before her, with a passing light of eyes likely to be rather disturbing
to a jealous spectator. The Captain seized the book without wincing, and
displayed a remarkable equanimity of countenance as he held it out,
according to direction. No sooner had Emilia struck a prelude of the
well-known air, than the interior of the booth was transfigured; legs
began to move, elbows jerked upward, fingers fillipped: the whole body of
them were ready to duck and bow, dance, and do her bidding she had fairly
caught their hearts. For, besides the pleasure they had in their own
familiar tune, it was wonderful to them that Emilia should know what they
knew. This was the marvel, this the inspiration. She smiled to see how
true she had struck, and seemed to swim on the pleasure she excited.
Once, as her voice dropped, she looked up at Captain Gambier, so very
archly, with the curving line of her bare throat, that Wilfrid was
dragged down from his cynical observatory, and made to feel as a common
man among them all.

At the "thrum-thrum" on the harp-strings, which wound up the song,
frenzied shouts were raised for a repetition. Emilia was perfectly
willing to gratify them; Captain Gambier appeared to be remonstrating
with her, but she put up her joined hands,
mock-petitioningly, and he with great affability held out the book anew.
Wilfrid was thinking of moving to her to take her forcibly away when she
recommenced.

At the same instant--but who, knowing that a house of glass is about to
be shattered, can refrain from admiring its glitter in the beams?--Ipley
crooned a ready accompaniment: the sleepers had been awakened: the women
and the men were alive, half-dancing, half-chorusing here a baby was
tossed, and there an old fellow's elbow worked mutely, expressive of the
rollicking gaiety within him: the whole length of the booth was in a