Whether at the
bottom of her soul lies any uneasy consciousness of an oppressive
presence, it is hard to say, until we know more about her. Iris sits
between the little man and the "Model of all the Virtues," as the
black-coated gentleman called her.--I will watch them all.
----Here I stop for the present. What the Professor said has had to make
way this time for what he saw and heard.
* * * * *
----And now you may read these lines, which were written for gentle
souls who love music, and read in even tones, and, perhaps, with
something like a smile upon the reader's lips, at a meeting where these
musical friends had gathered. Whether they were written with smiles or
not, you can guess better after you have read them.
THE OPENING OF THE PIANO.
In the little southern parlor of the house you
may have seen
With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking
westward to the green,
At the side toward the sunset, with the window
on its right,
Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming
of to-night.
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