"I shall endeavor to prove that I am."

"Be kind enough to go and play an air or two. I can judge by your touch;
I used to play finely when a girl."

Miss Muir rose, looked about her for the instrument, and seeing it at
the other end of the room went toward it, passing Gerald and Lucia as if
she did not see them. Bella followed, and in a moment forgot everything
in admiration. Miss Muir played like one who loved music and was perfect
mistress of her art. She charmed them all by the magic of this spell;
even indolent Gerald sat up to listen, and Lucia put down her needle,
while Ned watched the slender white fingers as they flew, and wondered
at the strength and skill which they possessed.

"Please sing," pleaded Bella, as a brilliant overture ended.

With the same meek obedience Miss Muir complied, and began a little
Scotch melody, so sweet, so sad, that the girl's eyes filled, and Mrs.
Coventry looked for one of her many pocket-handkerchiefs. But suddenly
the music ceased, for, with a vain attempt to support herself, the
singer slid from her seat and lay before the startled listeners, as
white and rigid as if struck with death. Edward caught her up, and,
ordering his brother off the couch, laid her there, while Bella chafed
her hands, and her mother rang for her maid. Lucia bathed the poor
girl's temples, and Gerald, with unwonted energy, brought a glass of
wine. Soon Miss Muir's lips trembled, she sighed, then murmured,
tenderly, with a pretty Scotch accent, as if wandering in the past,
"Bide wi' me, Mither, I'm sae sick an sad here all alone."