I will not read aloud; so you need not offer me that 'Sonnet to
Flora,' in manuscript, nor your pet poet in print. We will talk; it is
a comfort to have my wit appreciated, after wasting so much on my
aunt, who cannot, and Miss Etty, who will not understand. I am glad to
have a chance to speak, and to hear a human voice in answer. I like
especially to rattle on when any nonsense will do. Chat is truly
agreeable when one's brains are not severely taxed to keep it going."
_Sept. 24th_. Charming little Canary! I have spent the forenoon with
her at the piano. I like her playing when she does not attempt my
favorite tunes. It must be confessed she is apt to vary somewhat, and
not for the better always. Her singing,--Aunt Tabitha well describes
it as that of a canary; sweet and liquid, and clear, and sustained,
but all alike. Her throat is a fine instrument; I shall teach her to
use it with more expression and feeling. We will have another lesson
to-morrow.
I thought, though, there was a shadow over her face when I called it
_practising_. Etty's eyes met mine at the moment, a rare occurrence.
What was her thought? One cannot read in her immovable face.
_Evening_. I am booked for a horseback ride with Little Handsome
to-morrow morning.
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