with more character in her little finger than
some girls possess in their whole body. I met him one day, some three
months after his return to London.

And only people would do Parlour Tricks who do them well!

"Well," I asked him, "how is it shaping?"

"She is the dearest girl in the world," he answered. "She has only got
one fault; she believes what people say."

"She will get over that," I suggested.

"I hope she does," he replied; "it's awkward at present."

"I can see it leading her into difficulty," I agreed.

"She is not accomplished," he continued. He seemed to wish to talk about
it to a sympathetic listener. "She never pretended to be accomplished. I
did not marry her for her accomplishments. But now she is beginning to
think she must have been accomplished all the time, without knowing it.
She plays the piano like a schoolgirl on a parents' visiting-day. She
told them she did not play--not worth listening to--at least, she began
by telling them so. They insisted that she did, that they had heard
about her playing, and were thirsting to enjoy it. She is good nature
itself. She would stand on her head if she thought it would give real
joy to anyone. She took it they really wanted to hear her, and so let
'em have it. They tell her that her touch is something quite out of the
common--which is the truth, if only she could understand it--why did she
never think of taking up music as a profession? By this time she is
wondering herself that she never did. They are not satisfied with
hearing her once. They ask for more, and they get it. The other evening
I had to keep quiet on my chair while she thumped through four pieces one
after the other, including the Beethoven Sonata. We knew it was the
Beethoven Sonata. She told us before she started it was going to be the
Beethoven Sonata, otherwise, for all any of us could have guessed, it
might have been the 'Battle of Prague.' We all sat round with wooden
faces, staring at our boots. Afterwards those of them that couldn't get
near enough to her to make a fool of her crowded round me. Wanted to
know why I had never told them I had discovered a musical prodigy. I'll
lose my temper one day and pull somebody's nose, I feel I shall. She's
got a recitation; whether intended to be serious or comic I had never
been able to make up my mind. The way she gives it confers upon it all
the disadvantages of both. It is chiefly concerned with an angel a