Next time we met we began the anthem after our first exercise. Laura[8]—by this time she was always Laura in my own world—nodded at me. She had on a green silk frock to-night; and surely no color could have so enhanced the clarified brightness of her strange eyes. Davy was pleased with us, but not with our enunciation of certain syllables. He requested us as a favor to practise between that meeting and the next. There were a great many assents, and Laura was very open in her "yes." Miss Benette whispered to herself, "Of course." And I, unable to resist the opportunity, whispered to her, "Does he mean that we are to practise alone, or one by one?"
"Mr. Davy will lend us our parts, and I daresay will copy them on purpose," she replied. "It will be better to practise alone, or at least one or two together, than a great many, or even a few. We can more easily detect our faults."
"How well she speaks!" I thought,—"quite as prettily as Millicent; her accent is very good, I am sure;" and I again addressed her. "I do not think you have any faults at all,—your voice seems able to do anything."
"I do nothing at all with it, it seems to me, and that I have very little voice at present. I think we had better not talk, because it seems so careless."
"Talk to me," broke in Laura from beyond Miss Benette; but I would not,—I steadily looked in front, full of a new plan of mine. I must explain that we proceeded slowly, because Davy's instructions were complete,—perhaps too ideal for the majority; but for some and for me there was an ineffaceable conviction in every novel utterance.
Just before we separated, I ventured to make my request. "Miss Benette!" I said, and she almost stared, quite started to find I knew her name, "Mr. Davy told me who you were,—will you let me come and practise with you? He will tell you my name if you must know it, but I should so like to sing with you,—I do so admire your voice." I spoke with the most perfect innocence, at the same time quite madly wishing to know her; I did not mean to be overheard, but on the instant Laura looked over.
"You don't ask me."
"Because I don't care about your voice," I answered, bluntly. She again gazed at me brightly, her eyes swimming.
"Oh, hush!" whispered Miss Benette; "you have hurt her, poor little thing."