how true she had struck, and seemed to swim on the pleasure she excited.
Once, as her voice dropped, she looked up at Captain Gambier, so very
archly, with the curving line of her bare throat, that Wilfrid was
dragged down from his cynical observatory, and made to feel as a common
man among them all.

At the "thrum-thrum" on the harp-strings, which wound up the song,
frenzied shouts were raised for a repetition. Emilia was perfectly
willing to gratify them; Captain Gambier appeared to be remonstrating
with her, but she put up her joined hands, mock-petitioningly, and he
with great affability held out the book anew. Wilfrid was thinking of
moving to her to take her forcibly away when she recommenced.

At the same instant--but who, knowing that a house of glass is about to
be shattered, can refrain from admiring its glitter in the beams?--Ipley
crooned a ready accompaniment: the sleepers had been awakened: the women
and the men were alive, half-dancing, half-chorusing here a baby was
tossed, and there an old fellow's elbow worked mutely, expressive of
the rollicking gaiety within him: the whole length of the booth was in
a pleasing simmer, ready to overboil with shouts humane and cheerful,
while Emilia pitched her note and led; archly, and quite one with them
all, and yet in a way that critical Wilfrid could not object to, so
plainly did she sing to give happiness.

I cannot delay; but I request you, that are here privileged to soar
aloft with the Muse, to fix your minds upon one point in this flight.
Let not the heat and dust of the ensuing fray divert your attention from
the magnanimity of Beer. It will be vindicated in the end but be worthy
of your seat beside the Muse, who alone of us all can take one view of
the inevitable two that perplex mortal judgements.

For, if Ipley had jumped jovially up, and met the Hillford alarum with
laughter,--how then? Why, then I maintain that the magnanimity of Beer
would have blazed effulgent on the spot: there would have been louder
laughter and fraternal greetings. As it was, the fire on the altar
of Wisdom was again kindled by Folly, and the steps to the altar were
broken heads, after the antique fashion.

In dismay, Ipley started. The members of the Club stared. Emilia
faltered in horror.

A moment her voice swam stemming the execrable concert, but it was
overwhelmed. Wilfrid pressed forward to her. They could hear nothing but
the din. The booth raged like an insurgent mena