“Yes, that’s a violin case,” rejoined Mr. Whacker, softly, while his eyes made an involuntary movement in the direction of the neighboring corner. “And another!” exclaimed the Don, “and still another! and, upon my word, there is a violoncello in the fourth corner!” My grandfather threw his head back as though he would gaze upon the ceiling, but closed his eyes; and rocking gently back and forth, and softly flapping upon the floor with both feet, was silent for a while. He was content. The surprise of the stranger had been complete—dramatically complete,—his wondering admiration obvious and sincere. Charley watched his friend quietly, with a tender humor in his eyes. He had witnessed a number of similar scenes in this room, but this had been the most entirely successful of them all. “The third box,” resumed my grandfather, softly, with his eyes still closed, and still rocking from heel to toe, “contains a viola.” “A viola! Then you have a complete set of quartet instruments!” And he turned, looking from case to case, as if to make sure that he saw aright. “What a droll, divorced air they have in this great room, each solitary in his own corner! Surely you can never—” “Never use them?” And my grandfather paused with a smile on his face. “I find this room rather cold. Let us adjourn to the Library and I will tell you how we manage.” CHAPTER XX. So, while Mr. Whacker is explaining matters to the Don, I shall make things clear to the reader.