"I want you all to be in a very good humour, before I begin" she said
coquettishly, "for I will try your patience very hard, yours
especially, Dr. Campbell," she added, looking at him now for the first
time, "you are such a merciless critic--a perfect epicure in music."
He smiled languidly at her, and swept a glance over her from head to
foot.
"Is it any wonder" he asked lazily; "when you spoil us by feasting us
with the perfection of every sort of loveliness, what else can you
expect?"
She touched him smartly on the nose with a roll of music she held in
her hand--for they were old friends--and flitted away, saying:
"It is a good thing that I have never had any faith in men of your
profession."
He looked after her in undisguised, ardent admiration. I saw it, and
if I remember well, a vague wish was creeping into my heart at the
time, that I had been as lithe and fair a creature as Alice Merivale.
Before I had dwelt much upon it however, silence was again restored
and our charming hostess had appeared before us.
Low and sweet, the first thrilling notes came from her swan-like
throat; then a strain of violin accompaniment and loud chords from the
piano, and she broke forth into a passionate refrain that held her
listeners spell-bound.
I had ceased to look at her, and was busy watching the expression on
Arthur Campbell's face. It was one of profound admiration. His eyes
were riveted upon her with a devouring look, he was lost to every
surrounding, dead to every influence for the time being but the magic
power of this beautiful voice that trembled in the scented air and
died away into a musical whisper.
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