dear by Italian songsters, though every jackal in India delivers them
gratis to his customers all night, and sometimes gets shot for them, and
always deserves it--so there were no cadences and fiorituri, the trite,
turgid, and feeble expletives of song, the skim-milk with which mindless
musicians and mindless writers quench fire, wash out colour, and drown
melody and meaning dead.

While the pure and tender strain was flowing from the pure young throat,
Gerard's eyes filled. The Countess watched him with interest, for it
was usual to applaud the Princess loudly, but not with cheek and eye.
So when the voice ceased, and the glasses left off ringing, she asked
demurely, "Was he content?"

Gerard gave a little start; the spoken voice broke a charm and brought
him back to earth.

"Oh, madam!" he cried, "surely it is thus that cherubs and seraphs sing,
and charm the saints in heaven."

"I am somewhat of your opinion, my young friend," said the Countess,
with emotion; and she bent a look of love and gentle pride upon her
girl: a heavenly look, such as, they say, is given to the eye of the
short-lived resting on the short-lived.

The Countess resumed: "My old friend request me to be serviceable to
you. It is the first favour she has done us the honour of asking us, and
the request is sacred. You are in holy orders, sir?"

Gerard bowed.