The family were all around the evening fire, when Mrs. Cabell and her daughters entered.
Major Cabell—who was as usual sitting by Zuleime, with his arm over the back of her chair in a property-holding sort of manner—arose, and handing his mother to a seat, received from her hand a roll of papers.
“It is some new music, my son, for the dear girls. There are some beautiful songs of Moore’s just published. Carolyn, love, I have thirsted to hear your sweet voice again. Will you sing?”
Miss Clifton’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned away her head.
Zuleime stole to her aunt’s side, and while seeming to examine the music, whispered—
“Dear Aunt Cabell, Carolyn has entirely lost her voice!”
The lady was very much shocked to hear it, and grieved at her own unfortunate proposition, but durst not trust herself to reply, lest Carolyn should hear and understand the subject of their conversation.
Major Cabell, who was turning over the music, suddenly had his gaze fixed by one particular piece. His eyes lighted up with a peculiar satisfaction, and turning to Zuleime, he said—
“My own, you can read music at sight. Can you not?”
“Yes,” replied the girl.