“Isn’t she very pretty?” was Mrs. Churchill’s next remark; and Georgie replied:
“Yes, though rather too small and petite to impress one very strongly. There is something familiar in her face; and I should say she looked a good deal like Mrs. Charlie Churchill.”
“Oh, I’m glad,” and Mrs. Churchill’s hands made a little rattling among the china and silver, while her heart went out still more kindly toward the young girl who resembled Charlie’s wife.
Georgie had not intended such a result, and she said no more of Miss Overton, or her resemblance to Edna Churchill; and, as if inspired with some new idea, she was very gracious to Edna, and after dinner was over, and they had returned to the drawing-room, she took a seat beside her, and questioned her minutely with regard to her journey and her home at Rocky Point. Had she always lived there, and was it not a charming place, with such delightful scenery?
“No, I have not always lived there. I was born in Ohio, and lived there till my father died,” Edna replied, fully alive to the danger of letting her interrogator too much into the history of her past life, and with a suspicion that Georgie was really making her out.
But the home in Ohio threw Georgie off the track, and ere she could resume it again Maude came to the rescue, bringing Roy with her, and urging Edna to favor them with some music.
“I have told Mr. Leighton how divinely you sing,” Maude said, “and he is anxious to judge for himself; so please, Dotty, don’t refuse.”
Edna, who knew herself that she could sing, thought it impolite to refuse; and when Roy seconded Maude’s request, and offered to lead her to the piano, she arose, and taking his arm walked the whole length of the long drawing-room to the alcove or bay-window, where the piano was standing. There was a mist before her eyes, and a visible trembling of her hands as she took her seat upon the stool; and then, by way of gaining time, pretended to turn over the sheets of music, as if in quest of something familiar. But when Roy, who saw her agitation, bent over her, and said so kindly and reassuringly, “Don’t be afraid, Miss Overton. You have not a critical audience,—half of us don’t know one tune from another,” she felt her courage coming back, and her voice which, as she began to sing, trembled a little, soon gained strength and confidence, until it filled the room with such rich melody as held every listener silent, and made Mrs. Churchill brush away a tear or two, as she thought of Charlie and his grave beneath the evergreens. Edna was not permitted to stop with one song, but sang piece after piece, until thoughtful Roy interfered in her behalf, and said it was wrong to urge her further when he knew how tired she must be.
“Not that I could not listen to you all night, but it would be the fable of the boys and the frogs over again,” he said, as he led her from the piano and deposited her at his mother’s side.
“You have given me a great deal of pleasure, Miss Overton,” Mrs. Churchill said; “and I thank you for it. I am very fond of singing; and you have so sweet a voice. I shall often make demands upon it. I am glad you are here.”