'Never mind now, my love, pray be quiet, my dear boy,' said Mrs.
Woodbourne imploringly; and Edward, who was really a very tractable
boy, walked off to his sister Katherine.

Mrs. Dale then seized upon Mrs. Woodbourne, to tell her some horrible
stories of hydrophobia; and Elizabeth, in hopes of lessening the
impression such stories were likely to make on Mrs. Woodbourne's
mind, listened also, sometimes not very courteously correcting
evident exaggerations, and at others contradicting certain
statements. At last, just as the subject, fertile as it was, was
exhausted, Anne's going to the piano, and carrying off a train of
listeners, brought Mrs. Bouverie next to Elizabeth, and she took the
opportunity of entering into conversation with her.

'Do you play, Miss Woodbourne?'

'No, I do not,' replied Elizabeth, who particularly disliked this
mode of beginning a conversation.

'Do not you like music?' continued Mrs. Bouverie.

'I seldom have heard any I liked,' said Elizabeth shortly.

'Indeed you have been unfortunate,' said Mrs. Bouverie; 'but perhaps
you are not fond of the piano?'

'No,' said Elizabeth, with rather less of the manner of a suspected
criminal examined in sight of the rack; 'I am sick of all the
Abbeychurch pianos; I know them all perfectly, and hear nothing