"I told you so!" she said; "_you_ make an idol of your
foolish plaything, but other people take it only for the nuisance
it is."
"Indeed, you never were more mistaken," said Mary. "Both Mrs.
Helmer and myself are charmed with the little that reaches us. It
is, indeed, seldom one hears tones of such purity."
The player responded with a sigh of pleasure.
"Now there you are, miss," cried Ann, "a-flattering of his folly
till not a word I say will be of the smallest use!"
"If your words are not wise," said Mary, with suppressed
indignation, "the less he heeds them the better."
"It ain't wise, to my judgment, miss, to make a man think himself
something when he is nothing. It's quite enough a man should
deceive his own self, without another to come and help him."
"To speak the truth is not to deceive," replied Mary. "I have
some knowledge of music, and I say only what is true."
"What good can it be spending his time scraping horsehair athort
catgut?"
"They must fancy some good in it up in heaven," said Mary, "or
they wouldn't have so much of it there."
"There ain't no fiddles in heaven," said Ann, with indignation;
"they've nothing there but harps and trumpets." Mary turned to
the man, who had not said a word.
"Would you mind coming down with me," she said, "and playing a
little, very softly, to my friend? She has a little baby, and is
not strong.
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