d the company's premises. He had certainly intended that Gilbert
should follow in his steps; perhaps he meant to establish a dynasty of
Swanns, in which the secretaryship of the twenty per cent. paying
company should descend for ever from father to son. But Gilbert's
astounding facility in music had shaken even this resolve, and Gilbert
had been allowed at the age of fifteen to enter, as assistant, the shop
of Mr James Otkinson, the piano and musical instrument dealer and
musicseller, in Crown Square, Hanbridge. Here, of course, he found
himself in a musical atmosphere. Here he had at once established a
reputation for showing off the merits of a piano, a song, or a waltz, to
customers male and female. Here he had thirty pianos, seven harmoniums,
and all the new and a lot of classical music to experiment with. He
would play any "piece" at sight for the benefit of any lady in search of
a nice easy waltz or reverie. Unfortunately ladies would complain that
the pieces proved much more difficult at home than they had seemed under
the fingers of Gilbert in the shop. Here, too, he began to give lessons
on the piano. And here he satisfied his secret ambition to learn the
violoncello, Mr Otkinson having in stock a violoncello that had never
found a proper customer. His progress with the 'cello had been such that
the theatre people offered him an engagement, which his father and his
own sense of the enormous respectability of the Swanns compelled him to
refuse. But he always played in the band of the Five Towns Amateur
Operatic Society, and was beloved by its conductor as being utterly
reliable. His connection with choirs started through his merits as a
rehearsal accompanist who could keep time and make his bass chords heard
against a hundred and fifty voices. He had been appointed (_nem. con._)
rehearsal accompanist to the Festival Chorus. He knew the entire
Festival music backwards and upside down. And his modestly-expressed
desire to add his 'cello as one of the local reinforcements of the
London orchestra had been almost eagerly complied with by the Advisory
Committee.

Nor was this all. He had been invited to dinner by Mrs Clayton Vernon,
the social leader of Bursley. In the affair of the Festival Mrs Clayton
Vernon loomed larger than even she really was. And this was due to an
accident, to a sheer bit of luck on her part. She happened to be a
cousin of Mr Herbert Millwain, the leader of the orchestra down from
London. Mrs C