Mother retired; Verry still played.
"Her talent is wonderful," said father, taking the cigar from his mouth.

"By the way, you must take lessons in Milford; I wish you would learn to sing." I acquiesced, but I had no wish to learn to play.

I could never perform mechanically what I heard now from Verry.

When she ceased, I woke from a dream, chaotic, but not tumultuous, beautiful, but inharmonious.

Though the fire had gone out, the lamps winked brightly, and father, moving his cigar to the other side of his mouth, changed his regards from one lamp to the other, and said he thought I was growing to be an attractive girl.