thing of it; and there is poor Jane Fairfax, who is mistress of music, has not any thing of the nature of an instrument, not even the pitifullest old spinet in the world, to amuse herself with.—­I was saying this to Mr. Cole but yesterday, and he quite agreed with me; only he is so particularly fond of music that he could not help indulging himself in the purchase, hoping that some of our good neighbours might be so obliging occasionally to put it to a better use than we can; and that really is the reason why the instrument was bought—­ or else I am sure we ought to be ashamed of it.—­We are in great hopes that Miss Woodhouse may be prevailed with to try it this evening.”

Miss Woodhouse made the proper acquiescence; and finding that nothing more was to be entrapped from any communication of Mrs. Cole’s, turned to Frank Churchill.

“Why do you smile?” said she.

“Nay, why do you?”

“Me!—­I suppose I smile for pleasure at Colonel Campbell’s being so rich and so liberal.—­It is a handsome present.”

“Very.”

“I rather wonder that it was never made before.”

“Perhaps Miss Fairfax has never been staying here so long before.”

“Or that he did not give her the use of their own instrument—­ which must now be shut up in London, untouched by any body.”

“That is a grand pianoforte, and he might think it too large for Mrs. Bates’s house.”

“You may say what you chuse—­but your countenance testifies that your thoughts on this subject are very much like mine.”

“I do not know.  I rather believe you are giving me more credit for acuteness than I deserve.  I smile because you smile, and shall probably suspect whatever I find you suspect; but at present I do not see what there is to question.  If Colonel Campbell is not the person, who can be?”

“What do you say to Mrs. Dixon?”

“Mrs. Dixon! very true indeed.  I had not thought of Mrs. Dixon.  She must know as well as her father, how acceptable an instrument would be; and perhaps the mode of it, the mystery, the surprize, is more like a young woman’s scheme than an elderly man’s.  It is Mrs. Dixon, I dare say.  I told you that your suspicions would guide mine.”

“If so, you must extend your suspicions and comprehend Mr.  Dixon in them.”

“Mr. Dixon.—­Very well.  Yes, I immediately perceive that it must be the joint present of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon.  We were speaking the other day, you know, of his being so warm an admirer of her performance.”

“Yes, and what you told me on that head, confirmed an idea which I had entertained before.—­I do not mean to reflect upon the good intentions of either Mr. Dixon or Miss Fairfax, but I cannot help suspecting either that, after making his proposals to her friend, he had the misfortune to fall in love with her, or that he became conscious of a little attachment on her side.  One might guess