‘What shall we talk about?’ said Rose demurely. ‘What a magnificent old house this is!’ ‘Stuff and nonsense! I don’t want to talk about the house. I am sick to death of it. And if your people live in the parish you are, too. I return to my question. Come, tell me, what is your particular line in life? I am sure you have one, by your face. You had better tell me; it will do you no harm.’ Lady Charlotte settled herself comfortably on the sofa, and Rose, seeing that there was no chance of escaping her tormentor, felt her spirits rise to an encounter. ‘Really--Lady Charlotte--’ and she looked down, and then up, with a feigned bashfulness--‘I--I--play a little.’ ‘Humph!’ said her questioner again, rather disconcerted by the obvious missishness of the answer. ‘You do, do you? More’s the pity. No woman who respects herself ought to play the piano nowadays. A professional told me the other day that until nineteen-twentieths of the profession were strung up, there would be no chance for the rest, and, as for amateurs, there is simply _no_ room for them whatever. I don’t conceive anything more passé than amateur pianoforte playing!’ ‘I don’t play the piano,’ said Rose, meekly. ‘What--the fashionable instrument, the banjo?’ laughed Lady Charlotte. ‘That would be really striking.’ Rose was silent again, the corners of her month twitching. ‘Mrs. Darcy,’ said her neighbor raising her voice. ‘This young lady tells me she plays something; what is it?’ Mrs. Darcy looked in a rather helpless way at Catherine. She was dreadfully afraid of Lady Charlotte. Catherine, with a curious reluctance, gave the required information, and then Lady Charlotte insisted that the violin should be sent for, as it had not been brought. ‘Who accompanies you?’ she inquired of Rose. ‘Mr. Langham plays very well,’ said Rose, indifferently. Lady Charlotte raised her eyebrows. ‘That dark, Byronic-looking creature who came with you? I should not have imagined him capable of anything sociable. Letitia, shall I send my maid to the Rectory, or can you spare a man?’ Mrs. Darcy hurriedly gave orders, and Rose, inwardly furious, was obliged to submit. Then Lady Charlotte, having gained her point, and secured a certain amount of diversion for the evening, lay back on the sofa, used her fan, and yawned till the gentlemen appeared. When they came in, the precious violin which Rose never trusted to any other hands but her own without trepidation had just arrived, and its owner, more erect than usual, because more nervous, was trying to prop up a dilapidated music-stand which Mrs. Darcy had unearthed for her. As Langham came in, she looked up and beckoned to him. ‘Do you see?’ she said to him impatiently, ‘They have made me play. Will you accompany me? I am very sorry, but there is no one else.’