“Who was he?” asked Mary, coming forward, and joining Jenny.

“Dun know, Miss; never seen him afore,” said Uncle Ezra, “but he’s got heaps of money, for when he paid for the pianner, he took out a roll of bills near about big as my two fists!”

“Then the piano is gone,” said Jenny sadly, while Mary asked how much it brought.

“Three hundred dollars was the last bid I heard from that young feller, and somebody who was biddin’ agin him said, ’twas more’n ’twas wuth.”

“It wasn’t either,” spoke up Jenny, rather spiritedly, “It cost five hundred, and it’s never been hurt a bit.”

“Mr. Bender bought that little fiddle of your’n,” continued Uncle Ezra, with a peculiar wink, which brought the color to Jenny’s cheeks; while Mary exclaimed, “Oh, I’m so glad you can have your guitar again.”

Here the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the carriage, which came for the young ladies, who were soon on their way to Mr. Selden’s, Mary wondering what the surprise was, and Jenny hoping William would call in the evening.  At the door they met Ida, who was unusually merry,—­almost too much so for the occasion, it seemed to Mary, as she glanced at Jenny’s pale, dispirited face.  Aunt Martha, too, who chanced to cross the hall, shook Mary’s hand as warmly as if she had not seen her for a year, and then with her broad, white cap-strings flying back, she repaired to the kitchen to give orders concerning the supper.

Mary did not notice it then, but she afterwards remembered, that Ida seemed quite anxious about her appearance, for following her to her room, she said, “You look tired, Mary.  Sit down and rest you awhile.  Here, take my vinaigrette,—­that will revive you.”  Then as Mary was arranging her hair, she said, “Just puff out this side a little more;—­there, that’s right.  Now turn round, I want to see how you look.”

“Well, how do I?” asked Mary, facing about as Ida directed.

“I guess you’ll do,” returned Ida.  “I believe Henry Lincoln was right, when he said that this blue merino, and linen collar, was the most becoming dress you could wear:  but you look well in every thing, you have so fine a form.”

“Don’t believe all her flattery,” said Jenny, laughingly “She’s only comparing your tall, slender figure with little dumpy me; but I’m growing thin,—­see,” and she lapped her dress two or three inches in front.

“Come, now let’s go down,” said Ida, “and I’ll introduce you, to Jenny’s surprise, first.”

With Ida leading the way, they entered the music room, where in one corner stood Rose’s piano, open, and apparently inviting Jenny to its side.  With a joyful cry, she sprang forward, exclaiming, “Oh, how kind in your father; I almost know we can redeem it some time.  I’ll teach school,—­any thing to get it again.”

“Don’t thank father too much,” answered Ida, “for he has nothing to do with it, except giving it house room, and one quarter’s teaching will pay that bill!”