She bowed and retired as the pent up emotions of her audience had
given way; exclamations of praise and enthusiasm greeted her on every
side.
She deserved all this and more, if it were possible to give it to her.
I had been enraptured myself over her singing, but still I could not
see the necessity or appropriateness of Arthur Campbell's prolonged
ecstacy. I began to think it was affected, and turned away from him to
talk to a little lady with gold-rimmed spectacles who sat quietly on
the other side of me.
When I addressed her she raised her glasses and wiped her eyes with a
dainty lace handkerchief.
"Very beautiful, was it not?" I said, for want of something more
appropriate.
"Ah! mon Dieu! oui!" she exclaimed warmly, and then proceeded to tell
me in very broken English that "Mees Alice" was the pupil of her
deceased sister, who had come from France some years before and had
undertaken the vocal instruction of _haut ton_ young ladies, in order
to save their aged mother from a destitution which threatened her,
owing to some heavy reverses which had befallen them in their native
land.
I was outwardly very sympathetic as she recited these melancholy
details. She did not suspect, poor thing, what an effort I was obliged
to make to keep track of her subject at all, and I was conscious of
having won her kind favor under false pretences. Before she could
pursue her pet topic to any fuller advantage, however, the music began
again and our newly made friendship was effectually nipped in the bud.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123