"Oh! if you please, Gounod's Slumber-song. This is just the time and place for it."
Accordingly, with only the rippling of the fountain as an accompaniment, the sweet clear notes rose, and the highly-trained voice of the prima donna performed the difficult runs and trills of this most beautiful of slumber-songs with that precision and delicacy attained by years of practice and hard training.
The song came to an end, and for a few moments no one spoke, till at length Elsie Severn, drawing a deep sigh of relief, said in her impulsive way:
"Why, Mademoiselle Laurentia, I have never heard you sing like that before. I thought I had heard you at your best in London, but I never felt your singing so much as to-night."
"I am glad you were pleased, my dear. Would you like another?"
"Yes, above all things. Just wait a moment though; I want to speak to mamma."
Elsie crossed over to where Lady Severn sat, and whispered to her saying:
"If the gentlemen come out while mademoiselle is singing, don't let any of them come over to us. She can't bear a crowd round her, and I don't want her to be disturbed."
"Very well, child; it shall be as you wish. I hope, though, you did not ask mademoiselle to sing; you must not do that."
"No, no, indeed I did not, mamma. She offered to sing for me."