These practisings went on very prosperously for a good while. To the geological lectures succeeded a chemical course, and then, dearest of all to Mr. Ferrand's mind, a course of lectures on education. At least three evenings in the week the girls were left to themselves, and spent their time over the piano. Marion grumbled a little at the loss of so much of her readings, but she liked the piano, and she was too good-natured to interfere with Rhoda's pleasure. "This is a miserable piano," said Rhoda, one evening. "Mr. Harvey tuned it this morning, and now just hear!" "Why, what's the matter?" said Isa as Rhoda struck a chord. "I don't see anything wrong." "Eh, lass, you've no more ear than a brown pig," said Marion. "Haven't brown pigs as many ears as other pigs?" asked Isa. Rhoda laughed. "She means a pitcher," said she. "That's the Scotch of it. But really, Isa, does that sound right to you?" "I don't see anything out of the way, honestly. But, Rhoda, you might as well play on the grand piano if you want to. Nobody will be the wiser." "It would be venturesome," observed Marion. "You see, nobody can hear this piano from the street, and your father ay makes such a work scraping his feet that you have time enough to get out of the way. But in the drawing-room, you would be sure to get caught unless you heard the gate shut, and that unlucky baker's boy ay leaves it open. You wouldn't like Mr. Ferrand to come home and catch you?" Rhoda's very ears tingled with the burning blush which these words brought to her face. Had it come to that? Was she afraid of being found out, like a boy who has been stealing apples? Some words of Aunt Hannah's, spoken long ago in Sunday-school, rose to her mind: "Whenever you are afraid of being found out, be sure you are doing wrong." What would Aunt Hannah say to her now? Rhoda had weakened her own moral sense and powers of resistance very much lately, but she had not brought herself to think deception right or excusable. She resisted faintly, however, as Isa continued to urge her to try the grand piano in the parlour, and only yielded after a struggle. The piano was a very superior one—by far the finest she had ever seen or touched; and she forgot everything in the fascination of playing Beethoven's grand waltz, which she had just learned. "I declare, you are beyond everything," said Isa, drawing a long breath as the piece was concluded. "And just to think that you didn't know hardly anything when you came here!" "Didn't know hardly anything?" repeated Rhoda. "Oh, Isa, what a sentence! But I did know a good deal, you must remember. I could read notes very well, and I had learn some pieces before I came from home. I used to play on Fanny Badger's piano and on the church melodeon, and Miss Wilkins taught me a great deal. Don't make me out quite a prodigy, Isa. But oh, I do wish I could have some lessons."