"Mr. Leslie is a fine musician," said Hugh bluntly; "I have seldom heard so fine a baritone,—so rich and manly."
Now Graham sang tenor,—a very delicate tenor, and naturally he could not sympathize with Hugh's fancy for a rich baritone. As he rose to take leave, Sibyl said, "I wish you would bring over your music, Mr. Marr, and sing for us. We were all charmed with that little German song you sung this evening; it was so full of pathos."
"Pathos!" whispered Hugh to Aunt Faith, as Sibyl accompanied the poet into the hall. "How can Sibyl endure that calf!"
"As Pete Trone said, 'de gustibus' and so forth, Hugh," said Sibyl's voice from the hall as she closed the door behind Graham.
"Well, Sibyl; I did not intend you to hear the epithet, but I cannot with sincerity take it back," said Hugh.
"I like calves," said Sibyl, "they have beautiful eyes! Good-night!"
"I never can make Sibyl out!" said Hugh, as his sister disappeared. "She never loses her temper, and truth always comes out with the temper, you know. Well, Aunt Faith, I have been a very bad boy all day. Will you pardon all my misdeeds?"
"If you are penitent," said Aunt Faith, smiling. Then, more seriously,
"You will not forget what I said to you this morning, Hugh?"
"No, aunt; I shall not forget. Your words sank deeper than you knew," said Hugh gravely.