But--
"Hum!" he thought; "if there's to be a lot of 'entertaining,' the more
there are to be entertained the better it might turn out."
He met Hortense and Carolyn--with due stress laid on their respective
patronymics--and he made an early acquaintance with Amy's violin.
And further on Mrs. Phillips said:
"Now, Amy, before you really stop, do play that last little thing. The dear
child," she said to Cope in a lower tone, "composed it herself and
dedicated it to me."
The last little thing was a kind of "meditation," written very simply and
performed quite seriously and unaffectedly. And it gave, of course, a good
chance for the arms.
"There!" said Mrs. Phillips, at its close. "Isn't it too sweet? And it
inspired Carolyn too. She wrote a poem after hearing it."
"A copy of verses," corrected Carolyn, with a modest catch in her breath.
She was a quiet, sedate girl, with brown eyes and hair. Her eyes were shy,
and her hair was plainly dressed.
"Oh, you're so sweet, so old-fashioned!" protested Mrs. Phillips, slightly
rolling her eyes. "It's a poem,--of course it's a poem. I leave it to Mr.
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