This caught numberless lights from the candles, as did also the
wings of her glossy hair. He watched, with a kind of amused tenderness,
how at each forte passage head and shoulders took their share of lending
force to the tones. He never greatly enjoyed Mary's playing. She did
well enough at it, God bless her!--it would not have been Mary if she
hadn't--but he came of a musical family; his mother had sung Handel
faultlessly in her day, besides having a mastery of several instruments:
and he was apt to be critical. Mary's firm, capable hands looked out of
place on a piano; seemed to stand in a sheerly business relation to the
keys. Nor was it otherwise with her singing: she had a fair contralto,
but her ear was at fault; and he sometimes found himself swallowing
nervously when she attacked high notes.
"Oh, doctor! your wife DO play the pianner lovely," said Mrs. Devine,
and her fat front rose and fell in an ecstatic sigh.
"Richard dear, will you come?" Mary laid her hands on his shoulder:
their guests were clamouring for a DUO. Her touch was a caress: here he
was, making himself as pleasant as he knew how, to this old woman. When
it came to doing a kindness, you could rely on Richard; he was all bark
and no bite.
Husband and wife blended their voices--Mary had been at considerable
pains to get up her part--and then Richard went on to a solo. He had a
clear, true tenor that was very agreeable to hear; and Mary felt quite
proud of his attainments.
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