On the occasion of Lady Jane’s first visit to the d’Hautreve ladies, she had been so interested in Mam’selle Diane’s works of art that she had paid no attention whatever to the piano and the flowers.
But on the second visit, while Tony was posing as a model (for suddenly he had developed great perfection in that capacity), she critically examined the ancient instrument.
Presently she asked a little timidly, “Is that what you make music on when you sing, Mam’selle Diane?”
Mam’selle Diane nodded an affirmative. She was very busy modeling Tony’s leg in sealing-wax.
“Is it a piano?”
“Yes, my dear, it’s a piano. Did you never see one before?”
“Oh yes, and I’ve played on one. Mama used to let me play on hers; but it was large, very large, and not like this.”
“Where was that?” asked Mam’selle Diane, while a swift glance passed between her and her mother.
“Oh, that was on the ranch, before we came away.”
“Then you lived on a ranch. Where was it, my dear?”