And, thus encouraged, she poured all her soul and all the pure melody of her voice into this music, at once religious and voluptuous, seemingly the rapture of a nun that remembrance has overtaken and for the moment overpowered. When she had done, Madame Savelli jumped from her chair, and seizing her by both hands said,—
"If you'll stop with me for a year, I'll make something wonderful of you."
Then without another word she ran out of the room, leaving the door open behind her, and a few moments after they heard her calling on the stairs to her husband.
"Come down at once; come down, I've found a star."
"Then she thinks I've a good voice?"
"I should think so indeed. She won't get over the start you've given her for the next six months."
"Are you sure, Owen? Are you sure she's not laughing at us?"
"Laughing at us? She's calling for her husband to come down. She's shouting to him that she's found a star."
Then the joy that rose up in Evelyn's heart blinded her eyes so that she could not see, and she seemed to lose sense of what was happening. It was as if she were going to swoon.
"I have told her," Madame Savelli said to her husband, who followed her into the room, "that, if she will remain a year with me, I'll make something wonderful of her. And you will stay with me, my dear...."