the circumstances. But Phina,
without perceiving it perhaps, was playing in "A minor," whereas it was
written in "A major," and all the sentiment of the melody was
transformed, and its plaintiveness chimed in well with her hidden
feelings.

But Godfrey stood embarrassed, and said not a word. His uncle took him
by the head and turning it to the light looked fixedly at him for a
moment or two. In this way he questioned him without having to speak,
and Godfrey was able to reply without having occasion to utter a
syllable.

And the lamentations of the "Depart du Fiance" continued their sorrowful
theme, and then William W. Kolderup, having made the turn of the room,
returned to Godfrey, who stood like a criminal before the judge. Then
raising his voice,--

"You are serious," he asked.

"Quite serious!" interrupted Phina, while Godfrey contented himself with
making a sign of affirmation.

"You want to try travelling before you marry Phina! Well! You shall try
it, my nephew!"

He made two or three steps and stopping with crossed arms before
Godfrey, asked,--

"Where do you want to go to?"

"Everywhere."

"And when do you want to start?"

"When you please, Uncle Will."

"All right," replied William W. Kolderup, fixing a curious look on his
nephew.

Then he muttered between his teeth,--

"The sooner the better."

At these last words came a sudden interruption from Phina. The little
finger of her left hand touched a G#, and the fourth had, instead of
falling on the key-note, rested on the "sensible," like Ralph in the
"Huguenots," when he leaves at the end of his duet with Valentine.

Perhaps Phina's heart was nearly full, she had made up her mind to say
nothing.

It was then that William W. Kolderup, without noticing Godfrey,
approached the piano.

"Phina," said he gravely, "you should never remain on the 'sensible'!"

And with the tip of his large finger he dropped vertically on to one of
the keys and an "A natural" resounded through the room.

CHAPTER IV.

IN WHICH T. ARTELETT, OTHERWISE TARTLET, IS DULY INTRODUCED TO THE
READER.

If T. Artelett had been a Parisian, his compatriots would not have
failed to nickname him Tartlet, but as he had already received this
title we do not hesitate to describe him by it. If Tartlet was not a
Frenchman he ought to have been one.

In his "Itineraire de Paris a Jerusalem," Chateaubriand tells of a
little man "powdered and frizzed in the old-fashioned