face, indicative of healthy, warm, rich pulsations. She possessed a
contralto voice, of a quality like that of a blackbird, and it fell
to her and to Frank to sing. She was dressed in a fashion perhaps a
little more courtly than was usual in the gatherings at Mr Palmer's
house, and Frank, as he stood beside her at the piano, could not
restrain his eyes from straying every now and then a way from his
music to her shoulders, and once nearly lost himself, during a solo
which required a little unusual exertion, in watching the movement of
a locket and of what was for a moment revealed beneath it. He
escorted her amidst applause to a corner of the room, and the two sat
down side by side.

'What a long time it is, Frank, since you and I sang that duet
together. We have seen nothing of you lately.'

'Of course not; I was in Germany.'

'Yes, but I think you deserted us before then. Do you remember that
summer when we were all together at Bonchurch, and the part songs
which astonished our neighbours just as it was growing dark? I
recollect you and I tried together that very duet for the first time
with the old lodging-house piano.'

Frank remembered that evening well.

'You sang better than you did to-night. You did not keep time: what
were you dreaming about?'

'How hot the room is! Do you not feel it oppressive? Let us go into
the conservatory for a minute.'