Part 48 (2/2)
”Ask Miss Dupres to sing, will you?”
He looked at her curiously an instant, then turned away and persuaded the little beauty to sing.
She took her seat, and ran her jeweled fingers over the pearl keys with an air which very clearly denoted her opinion, of her musical proficiency.
”Well, sir, what will you have?”
”That favorite morceau from 'Linda.'”
”You have never heard it, I suppose,” said she, glancing over her shoulder at the young teacher.
”Yes; I have heard it,” answered Beulah, who could with difficulty repress a smile.
Antoinette half shrugged her shoulders, as if she thought the statement questionable, and began the song. Beulah listened attentively; she was conscious of feeling more than ordinary interest in this performance, and almost held her breath as the clear, silvery voice caroled through the most intricate pa.s.sages.
Antoinette had been thoroughly trained, and certainly her voice was remarkably sweet and flexible; but as she concluded the piece and fixed her eyes complacently on Beulah, the latter lifted her head in proud consciousness of superiority.
”Sing me something else,” said she.
Antoinette bit her lips, and answered ungraciously:
”No; I shall have to sing to-night, and can't wear myself out.”
”Now, Beulah, I shall hear you. I have sought an opportunity ever since I returned.” Eugene spoke rather carelessly.
”Do you really wish to hear me, Eugene?”
”Of course I do,” said he, with some surprise.
”And so do I,” added Mrs. Graham, leaning against the piano, and exchanging glances with Antoinette.
Beulah looked up, and asked quietly:
”Eugene, shall I sing you a ballad? One of those simple old tunes we used to love so well in days gone by.”
”No, no. Something operatic!” cried Antoinette, without giving him an opportunity to reply.
”Well, then, Miss Dupres; select something.”
”Can't you favor us with 'Casta-Diva'?” returned the beauty,--with something very like a sneer.
Beulah's eyes gave a momentary flash; but by a powerful effort she curbed her anger and commenced the song.
It was amusing to mark the expression of utter astonishment which gradually overspread Antoinette's face, as the magnificent voice of her despised rival swelled in waves of entrancing melody through the lofty rooms. Eugene looked quite as much amazed. Beulah felt her triumph, and heartily enjoyed it. There was a sparkle in her eye and a proud smile on her lip, which she did not attempt to conceal. As she rose from the piano, Eugene caught her hand, and said eagerly:
”I never dreamed of your possessing such a voice. It is superb-- perfectly magnificent! Why did not you tell me of it before?”
”You heard it long ago, in the olden time,” said she, withdrawing her hand and looking steadily at him.
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