers over the keys. She had selected her masterpiece, "The Wind Among the Pines", a tone-picture from a shilling album. Her fingers ran over the keys with amazing rapidity as she beat out the melody with the left hand on the groaning bass, while with the right she executed a series of scales to the top of the keyboard and back. Jonah listened spellbound to the clap-trap arrangement. He had the native ear for music, and he recognized that he was in the presence of a born musician. Ray crept near, and listened with open mouth to this display of musical fireworks. When she had finished, Clara turned to Jonah with a languid smile, the look of the artist conscious of divine gifts. "My daughter was considered the best player at the convent where she was educated," said the Duchess--"a great talent wasted in this dreadful place." "I niver 'eard anythin' like that in my natural," said Jonah with enthusiasm. "If yer can teach Ray ter play like that, I'm satisfied." "You may depend upon her doing her best with your son, but it is not everyone who has Clara's talent," said the Duchess. "Play some more," said Ray. This time she selected a grand march, striking the dilapidated piano a series of stunning blows with both hands, filling the air with the noise of battle. "That must be terrible 'ard," said Jonah. "It takes it out of one," replied Clara, with the simplicity of an artist.