"Are you what people call fond of music?" he asked.
And she answered:
"Yes, I often put my own thoughts to music, and if I meet any words that seem to me very good or very sweet I never rest until I have found a melody that fits them. I came across some the other day. Shall I sing them to you?"
There was a slight commotion in the room when people saw the beautiful English girl led to the piano. She turned with a smile to Lord Chandos.
"My song is English," she said, "and will not be understood by every one."
"I shall understand it," he said; "you must sing it to me."
When he heard the words he understood the blush that covered her face.
"I should change my song," she said, "if another came into my mind. These words are by a poetess I read and admire much. It is called 'Somewhere or Other.'"
She sung in a sweet, pure voice; there was neither fire, power, nor passion in it; but the words were clear and distinct.
"'Somewhere or other there must surely be
The face not seen, the voice not heard,
The heart that never yet—never yet—ah, me,
Made answer to my word.