He went to get his violin; my wife advanced to the piano, and rummaged among the scores.

Oh, how well I remember all the details of that evening! I remember how he brought the violin, how he opened the box, took off the serge embroidered by a lady's hand, and began to tune the instrument.

I can still see my wife sit down, with a false air of indifference, under which it was plain that she hid a great timidity, a timidity that was especially due to her comparative lack of musical knowledge.

She sat down with that false air in front of the piano, and then began the usual preliminaries,--the pizzicati of the violin and the arrangement of the scores.

I remember then how they looked at each other, and cast a glance at their auditors who were taking their seats.