I saw, whose grace and elegance—”
“Have you not heard it, Luiza? There can be nothing more touching; it brings tears to the eyes.”
She resumed with infinite sweetness,—
“His face looks at me from the skies,
And from the mist that veils the sea;
And still his presence do I feel
Beside me, though he absent be.”
“It is ravishing!” Luiza murmured, with a sigh.
Leopoldina finished with an “ah!” on which her voice lingered with inexpressible languor.
Luiza, seated near the piano, inhaled the perfume of new-mown hay which Leopoldina was accustomed to use; the fado and its words inspired her with a gentle melancholy, and her dreamy gaze followed Leopoldina’s slender and agile fingers, covered with rings, as they ran over the keys.