ong before he knew that
Emilia's voice was in the air.

In such a place, at such a time, there is no wizardry like a woman's
voice. Emilia had gained in force and fulness. She sang with a stately
fervour, letting the notes flow from her breast, while both her arms hung
loose, and not a gesture escaped her. Tracy's fiery imagination set him
throbbing, as to the voice of the verified spirit of the place. He heard
nothing but Emilia, and scarce felt that it was she, or that tears were
on his eyelids, till her voice sank richly, deep into the bosom of the
woods. Then the stillness, like one folding up a precious jewel, seemed
to pant audibly.

"She's not alone!" This was human speech at his elbow, uttered in some
stupefied amazement. In an extremity of wrath, Tracy turned about to
curse the intruder, and discerned Wilfrid, eagerly bent forward on the
other side of the oak by which he leaned. Advancing toward Emilia, two
figures were seen. Mr. Pericles in his bearskin was easily to be
distinguished. His companion was Laura Tinley. The Greek moved at rapid
strides, and coming near upon Emilia, raised his hands as in exclamation.
At once he disencumbered his shoulders of the enormous wrapper, held it
aloft imperiously, and by main force extinguished Emilia. Laura's shrill
laugh resounded.

"Oh! beastly bathos!" Tracy groaned in his heart. "Here we are down in
Avernus in a twinkling!"

There was evidently quick talk going on among the three, after which
Emilia, heavily weighted, walked a little apart with Mr. Pericles, who
looked lean and lank beside her, and gesticulated in his wildest manner.
Tracy glanced about for Wilfrid. The latter was not visible, but,
stepping up the bank of sand and moss, appeared a lady in shawl and hat,
in whom he recognized Lady Charlotte. He went up to her and saluted.

"Ah! Tracy," she said. "I saw you leave the drawing room, and expected to
find you here. So, the little woman has got her voice again; but why on
earth couldn't she make the display at Richford? It's very pretty, and I
dare say you highly approve of this kind of romantic interlude, Signor
Poet, but it strikes me as being rather senseless."

"But, are you alone? What on earth brings you here?" asked Tracy.

"Oh!" the lady shrugged. "I've a guard to the rear. I told her I would
come. She said I should hear something to-night, if I did. I fancied
naturally the appointment had to do with her voice, and wished to please
her. It's