The Choir Invisible

"Ah! if you had been there, Aunt Jessica! If they had seen you in a ball

dress as I've seen you without one: those shoulders! those arms! that skin!

You would have been a swan among the rough-necked, red-necked turkeys," and

Amy glanced a little enviously at a neck that rose out of the plain dress as

though turned by a sculptor.

The sincere little compliment beat on Mrs. Falconer's ear like a wave upon a

stone.

"But if you did not go with John Gray, you danced with him, you talked with

him?"

"No," replied Amy, quickly growing grave, "I didn't dance with him. But we

talked yes--not much; it was a little too serious for many words," and she

sank into a mysterious silence, seeming even to forget herself in some new

recess of happiness.

Mrs. Falconer was watching her.

"Ah!" she murmured to herself. "It is too late! too late!" She passed her

fingers slowly across her brow with a feeling that life had turned ashen,

cold, barren."How is Kitty?" she asked quickly.

"Well--as always; and stupid."

"She is always kind and good, isn't she? and faithful."

"Kindness is not always interesting, unfortunately; and goodness is

dreadful, and her faithfulness bores me to death."

"At least, she was your hostess, Amy." "I lent her my silk stockings or

she'd have had to wear cotton ones," exclaimed Amy, laughing. "We're even."

"If you were merely paying for a lodging, you should have gone to the inn."

"There was nobody at the tavern who could wear my silk stockings; and I had

spent all my money."

"Don't you expect Kitty to return your visit?

"I certainly do-- more's the pity. She has such big feet!" Amy put out her

toe and studied it with vixenish satisfaction.

"Aunt Jessica," she observed at length, looking round at her aunt. "You

have to work too hard. And I have always been such a care to you. Wouldn't

you like to get rid of me?"

Mrs. Falconer leaned quickly, imploringly, toward her.

"Is that a threat, Amy?"

Amy waited half a minute and then began with a composure that was tinged

with condescension: "You have had so much trouble in your life, Aunt Jessica; so much sorrow."

Mrs. Falconer started and turned upon her niece her eyes that were always

exquisite with refinement.

"Amy, have I ever spoken to you of the troubles of my life?" The reproof was

majestic in dignity and gentleness.