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 gratitude. You may rest assured I shall never sing
those words again under any circumstances. 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.
Seating himself at the table where she generally wrote and studied,
he pointed to a chair on the opposite side, and mechanically she sat
down.

"Perhaps you may recollect that some months ago, Mrs. Orme wrote me
she was particularly desirous you should be trained to read well. It
is a graceful accomplishment, especially for a lady, and I ordered a
professor of elocution to give you instruction twice a week. I hope
you have derived benefit from his tuition, as he has fitted one or
two professional readers for the stage, and I should dislike to have
your mother feel disappointed in any of your attainments. Now that I
am called upon to render an account of my stewardship, I trust you
will pardon me, if I examine you a little. Here is Jean Ingelow,
close at hand, and I must trouble you to allow me an opportunity of
testing your proficiency."

The book which she had been reading that day lay on the table, and
taking it up he leisurely turned over the leaves. A premonitory dread
seized her, and she wrung her hands, which were lying cold in her
lap.