Part 79 (1/2)
”I am sorry I disappointed any pleasant antic.i.p.ations you indulged with reference to the organ, which has certainly been a source of much comfort to me. I have felt very timid about singing before you, sir; but if it will afford you the least pleasure, I am willing to do the best of which I am capable.”
”You sang quite successfully before a large audience at Mrs.
Brompton's, and displayed sufficient self-possession.”
”But those were strangers, and the opinion of those with whom we live is more important, their criticism is more embarra.s.sing.”
”I believe I was present, and heard you on that occasion.”
She moved away to the organ, and sat down, glad of an excuse, for her limbs trembled.
”Regina, what was that song you sang for little Llora Carew the night before she left us? Indeed there were two, one with the other without an accompaniment?”
”You were not here at that time.”
”No matter; what were they? The child fancies them exceedingly, and I promised to get the words for her.”
”Kucken's 'Schlummerlied,' and a little 'Cradle Song' by Wallace.”
”Be so good as to let me hear them.”
Would Mrs. Carew sing them for him when she was far away, utterly forgotten by her guardian? The thought was unutterably bitter, and it goaded her, aided her in the ordeal.
With nerves strung to their extreme tension, she sang as he requested, and all the while her rich mellow voice rolled through the room, he walked very slowly from one end of the library to the other.
She forced herself to sing every verse, and when she concluded he was standing behind her chair. He put his hands on her shoulders, and prevented her rising, for just then he was unwilling she should see his countenance, which he feared would betray the suffering he was resolved to conceal.
After a moment, he said:
”Thank you. I shall buy the music in order to secure the words.
Lily----”
He paused, bent down, and rested his chin on the large coil of hair at the back of her head, and though she never knew it his proud lips touched the glossy silken ma.s.s.
”Lily, if I ask a foolish trifle of you, will you grant it, as a farewell gift to your guardian?”
”I think, sir, you do not doubt that I will.”
”It is a trivial thing, and will cost you nothing. The night on which you sang those songs to Llora is a.s.sociated with something which I treasure as peculiarly precious; and I merely wish to request that you will never sing them again for any one unless I give you permission.”
Swiftly she recalled the fact that on that particular evening he had escorted Mrs. Carew to a ”German” at Mrs. Quimbey's, and she explained his request by the supposition that her songs to Mrs.
Carew's child commemorated the date of his betrothal to the grey-eyed mother. Could she bear even to think of them in coming years?
She hastily pushed back the ivory stops, and shaking off his detaining palms, rose:
”I am sorry that I cannot do something of more importance to oblige my kind guardian; for this trifle involves not the slightest sacrifice of feeling, and I would gladly improve a better opportunity of attesting my grat.i.tude. You may rest a.s.sured I shall never sing those words again under any circ.u.mstances. Do not buy the music; I will leave my copies for Llora, and you and her mother can easily teach her the words.”
”Thanks! You will please place the music on the organ, and when I come back from Cincinnati it will remind me. I hope your mother will be pleased with you progress in French German, and music. Your teachers furnish very flattering reports, and I have enclosed them with some receipts, bills, and other valuable papers in this large sealed envelope, which you must give to your mother as soon as you see her.”
He went to his desk, took out the package, and handed it to her.