Repeated refusals,
declarations of incapacity, partial consent vouchsafed and then
waywardly withdrawn, poutings, head-tossings, feebler murmurs of
disinclination, and final reluctant yielding form the fashionable order
of proceeding. The charm of it all is, that the original intention is
the same as the ultimate action. Whence, then, this folly? Having been
many times wretchedly bored by this sort of thing, I was now
correspondingly gladdened by the contrast.
Miss Tarlingford played well, and I said so.
"Pretty well," she answered, frankly; "but not so well as I could
wish."
Shock Number Two. It is customary in good society for tolerable
performers to disavow all praises, (secretly yearning for more,) and to
assail with invective their own artistic accomplishments. Here was a
young lady who played well, and had the hardihood to acknowledge it.
This rather took away my breath, and a vacuum began to come under my
waistcoat.
For three blissful days Miss Tarlingford and I were seldom separated.
Her sister, a pale, sedate maiden, of amiable appearance, and her
brother, a small, rude boy, of intrusive habits and unguarded speech, I
consented to undergo, for the sake of conventional necessity.
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