One or two of the bolt-upright variety remained and the "music chair" was still there, but pushed back into a corner.
Mary-'Gusta saw the music chair and a quiver of guilty fear tinged along her spine; that particular chair had always been, to her, the bright, particular glory of the house.

Not because it was beautiful, for that it distinctly was not; but because of the marvellous secret hidden beneath its upholstered seat.

Captain Marcellus had brought it home years and years before, when he was a sea-going bachelor and made voyages to Hamburg.

In its normal condition it was a perfectly quiet and ugly chair, but there was a catch under one arm and a music box under the seat.

And if that catch were released, then when anyone sat in it, the music box played "The Campbell's Are Coming" with spirit and jingle.
And, moreover, kept on playing it to the finish unless the catch was pushed back again.
To Mary-'Gusta that chair was a perpetual fascination.