Fleming
rendered the accompaniments to Elsie's violin pieces and Meg's songs
with a delicacy of touch that revealed the true musician.

"I wish you'd play something to me," begged Diana one day when the
girls' practising was over and their mother was rising from the piano.

"_I_, my dear child! I never play now."

"Why not?"

"I gave up my music long ago, when I got married."

"You haven't forgotten it, though."

"Well, not altogether, of course. I'm a good reader still."

"Please!" urged Diana.

And, to content her impetuous visitor, Mrs. Fleming gave in. She pulled
a volume of Chopin from the stand, and began the twelfth nocturne. It
was years since she had played it, but as she touched the keys the old
spirit crept back into her fingers, and the notes came rippling out
delicately and easily. Diana, sunk back in the recesses of the long
basket-chair, listened fascinated. She loved music when it was of a
superior quality, and she did not often get the chance of hearing
playing such as this.

"More! More!" she begged, when the nocturne came to an end.

The ice once broken, Mrs. Fleming, as much to her own astonishment as to
that of the family, actually revived her interest in the piano. She
hunted out her old pieces and began to practise them. She said it was to
amuse Diana, but it was evident that enjoyment was mixed with her
philanthropy. As a girl she had studied under a good master, and she had
much natural talent. She would improvise sometimes, and even compose
little things of her own.

"Why, my dear," said her husband, peeping into the drawing-room one
evening just at the conclusion of the "Moonlight Sonata", "this takes me
back to the time when we were engaged! I've been sitting listening in my
study."

Diana, squatting on one foot in the corner of the sofa, clapped her
hands softly. She liked the Vicar, but she thought his antiquarian
researches monopolized the conversation at meal-times. It was quite nice
to hear him express appreciation for some other line than his own. Diana
had a scheme in her mind, and, when she judged the time was ripe, she
proposed it suddenly and boldly in the face of the whole united family
of Flemings. It was nothing more or less than that Mrs. Fleming should
play a solo at the concert which was to be held at the schools on the
10th of January. In vulgar parlance, she "shot her bird sitting",
plumped the idea upon her, and dragged forth an acceptance before--as
the poo