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  some girls of fifteen or sixteen, too, scattered about, a few of them accompanied by prim governesses.

Appleton heard the entrance of some one from the anteroom beyond the grand piano, then a few chords, struck by hands that loved the ivory keys and evoked a reciprocal tenderness every time they touched them; then:

So the chronicle ran on until the crisis came:

The history of the distracted lady’s unhappy passion persevered:

Appleton was at first too enchanted with the mischievous yet sympathetic rendition of