rn, and the dear
people smiled at one another significantly. Even Mary could scarcely
keep a straight face.

The tea then appeared, and was taken more or less silently. With the
exception of the fashionable Mrs. Clibborn, they were all more used to
making a sit-down meal of it, and the care of holding a cup, with a
piece of cake unsteadily balanced in the saucer, prevented them from
indulging in very brilliant conversational feats; they found one
gymnastic exercise quite sufficient at a time. But when the tea-cups
were safely restored to the table, Mrs. Jackson suggested a little
music.

"Will you open the proceedings, Mary?"

The curate went up to Miss Clibborn with a bow, gallantly offering his
arm to escort her to the piano. Mary had thoughtfully brought her
music, and began to play a 'Song Without Words,' by Mendelssohn. She was
considered a fine pianist in Little Primpton. She attacked the notes
with marked resolution, keeping the loud pedal down throughout; her eyes
were fixed on the music with an intense, determined air, in which you
saw an eagerness to perform a social duty, and her lips moved as
conscientiously she counted time. Mary played the whole piece without
making a single mistake, and at the end was much applauded.

"There's nothing like classical music, is there?" cried the curate
enthusiastically, as Mary stopped, rather out of breath, for she played,
as she did everything else, with energy and thoroughness.

"It's the only music I really love."

"And those 'Songs Without Words' are beautiful," said Colonel Parsons,
who was standing on Mary's other side.

"Mendelssohn is my favourite composer," she replied. "He's so full of
soul."

"Ah, yes," murmured Mr. Dryland. "His heart seems to throb through all
his music. It's strange that he should have been a Jew."

"But then Our Lord was a Jew, wasn't He?" said Mary.

"Yes, one is so apt to forget that."

Mary turned the leaves, and finding another piece which was familiar to
her, set about it. It was a satisfactory thing to listen to her
performance. In Mary's decided touch one felt all the strength of her
character, with its simple, unaffected candour and its eminent sense of
propriety. In her execution one perceived the high purpose which
animated her whole conduct; it was pure and wholesome, and thoroughly
English. And her piano-playing served also as a moral lesson, for none
could listen without remembering that life was not an affair to b