"If it should ever come to pass that he marries her, he will make her promise to leave music alone," said Miss Eyrecourt to herself. And she almost felt sorry for Addie, working away so conscientiously and serenely, slurring no "tiresome bits," doing her "expressions"--_allegretto, rallentando_, and all the rest of them--so precisely according to the letter of the instructions of her "finishing master," Herr Spindler. She had really laboured hard, poor girl, to attain to her present undeniably great manual dexterity, and there had been difficulties in her way which had called for considerable patience and perseverance. For her hands--plump and short-fingered, though very nice little hands of their kind, and with a fair amount of muscle inside the white cushions--were not the sort of hands to which such wonderful agility as they were now displaying comes all at once or without a good deal of tutoring. It was really very funny to see the two little things scudding up and down after each other as hard as they could go, "exactly like two fat white mice," thought Beauchamp to himself; and the conceit, for which (not being addicted to the reading of more poetry than that of the day likely to be discussed at dinner-parties) he was not indebted to any one but himself, so tickled his fancy that it enabled him to endure with patience the penance to which he was; subjected, and to thank Adelaide at the close of her performance with becoming graciousness for the pleasure she had afforded them all. "You must have practised a great deal," he observed to her. "Oh, yes; two hours every day till I came out, and an hour every morning even now," she replied. "Dear me, I really admire your energy," he said, quietly, slightly raising his eyebrows, and inwardly trusting he might have timely warning of the special hour at which this praiseworthy young person's manual gymnastics were to be performed during her stay at Winsley. But Addie perceived no shadow of sarcasm in his softly uttered commendation, and took herself and her ample draperies across the room again to her mother's side in the happiest possible frame of mind. These two or three words were all that passed between Captain Chancellor and herself of direct conversation during the evening; yet, before she fell asleep, Addie confessed to herself that her cousin Beauchamp was by far the most charming man she had ever met, "more charming and decidedly handsomer than even Sir Arthur Boscawen or Colonel Townshendly, of the Blues." Adelaide safely disposed of, Beauchamp felt that he deserved a reward. "Come, Roma," said he, in a low voice, skilfully making room for himself behind the sofa on which Miss Eyrecourt was sitting alone, "do come and sing. You must have seen I have been very good."