ys! one, generous and gentle, as well as brave: who had fought for her,
had thought of her tenderly, was with her now, having raised her to his
level with a touch! How much might they not accomplish together: he with
sword, she with harp? Through shadowy alleys in the clouds, Emilia saw
the bright Italian plains opening out to her: the cities of marble, such
as her imagination had fashioned them, porticos of stately palaces, and
towers, and statues white among cypresses; and farther, minutely-radiant
in the vista as a shining star, Venice of the sea. Fancy made the flying
minutes hours. Now they marched with the regiments of Italy, under the
folds of her free banner; now she sang to the victorious army, waving the
banner over them; and now she floated in a gondola, and turning to him,
the dear home of her heart, yet pale with the bleeding of his wound for
Italy, said softly, in the tone that had power with him, "Only let me
please you!"

"When? Where? What with?" came the blunt response from England, with
electric speed, and Emilia fell from the clouds.

"I meant my singing; I thought of how I sang to you. Oh, happy time!" she
exclaimed, to cut through the mist of vision in her mind.

"To me? down at the booth?" muttered Wilfrid, perplexed.

"Oh, no! I mean, just now--" and languid with the burden of so full a
heart, she did not attempt to explain herself further, though he said,
invitingly, "I thought I heard you humming?"

Then he was seized with a desire to have the force of her spirit upon
him, for Brookfield was in view; and with the sight of Brookfield, the
natural fascination waxed a shade fainter, and he feared it might be
going. This (he was happily as ignorant as any other youth of the working
of his machinery) prompted him to bid her sing before they parted. Emilia
checked her steps at once to do as he desired. Her throat filled, but the
voice quavered down again, like a fainting creature sick unto death. She
made another effort and ended with a sorrowful look at his
narrowly-watching eyes.

"I can't," she said; and, in fear of his anger, took his hand to beg
forgiveness, while her eyelids drooped.

Wilfrid locked her fingers in a strong pressure, and walked on, silent as
a man who has faced one of the veiled mysteries of life. It struck a full
human blow on his heart, dragging him out of his sentimental pastures
precipitately. He felt her fainting voice to be the intensest love-cry
that could be utter