Pemberley Shades. D. A.Bonavia-Hunt

sillier and sillier and finally completely losing her head—and with such success that Elizabeth was overcome with laughter. But seeing that Georgiana, though also laughing, was half scandalized by his mimicry, she exerted herself to recover her composure and with it her dignity. Turning to Georgiana, she asked for some music.

      Georgiana was very willing to oblige, and sitting down at the pianoforte, gave a spirited rendering of a set of oldworld dances. Mr. Acworth professed himself enraptured. “How rare it is,” he exclaimed, “to find a young lady able to enter into the mind of the composer and with an execution so perfectly at the command of the most exigent taste.”

      After Georgiana had played again he entreated Mrs. Darcy to sing, praising her voice in terms that Elizabeth found fulsome and absurd. She could not altogether refuse, but having sung one short song, she asked him whether he did not also perform, momentarily forgetting that he had once spoken of possessing a violin. Nothing could give him greater pleasure, so he assured her, and asking leave to fetch his instrument, he departed in quest of it.

      While he was gone Elizabeth had time to reflect upon the change in his aspect from gloom and dissatisfaction to joyous animation. That a little music should work such a transformation seemed incredible. She began to think that what he really desired was to be taken notice of. Evidently, in spite all his protestations to the contrary, he had felt himself neglected.

      He returned carrying his violin and a sheaf of music, and for an hour or more Georgiana tried over one piece after another. From frequent attendance at concerts while in London, Elizabeth had heard many famous musicians and had learnt to distinguish their particular merits and the varying degrees of their attainment. She perceived very soon that Acworth was no ordinary performer. Not only was he completely the master of his instrument, but also he possessed that power over the emotions of his hearers without which skill alone is of little value. She listened with the fullest enjoyment, but when her first astonishment had abated, her thoughts became busy with the man himself, trying to reconcile his unusual gifts with his birth and the sort of upbringing he must have had as a nobleman’s son. His impersonation of the Miss Robinsons had been a perfect imitation of both, and had displayed an uncommon sense of character as well as a happy invention. In the course of conversation he displayed a wide, rather than a solid education, with much diversity of reading. And yet not infrequently he said and did what was not in good taste, and betrayed ignorance of the usages of polite society. Upon any consideration, viewed in any light, he was extraordinary.

      Towards the end of a piece in which great demands were made upon the principal performer, Elizabeth saw Darcy come into the room. He advanced slowly and noiselessly until he reached the hearth, where he took up his station a little behind the players, and there composed himself to listen. The music reaching its conclusion, Acworth turned towards Elizabeth and made her a low bow.

      “I salute my audience of one,” he said with a smile of conscious pride.

      “No, we are now two,” she replied, indicating her husband. “Mr. Darcy came in a little while ago. We have been sharing a very great pleasure.”

      Darcy cordially assented. Nevertheless Acworth’s countenance fell; he looked all at once as if he had eaten the sour grapes of which he had made mention in his sermon the previous Sunday.