" How do ye do," he hiccoughed in a
friendly, kindly way; but a stout matron
in purple velvet, like a frigate in full sail,
bore down on him and swept him away,
and I saw him no more.
Again, I was alone. Oh ! the intense



198 THE REVERIES OF A SPINSTER.
awful loneliness of being solitary in a
crowd. The tears were coming into my
eyes, when my hostess bustled up,

" Will you play and sing for us, Miss
Jones?'*

I hesitated.
" I am hardly in a mood," I said.
" Oh ! but I have counted on your great '
talent to impress my friends," went on
the voluble lady. " You remember, I
said in my note of invitation, that I should
hope to be fortunate enough to secure
your services for part of the evening."

I had forgotten for the moment that
a generous check had been enclosed in the
note — why, of course, I had no choice.
I was the paid artiste, hired to minister
to the caprices of the spoilt children of
fortune.
I rose at once. One of the nearest
men offered me his arm, and led me to the
piano. The instrument was open ; the



THE BBVEBIBS OF A SPINSTEB. 199

candles in tall silver candlesticks stood on
either side of the music rack. I drew off
my long gloves slowly, and bowed to my
audience, who had settled themselves in
comfortable attitudes in chairs and on
sofas. The murmur of conversation died
away. There was a profound stillness in
the room as I sat down, and struck a few
opening chords.
