‘Come, let us have a glee, girls,’ said Mr. Compton, after a game of forfeits had been played with all its pleasant, noisy fun, which seems now to have abandoned us; ‘come, we must have some music. Get you to the harpsichord, Amy, and I will help out my own bass with my violoncello.’
‘What shall we sing, sir?’ answered Amy, gaily, going at once to the instrument; ‘here are all kinds,—comic, lively, and grave. Ah! I have hit at once upon Herbert’s favourite,—“When winds breathe soft.”’
‘Very good; you could not have anything better; and we all know that your heart will be in your song;—but, let us see.’
The parts were soon arranged; Amy led the glee, the delicious harmony of which appeared to float in the air above their heads, so perfectly was it sung by voices, excellent in themselves, and attuned by constant practice. Others followed; for as they had begun with glees, so they agreed to continue.
At last, after a pause, Mr. Compton, patting her cheek, said,—‘Well, you have sung so well, Amy, that I think I shall have a letter for my pet to-night.’
‘A letter!—for me? Ah, sir, from whom? not from Herbert?’
‘Indeed I hope so, my darling,’ added Mrs. Compton; ‘you know we were disappointed by the last packet, and Mr. Compton heard yesterday from his London agent, saying that a Bombay vessel had arrived with letters, and that he would forward ours the next day.’
‘I am so happy! dear, dear Mrs. Compton,’ cried the joyful girl, throwing her arms around her, and kissing her; ‘I feel so very happy! And when will the letters come?’
‘I expect the boy every moment with the bag,’ she replied; ‘he should have been here before this; but perhaps the post is late at —— to-day, on account of the weather.’
‘Then we shall have a delightful evening, indeed,’ said Amy; ‘shall we not, boys and girls? Herbert’s letters to all of you shall be read first, and then I will read just such scraps of mine as I please. You know how I love to tyrannise over you, and tempt you with a great deal that you must not see.’