The Rosary

gramme is in course of performance, after which the duchess explains Velma's laryngitis-

soft light of the hanging Chinese lanterns. The crimson rambler in his button-hole, and his red silk socks, w

ble depths of her wicker chair;

walked beside him. "Has it gone well

herself. It has been funnier than usual. But now comes

play it from memory. It obviat

screens and a curtain, close to the half-dozen st

like anything. There! APPENDICITIS! I told you so. Poor Madame Velma! Let us hope it won't get into the local papers. Oh, goodness! She is going to enlarge on new-fangled diseases. Well, it gives us a moment's breathing space.... I say, Miss Champion, I was chaffing this afternoon about sharps and fl

old lace at her bosom and one string of pearls round her neck. When she appeared, the audience gazed at her and applauded doubtfully. Velma's name on the programme had raised great expectations; and here was Miss Champion, who certainly played very nicely, but was not supposed to b

glanced at the festoons of white roses and the cross of crimson ramblers; then

t voice thrilled

ess hush fell up

et, that casual hearts stood still and marvelled at their own emotion; and those who

spent with th

tring of p

m over, ev'

ry,-my

d into the silence, holding a world of reminiscence-a large-hea

g. This was the throbbing of a heart; and it throbbed i

he opening lines so quietly, rose in

pearl, each p

heart in ab

ead unto the

ss is

tension of feeling produced. But in another moment the quiet voice fell soothingly, expressing a strength of endurance which would fail in no

s that ble

ain and bi

d, and strive a

ross ... to k

ngering retrospection in each word; breathed out a love so womanly, so beautiful, so tender, that her ident

pens with a single chord,

esitated, paused, looked at her aunt's guests as if almost surprised to find them there. Then the slow smile dawned in her eyes and passed to her lips. She stood in the

creens and curtains, a fresh surprise awaited Jane, mor

hone out from it like burning stars. He remained motionless until she stepped from the last stair an

te astonishment. "Go back at once and sing it all over again, note for note, word for word, just as

she quietly mounted the steps and walked across the platform to the piano. People were still applauding, and redoubled

nd out that they could only obtain their desires by means of carefully worded requests, or pathetic appeals to her good feelings and sense of right. An unreasonable order, or a reason

swung her round, ordered her up the stairs, and commanded her to sing a son

ad many finer songs in her repertoire. The audience expected another. Why should she dis

e been so moved as to forget even momentarily his punctilious courtesy of manner, was the highest possible tribute to her art and to her song. While she played the Handel theme-and played it so that a whole orchestra seemed marshalled upon the key-board under those strong, firm finger-she suddenly realised, t

spent with th

tring of p

m over, ev'

ry,-my

pearl, each p

heart in ab

ead unto the

ss is

s that ble

ain and bi

d, and strive a

ross ... to k

idding, without a word of question or remonstrance. A wonderful light now shone in them; a light of adoration, which touched Jane's heart because she had never before seen anything quite like it. She smiled as she came sl

in a low voice, vibrant with emoti

ver like to hear that na

e for me to-night. 'Every perfect gift is from above.' When words fai

es, and a smile of pleasure illumined he

a shade of perplexity crossing his face.

ing demonstration?" in

y low, "you lifted the vei

them gently over and, bending, kissed each palm with an indescribably tender reveren