"But I never sang to him."
"He has a prepossession, I suppose. At all events, it will be rather a ticklish position for you, as you are to exhibit yourself and your voice in counterpart to the person who takes the precedence of all others in songful and personal gifts."
"Sir,"—I was astonished, for his still voice thrilled with the slightest tremble, and I knew he meant Maria,—"I am not fit to sing with her, or to stand by her, I know; but I think perhaps I could manage better than most other people, for most persons would be thinking of their own voices, and how to set them off against hers; now I shall only think how to keep my voice down, so that hers may sound above it, and everybody may listen to it, rather than to mine."
Maria looked continually in her lap, but her lips moved. "Will you not love him, Florimond?" she whispered, and something more; but I only heard this.
"I could well, Maria, if I had any love left to bestow; but you know how it is. I am not surprised at Charles's worship."
It was the first time he had called me Charles, and I liked it very well,—him better than ever.
"I suppose, sir, I may have a look at the score, though?"
"No, you may not," said Maria, "for I don't mean we should use this copy. I shall write it all out first."
"But that will be useless," answered Anastase; "he made that copy for us."