“Very much.”
“Shall I sing it to you?” asked Helen, quietly.
“You, Helen?” asked Martha, lifting up her eyes in astonishment. “Can you sing? I never heard you.”
“I do not sing very often,” said Helen, sadly. “My mother taught me, and whenever I sing it brings up thoughts of her.”
“I should like very much to hear you sing, Helen,” said Martha; “but do not do it if it will make you sad.”
“Never mind, Martha. I will sing, if it will give you pleasure.”
Helen commenced the song, and sang it to the end in a voice of remarkable richness and power. She was gifted with a voice of extraordinary flexibility and compass, whose natural power had evidently been improved by cultivation. Martha, who, though no singer herself, was very fond of listening to music, and could judge when it had merit, listened with unaffected astonishment and delight. She felt that she had never heard a voice of equal sweetness and power.
“You have a beautiful voice,” she said, when Helen had finished the song. “You sang it much better than it was sung at the theatre yesterday. Some day you may become a great singer.”
“Do you really think so?” asked Helen, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I am very glad.”
Martha looked up in some surprise, not understanding why it was that Helen felt so much pleased. But a new thought had come to the child.