melodious and majestic voice, experiencing a singular pleasure without
properly understanding the sense. I remembered now with a painful
feeling of inferiority that my _thick_ speech had been remarked On
earlier in the day; and I could not but think that, compared with the
speech of this people, it was thick. In their rare physical beauty, the
color of their eyes and hair, and in their fascinating dress, they had
struck me as being utterly unlike any people ever seen by me. But it was
perhaps in their clear, sweet, penetrative voice, which sometimes
reminded me of a tender-toned wind instrument, that they most differed
from others.

The reading, I have said, had struck me as almost of the nature of a
religious service; nevertheless, everything went on as before--reading,
working, and occasional conversation; but the subdued talking and moving
about did not interfere with one's pleasure in the old man's musical
speech any more than the soft murmur and flying about of honey bees
would prevent one from enjoying the singing of a skylark. Emboldened by
what I saw the others doing, I left my seat and made my way across the
floor to Yoletta's side, stealing through the gloom with great caution
to avoid making a clatter with those abominable boots.

"May I sit down near you?" said I with some hesitation; but she
encouraged me with a smile and placed a cushion for me.

I settled myself down in the most graceful position I could assume,
which was not at all graceful, doubling my objectionable legs out of her
sight; and then began my trouble, for I was greatly perplexed to know
what to say to her. I thought of lawn-tennis and archery. Ellen Terry's
acting, the Royal Academy Exhibition, private theatricals, and twenty
things besides, but they all seemed unsuitable subjects to start