trios and solos she knew; while still
declaring, in a dismal fashion, that she knew the whole thing would be
a dismal failure, and that the great cause would lose by it more than
it would gain.

Many days, many hours, has Mr. Redmond spent arranging and
disarranging all the details of the proposed concert.

The idea is in itself a "happy thought,"--far happier than any of
Burnand's (so he tells himself); but a concert, however unpretentious,
is a prodigious affair, and not to be conducted by half a dozen raw
recruits.

Besides, the county admires the county, and would prefer seeing itself
represented on the boards to listening to the warblings, be they never
so sweet, of an outsider. It is so far more delicious to laugh behind
one's fan at the people in one's own set than at those outside the
pale of recognition. And, of course, the county must be humored.

The vicar grows nervous as he masters this fact, and strives
diligently to discover some among the upper ten who will come forward
and help to sweeten and gild the "great unwashed."

The duchess, unfortunately, is from home; but Lady Mary and Lady
Patricia are at the Castle, and Lady Mary--when she can be heard,
which, to do her justice, is very seldom, even in a very small
room--can sing nice little songs very nicely. Indeed, she is fond of
describing her own voice as "a sweet little voice," and certainly all
truth is embodied in the word "little."

Then there is young Hicks, the surgeon's son, who boasts a good
baritone, and is addicted to Molloy and Adams and all of their class,
and who positively revels in Nancy Lees, and such gentle beings as
those to whom the "Tar's Farewell" may be gently breathed.

Then there is the long gawky man staying with the Bellews, who can
shout from afar, and make music of his own that will probably, nay,
surely, go a long way towards bringing down the house, as far as the
farmer class is concerned; and with him will come Miss Bellew, who can
produce a very respectable second in any duet, and who is safe to go
anywhere with the long gawky young man, if report speaks truly.

Mrs. McConkie, from the neighboring parish, will lend a helping hand,
her husband being a brother clergyman; and there is, besides, Mr.
Henly, who plays the violin, and Mr. Johnson, who can recite both
comic and melancholy pieces with such success as to bring tears or
laughter, as the case may be, into the eyes of any one with half a
soul!

As nobody w