"Why don't you take the chamber jinin' the young ladies? that ain't
haunted," said she, when they sent for her to help move the piano.
"Miss Margaret won't thank you for scattern' her things."

"You've nothing to do with Lenora," said Mrs. Hamilton; "you've only
to attend to your own matters."

"Wonder then what I'm up here for a-h'istin this pianner," muttered
Polly. "This ain't my matters, sartin'."

When Mr. Hamilton came in to dinner he was shown the little room with
its single bed, tiny bureau, silken lounge and easy chair, of which
the last two were Mag's especial property.

"All very nice," said he, "but where is Mag's piano?"

"In the parlor," answered his wife. "People often ask for music, and
it is more convenient to have it there than to come across the hall
and through the sitting-room."

Mr. Hamilton said nothing, but he secretly wished Mag's rights had not
been invaded quite so soon. His wife must have guessed as much; for,
laying her hand on his, she, with the utmost deference, offered to
undo all she had done, if it did not please him.

"Certainly not--certainly not; it does please me," said he; while
Polly, who stood on the cellar stairs listening, exclaimed, "What a
fool a woman can make of a man!"