Adjoining the sitting-room was a pleasant, cozy little place, which Margaret called her music-room.

In it she kept her piano, her music stand, books, and several fine plants, besides numerous other little conveniences.

At the end of this room was a large closet where, at different seasons of the year, Mag hung away the articles of clothing which she and her sister did not need.
Toward this place Lenora turned her eyes; for, besides being unusually pleasant, it was also very near her mother, whose sleeping-room joined, though it did not communicate with it.

Accordingly, before noon the piano was removed to the parlor; the plants were placed, some on the piazza, and some in the sitting-room window, while Margaret and Carrie's dresses were removed to the closet of their room, which chanced to be a trifle too small to hold them all conveniently; so they were crowded one above the other, and left for "the girls to see to when they came home!" In perfect horror Aunt Polly looked on, regretting for once the ghost story which she had told.
"Why don't you take the chamber jinin' the young ladies?
that ain't haunted," said she, when they sent for her to help move the piano.
"Miss Margaret won't thank you for scattern' her things." "You've nothing to do with Lenora," said Mrs.Hamilton; "you've only to attend to your own matters." "Wonder then what I'm up here for a-h'istin this pianner," muttered Polly.

"This ain't my matters, sartin'." When Mr.Hamilton came in to dinner he was shown the little room with its single bed, tiny bureau, silken lounge and easy chair, of which the last two were Mag's especial property.
"All very nice," said he, "but where is Mag's piano ?" "In the parlor," answered his wife.