Evidently Paul was quite as much interested in Adele’s success as she was in his,—but how different the motive and varied the form of expressing the emotion. Paul determined to give her some sort of a hint as to how he felt, and in a way she alone would recognize. If he had been older, no doubt he would have told her so direct, but youth is fonder of playing games in which self-reliance takes a prominent part. He made up his mind to sing anyhow, and quick as a flash the thought had come to him, “her effect was through the music, not the words, why not forget the music and think of the words?—try it with a style and with a purpose so different from hers that no comparison can possibly be in order?” He would force attention to the words rather than the music, and compel the audience to listen for the sake of the words. As to sentiment! His eyes twinkled as he thought of it; the audience could interpret that, each after his own fashion,—as for him, he would forget the music and think of Adele.
Paul went to the piano, telling Adele not to listen, as it was only some verses from “Life” which the Doctor had set to music. This was quite enough to excite Adele’s curiosity, and made her more attentive even than the others.
Paul’s voice was a rich baritone with but little cultivation, and fresh as nature had given it to him, with some few rich masculine notes as soft as velvet. When he felt intensely, yet kept himself under control, and the song brought into play those particular notes, Paul could make even a society reporter listen with sincerity. His articulation being clear, the listeners heard the words without effort, and the music became a harmonious medium of communication.
Much to his satisfaction he felt this mood coming over him. The Doctor, too, knew by his manner that Paul would be at his best, so played the accompaniment to sustain the voice, yet allow expression absolutely free with Paul,—a condition of things only possible to those who have personal sympathy as well as melodic instinct.
Each line of the song told its own tale;—the sentiment, not the cultivation of the voice nor accompaniment, attracted attention;—a few gestures gave the proper emphasis.
“She is so fair,
And yet to me
She is unfair
As she can be.
“Were she less fair,