ts, and was not
expected to return for another hour at least.
Julius groaned in spirit. The finest music which Mozart has written for
the violin associates that instrument with the piano. Without the wife
to help him, the husband was mute. After an instant's consideration,
Julius hit on an idea which promised, in some degree, to remedy the
disaster of Mrs. Delamayn's absence from home.
"Has Mrs. Glenarm gone out, too?" he asked.
"No, Sir."
"My compliments. If Mrs. Glenarm has nothing else to do, will she be so
kind as to come to me in the music-room?"
The servant went away with his message. Julius seated himself on one of
the terrace-benches, and began to tune his violin.
Mrs. Glenarm--rightly reported by Bishopriggs as having privately
taken refuge from her anonymous correspondent at Swanhaven Lodge--was,
musically speaking, far from being an efficient substitute for Mrs.
Delamayn. Julius possessed, in his wife, one of the few players on
the piano-forte under whose subtle touch that shallow and soulless
instrument becomes inspired with expression not its own, and produces
music instead of noise. The fine organization which can work this
miracle had not been bestowed on Mrs. Glenarm. She had been carefully
taught; and she was to be trusted to play correctly--and that was all.
Julius, hungry for music, and reigned to circumstances, asked for no
more.
The servant returned with his answer. Mrs. Glenarm would join Mr.
Delamayn in the music-room in ten minutes' time.
Julius rose, relieved, and resumed his sauntering walk; now playing
little snatches of music, now stopping to look at the flowers on the
terrace, with an eye that enjoyed their beauty, and a hand that fondled
them with caressing touch. If Imperial Parliament had seen him at that
moment, Imperial Parliament must have given notice of a question to
his illustrious father: Is it possible, my lord, that _you_ can have
begotten such a Member as this?
After stopping for a moment to tighten one of the strings of his violin,
Julius, raising his head from the instrument, was surprised to see
a lady approaching him on the terrace. Advancing to meet her, and
perceiving that she was a total stranger to him, he assumed that she
was, in all probability, a visitor to his wife.
"Have I the honor of speaking to a friend of Mrs. Delamayn's?" he asked.
"My wife is not at home, I am sorry to say."
"I am a stranger to Mrs. Delamayn," the lady answered. "The s
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