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CHAPTER XXI. "Oh, no; because if you can sing at all—that is correctly, and without false notes—you must feel music and love it." "Yes, old-fashioned. She is always called Doatie Darling by her familiars, which sounds funny. She is quite charming, and loved by every one.".
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It is Paul Rodney. And then she sings again, some old-world song of love and chivalry that awakes within one a quick longing for a worthier life. Her sweet voice rings through the room, now glad with triumph, now sad with a "lovely melancholy," as the words and music sway her. Her voice is clear and pure and full of pathos! She seems to follow no rule; an "f" here or a "p" there, on the page before her, she heeds not, but sings only as her heart dictates. "This is nicer than anything," she says, turning in a state of childish enthusiasm to Lady Lilias. "It is just like the floor in my uncle's house at home." "Well, no; but I dare say I shall before I am done with you. Besides, it occurred to me I might as well have a last look at you before consigning my body to the grave.".
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