to my house to play. Mr. Harling not only demanded a quiet house, he
demanded all his wife's attention. He used to take her away to their
room in the west ell, and talk over his business with her all evening.
Though we did not realize it then, Mrs. Harling was our audience when we
played, and we always looked to her for suggestions. Nothing flattered
one like her quick laugh.

Mr. Harling had a desk in his bedroom, and his own easy-chair by the
window, in which no one else ever sat. On the nights when he was at
home, I could see his shadow on the blind, and it seemed to me an
arrogant shadow. Mrs. Harling paid no heed to anyone else if he was
there. Before he went to bed she always got him a lunch of smoked salmon
or anchovies and beer. He kept an alcohol lamp in his room, and a French
coffee-pot, and his wife made coffee for him at any hour of the night he
happened to want it.

Most Black Hawk fathers had no personal habits outside their domestic
ones; they paid the bills, pushed the baby-carriage after office hours,
moved the sprinkler about over the lawn, and took the family driving on
Sunday. Mr. Harling, therefore, seemed to me autocratic and imperial in
his ways. He walked, talked, put on his gloves, shook hands, like a man
who felt that he had power. He was not tall, but he carried his head so
haughtily that he looked a commanding figure, and there was something
daring and challenging in his eyes. I used to imagine that the 'nobles'
of whom Antonia was always talking probably looked very much like
Christian Harling, wore caped overcoats like his, and just such a
glittering diamond upon the little finger.

Except when the father was at home, the Harling house was never quiet.
Mrs. Harling and Nina and Antonia made as much noise as a houseful of
children, and there was usually somebody at the piano. Julia was the
only one who was held down to regular hours of practising, but they
all played. When Frances came home at noon, she played until dinner was
ready. When Sally got back from school, she sat down in her hat and coat
and drummed the plantation melodies that Negro minstrel troupes brought
to town. Even Nina played the Swedish Wedding March.

Mrs. Harling had studied the piano under a good teacher, and somehow she
managed to practise every day. I soon learned that if I were sent over
on an errand and found Mrs. Harling at the piano, I must sit down and
wait quietly until she turned to me. I can see her at thi