hear _my_ singer."

Siebel and Marta came on from opposite sides of the stage. "See!" said
Zoe, "isn't she lovely?" and she turned her beaming face full on Severne,
to share her pleasure with him. To her amazement the man seemed
transformed: a dark cloud had come over his sunny countenance. He sat,
pale, and seemed to stare at the tall, majestic, dreamy singer, who stood
immovable, dressed like a velvet youth, yet looking like no earthly boy,
but a draped statue of Mercury,

"New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill."

The blood left his lips, and Zoe thought he was faint; but the next
moment he put his handkerchief hastily to his nose, and wriggled his way
out, with a rush and a crawl, strangely combined, at the very moment when
the singer delivered her first commanding note of recitative.

Everybody about looked surprised and disgusted at so ill-timed an exit;
but Zoe, who had seen his white face, was seriously alarmed, and made a
movement to rise too, and watch, or even follow him; but, when he got to
the side, he looked back to her, and made her a signal that his nose was
bleeding, but it was of no great consequence. He even pointed with his
finger out and then back again, indicating he should not be long gone.

This re-assured her greatly; for she had always been told a little
bleeding of that sort was good for hot-headed young people. Then the
singer took complete hold of her. The composer, to balance the delightful
part of Marguerite, has given Siebel a melody with which wonders can be
done; and the Klosking had made a considerable reserve of her powers for
this crowning effort. After a recitative that rivaled the silver trumpet,