ich, full voice swelled forth in one of the
popular airs of Verdi, but with a degree of ease and freedom that
showed the singer soared very far indeed above the pretensions of mere
amateurship.

"Wasn't I right, sir?" asked the waiter, triumphantly. "You'll not hear
anything better at the Grand Opera."

"Send me up some hot water, and open that portmanteau," said Beecher,
while he walked on towards the door of the salon. He hesitated for a
second or two about then presenting himself; but as he thought of Grog
Davis, and what Grog Davis's daughter must be like, he turned the handle
and entered.

A lady rose from the piano as the door opened, and even in the
half-darkened room Beecher could perceive that she was graceful, and
with an elegance in her gesture for which he was in no wise prepared.

"Have I the honor to address Miss Davis?"

"You are Mr. Annesley Beecher, the gentleman my papa has been
expecting," said she, with an easy smile. "He has just gone off to meet
you."

Nothing could be more commonplace than these words, but they were
uttered in a way that at once declared the breeding of the speaker. She
spoke to a friend of her father, and there was a tone of one who felt
that even in a first meeting a certain amount of intimacy might subsist
between them.

"It's very strange," said Beecher, "but your father and I have been
friends this many a year--close friends too--and I never as much as
suspected he had a daughter. What a shame of him not to have given me
the pleasure of knowing you before!"

"It was a pleasure he was chary enough of to himself," said she,
laughing. "I have been at school nearly four years, and have only seen
him once, and then for a few hours."

"Yes--but really," stammered out Beecher, "fascinations--charms such
as--"

"Pray, sir, don't distress yourself about turning a compliment. I'm
quite sure I'm very attractive, but I don't in the least want to be told
so. You see," she added, after a pause, "I 'm presuming upon what papa
has told me of your old friendship to be very frank with you."

"I am enchanted at it," cried Beecher. "Egad! if you. 'cut out all the
work,' though, I 'll scarcely be able to follow you."

"Ah! so here you are before me," cried Davis, entering and shaking his
hand cordially. "You had just driven off when I reached the station. All
right, I hope?"

"All right, thank you."

"You 've made Lizzy's acquaintance, I see, so I need n't introduce you.
_She_