It was a simple piece, which did not demand exertion. She did not care what to play. "They cannot distinguish 'Home, Sweet Home' from 'Auld Lang Syne,'" she thought. Besides, they were not half listening; why should she give them good music.
She felt like the painter, who, having completed a real work of art, refuses to exhibit it to the public, on the ground that it is a profane thing to exhibit it to the gaze of unartistic eyes.
When she had finished playing, Tom looked at her. "That's capital music," he said, assuming the air of a connoisseur, then he added: "I s'pose you practice a good bit."
"The grin," thought Adèle, "it's awful; and his eyes resemble those of a wild cat. I wonder if he has a soul; if it shines through those eyes, it cannot be spotless;" then, recollecting herself, she said: "I have been practising now for ten years."
"No wonder you can rattle it," was the rejoinder.
Now Tom was not half so ugly as Adèle imagined him to be. Indeed, he looked well enough this evening, for he had come on purpose to exhibit himself, and was as a matter of fact as well dressed up as he could. His manners were not refined, but they were not absolutely rude.
But the girl, whose whole being revolted against this scheme of her father's fabrication, felt naturally indignant and could not help exaggerating his faults.
She felt greatly relieved when her father told her to prepare the supper.
It may here be noted that Mr. Rougeant had now altogether dispensed with his Breton servant. Now that Adèle was growing up, a servant was altogether superfluous, he said. The truth was that this enabled him to save a few pounds every year.
When the table was laid, the three sat down to supper. It being over, the two men returned to the parlour. Adèle was a long, very long time in putting away the supper things.
Her father noticed this, and when she entered the parlour, he remarked: "You've been long enough."
"Provided she has not been too long," put in his nephew, trying to win his cousin's good will.
After one of the most miserable evenings that Adèle had ever spent, Tom took leave of the family.
When he was fairly out of the way, Adèle ventured to ask her father what he had come for.
"He came to see us," he replied, then, after a pause, he added abruptly: "Have you ever thought of marrying?"