Roberts to her husband,
"but it doesn't matter. I don't want to know the story if there is
nothing to be done through it. There are stories enough that one
_must_ know."
CHAPTER XXX.
"IT IS NO MADE-UP AFFAIR"
It was Monday evening, and there was company at Mr. Roberts' home;
not the usual Monday evening gathering, but quite a large party of
well-dressed men and women, many of them young, yet some were
middle-aged. The pretty room opposite the conservatory was thrown open,
and aglow with lights and flowers; and groups were continually passing
in and out, admiring the paintings and the flowers, and the type-writers
of different patterns, and the books and magazines, of which there were
many. But interest was not confined to this room. The parlors were
thrown open and the music-room beyond; even the cosy little library was
public property for this one evening. The company was large, and their
tastes were varied; so no pains had been spared to give them variety.
You are acquainted with quite a number of the guests; yet I am by no
means sure that you would recognize them all. Even in so short a period
of time as three years, great changes may be elicited!
For instance, do you know the young man in unnoticeable, and therefore
appropriate, evening dress, who is doing duty at the piano, watching
with practiced eye the course of the player, and turning the leaf with
skilful hand at just the right moment? It is a somewhat embarrassing
position; but his manner leads you to suppose that he has been
accustomed to it all his life, and that he reads music well.
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