Miss Barks sat upright with the studiously neutral expression which befits the artist asked to listen to a rival.

Mr.Thornburgh sat pensive, one foot drooped over the other.

He was very fond of the Leyburn girls, but music seemed to him, good man, one of the least comprehensible of human pleasures.

As for Rose, she had at last arranged herself and her accompanist Agnes, after routing out from her music a couple of _Fantasie-Stuecke_, which she had wickedly chosen as presenting the most severely classical contrast to the 'rubbish' played by the preceding performers.

She stood with her lithe figure in its old-fashioned dress thrown out against the black coats of a group of gentlemen beyond, one slim arched foot advanced, the ends of the blue sash dangling, the hand and arm, beautifully formed but still wanting the roundness of womanhood, raised high for action, the lightly poised head thrown back with an air.