go to
listen to 'too-ti-toos' on that horrid big instrument. When Mr. Herschel
played on it the other night, I could think of nothing but a wretch
groaning in limbo. Ah, dear! Come, read the news; there ought to be
something droll in the Bath paper. I have no appetite. I am afraid I am
no better for the waters. But I must drag my poor little self up
to-morrow, and be at the Pump Room early. One is sure to hear a little
gossip there, thank goodness."

It was by no means an easy task to prepare the drawing-room at the
Herschels' house for a rehearsal. Instruments of every kind blocked the
way, and these were not all musical instruments. Then there was the
arranging of the parts; the proper disposal of the music; the seats for
the guests who might happen to drop in, for these receptions answered,
perhaps, to the informal "at home" days of our own society of these
later times, when "at home," written on the ordinary visiting-card,
signifies that all who like to come are supposed to be welcome.

Caroline Herschel went about her preparations with the same steady
perseverance which characterized everything she did. Her servant was one
of her trials--I must almost say her greatest trial--at this time. If
ever her temper failed her, it was at some misdemeanour of the
handmaiden who, for the time, filled the part of general helper in Miss
Herschel's household.

Like most of her countrywomen, neatness and order were indispensable to
her comfort; and think, then, what the constant intrusion into every
corner of the house of lathes and turning-machines, of compasses and
glasses, and mirrors and polishing apparatus must have been! No wonder
that the English or Welsh servant, however willing, failed to meet her
mistress's requirements.

On this occasion she had, with the best intention, bustled about; but
had always done precisely the reverse of what she was told to do.

At last, breaking out into German invective, her mistress had given her
a rather decided push from the room, and had called Alexander to come to
her rescue.

"The slut! Look at the dust on the harpsichord! Did I not tell her to
remove every speck before it was placed by the window? I would fifty
times sooner do all the work myself. What would our mother say at all
this?"

"Heaven knows!" Alex said, laughing. "But, sister, the room looks spick
and span; and here is an arrival."

"It is only Mr. Travers; he is to play the second violin. Entertain him,
Alex