for they met every morning, and hardly ever spent an evening asunder;
but she believed they should not have done so well without the sight
of Mr and Mrs Musgrove's respectable forms in the usual places,
or without the talking, laughing, and singing of their daughters.

She played a great deal better than either of the Miss Musgroves,
but having no voice, no knowledge of the harp, and no fond parents,
to sit by and fancy themselves delighted, her performance was
little thought of, only out of civility, or to refresh the others,
as she was well aware. She knew that when she played she was
giving pleasure only to herself; but this was no new sensation.
Excepting one short period of her life, she had never, since the age
of fourteen, never since the loss of her dear mother, known the happiness
of being listened to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real taste.
In music she had been always used to feel alone in the world;
and Mr and Mrs Musgrove's fond partiality for their own daughters'
performance, and total indifference to any other person's,
gave her much more pleasure for their sakes, than mortification
for her own.

The party at the Great House was sometimes increased by other company.
The neighbourhood was not large, but the Musgroves were visited
by everybody, and had more dinner-parties, and more callers,
more visitors by invitation and by chance, than any other family.
There were more completely popular.

The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings ended, occasionally,
in an unpremeditated little ball. There was a family of cousins
within a walk of Uppercross, in less affluent circumstances,
who depended on the Musgroves for all their pleasures: they would come