Miss Dunkirk clapped her hands together as she looked at it and then the next. “Oh! Dear, how beautiful these are! Do but look, Edmund, how sweet! I adore art, but I have not the slightest skill in it myself.”

“That is because you do not apply yourself, Beth. It is but a matter of practice, truly.”

An odd expression crossed Miss Dunkirk’s face and she lowered her head as though she had been reprimanded.

“Your efforts are well worth the time which you have spent upon them.” Mr. Dunkirk strolled across the room, studying each painting with an attention that surprized Jane. “These accomplishments are what make a home comfortable.”

Melody said, “I thought that a home was made comfortable by those who live in it and their regard for one another.”

“This is true, Miss Melody, but if one presumes the affection which should be in all homes, then those homes which are most comfortable are also those which possess an understanding and appreciation for the arts.”

Melody flushed as though she had received a rebuke. Mr. Dunkirk was still studying a painting and did not see the red spots appear on Melody’s cheeks, though if he had, he would undoubtedly have thought her all the more beautiful. Jane kept silent, not wanting to add to her sister’s discomfort, but neither did she want to end it. Though she knew it was unjust, Jane could not help resenting her sister for her very presence.

Their mother had no such compunctions about holding her tongue. “Jane’s painting is nothing compared to her glamour. She is so terribly clever at weaving music and glamour together. Why don’t you play something for us, Jane?”

Horrified at her mother’s proposal, Jane demurred. “I’m certain that Mr. Dunkirk and his sister do not want to spend their leisure time listening to me.”

“Oh, but I do, Miss Ellsworth.” Miss Dunkirk spun. “Truly I do. Edmund has said so much about your skills, and I very much want to experience them for myself. Just the small hint I see from your efforts here has made me hungry for more.”

Jane attempted to demur again, though her attention was caught by the fact that Miss Dunkirk had said that Mr. Dunkirk had spoken of her. But surely it was not unusual for a brother to give an accounting of his neighbours. And as glamour could be said to be the only distinction which Jane possessed, of course it is what he would have mentioned to his sister.

Such was Miss Dunkirk’s insistence, soon joined by her brother’s, that Jane found herself seated at the pianoforte. Jane began to play a simple gavotte. As the music poured from the pianoforte, she stroked folds of glamour into being, suggesting a forest clearing with a faun gamboling in the afternoon sun. It was no large matter to add a few birds flitting over his head with the high notes of the tune.

When that song ended, Miss Dunkirk burst into rapturous applause, begging for another. So great was the girl’s approbation that Jane began a rondo and suggested figures of nymphs dancing around them in time with the music. These were not as fully rendered as the glamour that adorned their walls, since it required much effort to produce a moving image extemporaneously while she played, but the effect was nonetheless pleasing.