“Mother, I tremble for that child. I trembled when I heard her sing that Casta Diva as I never heard a good or happy woman sing it. There could not have been memory—there must have been prophecy in those wild, despairing wails.”
“There was intuition, and nothing more. But you have been to Germany, and I suppose you have grown mystical,” said Mrs. Lyon.
“By which you mean mad. Very likely. Perhaps my previsions are illusions: but mother, I nevertheless must insist that Drusilla shall drop opera and take up church music. Let her teachers know.”
“Certainly, Alick. And now light my candle and wake up your father; it is bed time.”
Alexander lighted and handed the wax taper to his mother, and then gently roused his father, who had been comfortably napping in his easy chair.
And the trio separated and went to rest.
CHAPTER IX.
BRIDAL FAVORS.
Love was to her impassioned soul,
Not as to others, a mere part
Of her existence, but the whole,—