than any performance of ours, and so easily commanded when
we wish to hear it, that we don't think of calling our singing or
playing music at all. All the really fine singers and players are in
the musical service, and the rest of us hold our peace for the main
part. But would you really like to hear some music?"

I assured her once more that I would.

"Come, then, into the music room," she said, and I followed her into an
apartment finished, without hangings, in wood, with a floor of polished
wood. I was prepared for new devices in musical instruments, but I saw
nothing in the room which by any stretch of imagination could be
conceived as such. It was evident that my puzzled appearance was
affording intense amusement to Edith.

"Please look at to-day's music," she said, handing me a card, "and tell
me what you would prefer. It is now five o'clock, you will remember."

The card bore the date "September 12, 2000," and contained the longest
programme of music I had ever seen. It was as various as it was long,
including a most extraordinary range of vocal and instrumental solos,
duets, quartettes, and various orchestral combinations. I remained
bewildered by the prodigious list until Edith's pink finger tip
indicated a particular section of it, where several selections were
bracketed, with the words "5 P.M." against them; then I observed that
this prodigious programme was an all-day one, divided into twenty-four
sections answering to the hours. There were but a few pieces of music
in the "5 P.M." section, and I indicated an organ piece as my
preference.

"I am so glad you like the organ," said she. "I think there is scarcely
any music that suits my mood oftener."

She made me sit down comfortably, and, crossing the room, so far as I
could see, merely touched one or two screws, and at once the room was
filled with the music of a grand organ anthem; filled, not flooded,
for, by some means, the volume of melody had been perfectly graduated
to the size of the apartment. I listened, scarcely breathing, to the
close. Such music, so perfectly rendered, I had never expected to hear.

"Grand!" I cried, as the last great wave of sound broke and ebbed away
into silence. "Bach must be at the keys of that organ; but where is the
organ?"

"Wait a moment, please," said Edith; "I want to have you listen to this
waltz before you ask any questions. I think it is perfectly charming";
and as she spoke the sound of violins filled the