"And what shall I sing, Sir Richard?"
"The one I love best—'Fairy Bells.'"
When the first line with its sweet accompaniment floated out from the porch on the balmy air of the June evening, the Lieutenant's fears had vanished. Never had he heard a song whose trembling melody so found his inmost soul. It set the Fairy Bells ringing in the deep woods of his far-away Mississippi home. He could see the fairy ringing them—her beautiful hair streaming in the moonlight, a smile on her lips, the joy and beauty of eternal youth in every movement of her exquisite form.
When the last note had died softly away, he leaned close and before he knew what he was doing, whispered:
"Glorious, Miss Sarah!"
"You like it very much?" she asked.
"It's divine."
"My favorite, too."
All night the "Fairy Bells" rang in his heart. For the first time in life, he failed to sleep. He listened entranced until dawn.