fingers
for playing. I knew that. He had great hopes of me. He said he would give
me a box at the Opera, now and then. I was mad with joy; and so delighted
to have made a friend. I had never before made a rich friend. I sang to
him in the park. His eyes looked beautiful with pleasure. I know I
enchanted him."

"How old were you then?" inquired Wilfrid.

"Sixteen. I can sing better now, I know; but I had voice then, and he
felt that I had. I forgot where we were, till people stood round us, and
he hurried me away from them, and said I must sing to him in some quiet
place. I promised to, and he promised he would have dinner for me at
Richmond Hill, in the country, and he would bring friends to hear me."

"Go on," said Wilfrid, rather sharply.

She sighed. "I only saw him once after that. It was such a miserable day!
It rained. It was Saturday. I did not expect to find him in the rain; but
there he stood, exactly where he had given me the handkerchief. He smiled
kindly, as I came up. I dislike gloomy people! His face was always fresh
and nice. His moustache reminded me of Italy. I used to think of him
under a great warm sky, with olives and vine-trees and mulberries like my
father used to speak of. I could have flung my arms about his neck."

"Did you?" The cornet gave a strangled note.

"Oh, no!" said Emilia seriously. "But I told him how happy the thought of
going into the country made me, and that it was almost like going to
Italy. He told me he would take me to Italy, if I liked. I could have
knelt at his feet. Unfortunately his friends could not come. Still, I was
to go, and dine, and float on the water, plucking flowers. I determined
to fancy myself in Venice, which is the place my husband must take me to,
when I am married to him. I will give him my whole body and soul for his
love, when I am there!"

Here the cornet was capable of articulate music for a moment, but it
resolved itself into: "Well, well! Yes, go on!"

"I took his arm this time. It gave me my first timid feeling that I
remember, and he laughed at me, and drove it quite away, telling me his
name: Augustus Frederick what was it? Augustus Frederick--it began with G
something. O me! have I really forgotten? Christian names are always
easier to remember. A captain he was--a riding one; just like you. I
think you are all kind!"

"Extremely," muttered the ironical cornet. "A.F.G.;--those are the
initials on the handkerchief!"

"They are!" cried