If he paused and seemed about to relapse into silence, Edith would draw a long breath, as if she had just been inhaling some exhilarating gas, and exclaim,-- "Oh! do go on, brother; it is so long since we have heard you talk; it is such a luxury to hear a person talk, who really _says_ something." "I never care about talking, unless I do have something to _say_," he answered, "but I think I have monopolized attention long enough.

As a guest, I have a right to be entertained.

Have you forgotten my love for music, Edith ?" "O no! I remember all your favorite airs, and have played them a thousand times at least.

Do you wish to hear me now ?" "Certainly, I do; I have heard nothing so sweet as your voice, dear Edith, since I heard your last parting song." He rose and moved the harp forward, and seated her at the instrument.
"Does not Miss Lynn play ?" he asked, running his fingers carelessly over the glittering strings.
"Who is Miss Lynn ?" repeated Edith, with a look of inquiry.
I laughed at her surprise and my own.

It was the first time I had ever heard myself called so, and I looked round involuntarily to see who and where "Miss Lynn" was.
"Oh, Gabriella!" cried Edith, "I did not know whom you meant.