when he got to the side, he looked back to her, and made her a signal that his nose was bleeding, but it was of no great consequence. He even pointed with his finger out and then back again, indicating he should not be long gone. This reassured her greatly; for she had always been told a little bleeding of that sort was good for hot-headed young people. Then the singer took complete hold of her. The composer, to balance the delightful part of "Marguerite," has given "Siebel" a melody, with which wonders can be done; and the Klosking had made a considerable reserve of her powers for this crowning effort. After a recitative that rivalled the silver trumpet, she flung herself with immediate and electrifying ardour into the melody; the orchestra, taken by surprise fought feebly for the old ripple, but the Klosking, resolute by nature, was now mighty as Neptune, and would have her big waves. The momentary struggle, in which she was loyally seconded by the conductor, evoked her grand powers. Catgut had to yield to brains, and the whole orchestra, composed, after all, of good musicians, soon caught the divine afflatus, and the little theatre seemed on fire with music: the air, sung with a large rhythm, swelled and rose, and thrilled every breast with amazement and delight; the house hung breathless; by-andby there were pale cheeks, panting bosoms, and wet eyes, the true, rare triumphs of the sovereigns of song; and, when the last note had pealed and ceased to vibrate, the pent-up feelings broke forth in a roar of applause, which shook the dome, followed by a clapping of hands like a salvo, that never stopped till Ina Klosking, who had retired, came forward again. She curtsied with admirable dignity, modesty, and respectful gravity, and the applause thundered, and people rose at her in clusters about the house, and waved their hats and handkerchiefs at her, and a little Italian recognised her, and cried out as loud as he could, "Vivat la Klosking, vivat!" and she heard that, and it gave her a thrill; and Zoe Vizard, being out of England, and therefore brave as a lioness, stood boldly up at her full height, and taking her bouquet in the right hand, carried it swiftly to her left ear, and so flung it, with a free backhanded sweep more oriental than English, into the air, and it lighted by the singer; and she saw the noble motion, and the bouquet fly, and, when she made her last curtsy at the wing, she fixed her eyes on Zoe, and then putting her hand to her heart with a most touching gesture, that said, "Most of all I value your bouquet and your praise." Then the house buzzed, and ranks were levelled; little people spoke to big people, and big to little, in mutual congratulation; for at such rare moments (except in AngloSaxony) instinct seems to tell men that true art is a sunshine of the soul, and blesses the rich and the poor alike. One person was affected in another way. Harrington Vizard sat wrapt in attention, and never took his eyes off her, yet said not a word. Several Russian and Prussian grandees sought an introduction to the new singer; but she pleaded fatigue. The manager entreated her to sup with him, and meet the Grand Duke of Hesse. She said she had a prior engagement. She went quietly home, and supped with her faithful Ashmead, and very heartily too; for nature was exhausted, and agitation had quite spoiled her dinner. Joseph Ashmead, in the pride of his heart, proposed a bottle of champagne. The Queen of Song, with triumph flushed, looked rather blue at that. "My friend," said she, in a meek, deprecating way, "we are working people; is not bordeaux good enough for us?" "Yes; but it is not good enough for the occasion," said Joseph, a little testily. "Well, never mind;" and he muttered to himself, "that is the worst of good women; they are so terribly stingy." The Queen of Song, with triumph flushed, did not catch these words, but only a little growling. However, as supper proceeded, she became uneasy. So she rang the bell, and ordered a pint of this she drank one spoonful. The remainder, co operating with triumph and claret, kept Ashmead in a great flow of spirits. He traced her a brilliant career. To be photographed to-morrow morning as "Siebel," and in plain dress. Paragraphs in Era, Figaro, Galignani, Independance Belge, aud the leading dailies. Large woodcuts before leaving Homburg, for Paris, London, Vienna, Petersburg, and New York." "I'm in your hands," said she, and smiled languidly, to please him. But by-and-by he looked at her, and fourd she was taking a little cry all to herself. "Dear me !" said he; "what is the matter?" He was "My friend, forgive me. CHAPTER IV. As the opera drew to an end, Zoe began to look round more and more for Severne; but he did not come, and Lord Uxmoor offered his arm earnestly. She took it: but hung back a moment on his very arm, to tell Harrington Mr. Severne had been taken ill. At the railway station the truant emerged suddenly, just as the train was leaving; but Lord Uxmoor had secured three seats, and the defaulter had to go with Harrington. On reaching the hotel the ladies took their bed-candles; but Uxmoor found time to propose an excursion next day, Sunday, to a lovey little lake-open carriage, four horses. The young ladies accepted, but Mr. Severne declined; he thanked Lord Uxmoor politely, but he had arrears of correspondence. Zoe cast a mortified, and rather a haughty glance on him; and Fanny shrugged her shoulders incredulously. These two ladies brushed hair together in Zoe's room. That is a soothing operation, my masters, and famous for stimulating females to friendly gossip; but this time there was, for once, a guarded reserve. Zoe was irritated, puzzled, mortified, and even grieved, by Severne's conduct. Fanny was gnawed by jealousy, and out of temper. She had forgiven Zoe Ned Severne. But that young lady was insatible; Lord Uxmoor, too, had fallen openly in love with her; openly to a female eye: so then a blonde had no chance, with a dark girl by: thus reasoned she, and it was intolerable. It was some time before either spoke an atom of what was uppermost in her mind. They each doled out a hundred sentences that missed the mind and mingled readily with the atmosphere, being in fact mere preliminary and idle air: so two deer, in duel, go about and about, and even affect to look another way, till they are ripe for collision. There be writers would give the reader all the preliminary puffs of articulated wind, and everybody would say, "How clever! That is just the way girls really talk." But I leave the glory of photographing nullities to the geniuses of the age, and run to the first words which could, without impiety, be called dialogue. 66 Don't you think his conduct a little mysterious?" said Zoe, mal apropos of anything that had been said hitherto. "Well, yes; rather," said Fanny, with marked carelessness. "First, a sick friend; then a bleeding at the nose; and now he won't drive to the lake with us: arrears of correspondence? Pooh!" Now Fanny's suspicions were deeper than Zoe's; she had observed Severne keenly: but it was not her cue to speak; she yawned, and said, "What does it matter?" "Don't be unkind. It matters to me." that are not content with one. You forget how poor Harrington would miss your attentions. He would begin to appreciate them-when he had lost them." This stung, and Fanny turned white and red by turns. "I deserve this," said she, "for wasting advice on a coquet." "That is not true; I'm no coquet and here I am, asking your advice, and you only snub me. You are a jealous, cross, unreasonable thing." "Well, I'm not a hypocrite." "I never was called so before," said Zoe, nobly and gently. "Then you were not found out, that is all. You look so simple and ingenuous, and blush if a man says half a word to you; and all the time you are a greater flirt than I am." "Oh, Fanny!" screamed Zoe, with horror. It seems a repartee may be conveyed in a scream; for Fanny now lost her temper altogether. "Your "Not it. You have another conduct with those two men is ready." "What other? There is no one that I-Fanny." "Oh, nonsense! The man is evidently smitten, and you keep encouraging him." "No, I don't; I am barely civil. And don't be ill-natured. What can I do?" Why, be content with one at a time." "It is very rude to talk so. Besides, I haven't got one, much less two. I begin to doubt him; and, Lord Uxmoor! you know I cannot possibly care for him-an acquaintance of yesterday." "But you know all about him; that he is an excellent parti," said Fanny, with a provoking sneer. This was not to be borne. "Oh," said Zoe, "I see! you want him for yourself. It is you abominable," said she. "I won't speak to you any more. "I beg you will not, in your present temper," said Zoe, with unaffected dignity, and rising like a Greek column. Fanny flounced out of the room. Zoe sat down and sighed, and her glorious eyes were dimmed. Mystery doubt and now a quarrel. What a day! At her age, a little cloud seems to darken the whole sky. Next morning the little party met at breakfast. Lord Uxmoor, anticipating a delightful day, was in high spirits, and he and Fanny kept up the ball. She had resolved, in the silent watches of the night, to contest him with Zoe, and make every possible use of Severne, in the conflict. Zoe was silent and distraite, and did not even try to compete with her sparkling rival. But Lord Uxmoor's eyes often wandered from his sprightly companion to Zoe, and it was plain he longed for a word from her mouth. Fanny observed, bit her lip, and tacked internally, "bout ship," as the sailors say. Her game now, conceived in a moment, and at once put in execution, was to encourage Uxmoor's attentions to Zoe. She began by openly courting Mr. Severne, to make Zoe talk to Uxmoor, and also make him think that Severne and she were the lovers. Her intentions were to utilise the coming excursion; she would attach herself to Harrington, and so drive Zoe and Uxmoor together; and then Lord Uxmoor, at his present rate of amorous advance, would probably lead Zoe to a detached rock, and make her a serious declaration. This good, artful, girl, felt sure such a declaration, made a few months hence in Barfordshire, would be accepted, and herself left in the cold. Therefore she resolved it should be made prematurely, and in Prussia, with Severne at hand, and so in all probability come to nothing. She even glimpsed a vista of consequences, and in that little avenue discerned the figure of Fanny Dover playing the part of consoler, friend, and ultimately spouse, to a wealthy noble. CHAPTER V. is brave and good of you. We poor, emotional, cowardly girls should sit down and cry." "You would not, Miss Vizard," said he, firmly, looking full at her. "If you think you would, you don't know yourself." Zoe coloured high, and was silent. Then Lord Uxmoor showed the true English gentleman. "I do hope," said he, earnestly, though in a somewhat broken voice, “that you will not let this spoil the pleasure we had planned together. Harrington will be my deputy." "Well, I don't know," said IIarrington, sympathisingly. Mr. Severne remarked, "Such an occurrence puts pleasure out of one's head." This he said, with his eyes on his plate, like one repeating a lesson. "Vizard, I entreat you," said Uxmoor, almost vexed. "It will only make me more unhappy you don't." if "We will go," cried Zoe, earnestly; we promise to go. What does it matter? We shall think of we are. you and your poor friend wherever And I shall pray for him. But, ah! I know how little prayers avail to avert these cruel bereavements." She was young, but old enough to have prayed hard for her sick mother's life, and, like the rest of us prayed in vain. At this remembrance the tears ran undisguised down her cheeks. The open sympathy of one so young and beautiful, and withal rather reserved, made Lord Uxmoor gulp; and, not to break down before them all, he blurted out that he must go and pack: with this he hurried away. He was unhappy. Besides the calamity he dreaded, it was grievous to be torn away from a woman he loved at first sight, and just when she had come out so worthy of his love she was a high-minded creature; she had been silent and reserved so long as the conversation was trivial; but, when trouble came, she was the one to speak to him bravely and kindly. Well, what must be, must. All this ran through his mind, and made him sigh; but it never occurred to him to shirk to telegraph instead of going-nor yet to value himself on his self-denial. They did not see him again till he was on the point of going, and then he took leave of them all, Zoe last. When he came to her, he ignored the others, except that he lowered his voice in speaking to her. "God bless you for your kindness, Miss Vizard. It is a little hard upon a fellow to have to run away from such an acquaintance, just when I have been so fortunate as to make it." "Hollo!" said he, looking from one flaming girl to the other; I to be a shuttlecock? and your discreet tongues the battledores? What is up 8" "We don't speak," said the frank Zoe; "that is up." 66 'Why, what is the row?" "No matter" (stiffly). "No great matter, I'll be bound. 'Toll, toll the bell.' Here goes one more immortal friendship-quenched in eternal silence." Both ladies bridled. Neither spoke. "And dead silence, as ladies understand it, consists in speaking at one another instead of to." No reply. "That is well-bred taciturnity." "The dignified reserve that distinguishes an estrangement from a squabble." No reply. "Well, I admire permanent sentiments, good or bad; constant resolves, &c. Your friendship has not proved immortal; so now let us see how long you can hold spite |