eanor twisted round on her stool and surveyed her aunt, or rather, the
lady who thought she was her aunt, with an amused smile. All of a sudden
a complete change had come over her demeanour. The neighbourhood of a
piano always seemed to give Eleanor confidence, and now her shyness and
awkwardness fell away from her, and she twisted round on the music stool
and surveyed her quondam aunt with an amused smile. It pleased her to
delay her inevitable triumph for a moment or two, even to pose as a vain,
silly schoolgirl.

"I really sing very well," she said; "though I can see that you do not
believe it."

"Let me hear you," said Lady Strangways encouragingly, "and then I can
tell you what I think. Do not be too shy to sing your best."

"I am never shy when I am singing," said Eleanor. "Why should I be? I am
proud of my beautiful voice. No young, coming-on singer has a voice like
it; in a few years, with proper training and hard work, I shall rank with
Melba and Tetrazzini."

Lady Strangways gave a little gasp.

"You have not a very modest opinion of yourself, my dear," she could not
refrain from saying, as she eyed her niece rather curiously.

"Of myself I have a very modest opinion," returned Eleanor. "I know my
own faults, and some of them are pretty bad, as you will say one day,
perhaps, but there is no fault to be found with my voice--none--except
that, of course, it is not trained yet; but it would be too absurd for me
to be mock modest about it as though its beauty were something that I
could plume myself on. It is a gift--a glorious gift--and I love it and
worship it."

Eleanor made a striking picture as she sat there with her hands folded in
her lap, while the sun, pouring in from a small west window set high in
the wall, turned her red-brown hair to gold. Lady Strangways surveyed
her with an ever deepening amazement. This niece, with her brilliant
colouring and her excited, vivacious manner, was very unlike the girl she
had imagined her niece would be; very different, also, to the shy,
awkward girl she had been a few minutes back.

As Eleanor gave utterance to her impassioned speech, the slightly mocking
smile with which she had been eyeing Lady Strangways died away, and was
replaced by an earnest, rapt look, which showed to her listener how
seriously she herself took every word she was saying.

Then Eleanor turned to the piano and ran her fingers lightly over the
keys. Lady Strangways nodded approvingly, a