rushed into the drawing-room—which was empty—and executed a wild but extremely graceful war-dance in front of the long mirror. When she was quite breathless she flung open the piano—even lifted the top to let out its full volume, and with her foot firmly planted on the pedal she thumped with all her might a barbarian valse by a barbarian and unpronounceable composer. Lady Theodosia ran into the room with her small white hands held over her ears.
"My dear Cynthia, what discord! Even the Russian person at the concert did not make such a noise."
"I am so tired of being cultured," said Cynthia, as she wound up her performance with shrieking chromatics in contrary motion. "A woman sacrifices a good deal when she undertakes to steer a possible genius. I shall go into the woods this afternoon with that stupid Edward Cargill and read him "Three Men in a Boat!''