People looked at each other. The magic power of genius was in those slender fingers—
"Sweeping the swift and silver chords."
In a moment she began to sing. She had chosen the pretty, familiar ballad of Annie Laurie.
Not one in the room but knew that only a powerful and well-trained voice could do justice to the melodious but difficult strain.
But Jaquelina's voice—clear and fresh as a nightingale's—soared upward without the least apparent effort.
The sweet, pathetic ballad was rendered exquisitely. There was a perfect hush throughout the room until it ended. Then they crowded around her.
"Another," and "another," and "another," they pleaded when she would have risen. It was Violet at last who brought it to an end by saying carelessly:
"Let us go back to the dancing now. We can have music every day, but dancing only now and then."
"Thank you," said a low voice over Jaquelina's shoulder as she was passing out of the door. She looked back and saw Ronald Valchester's face looking down at her with bright, shining eyes. "You have given me a great deal of pleasure," he said.
"I am very glad," she replied, and the next moment, she scarcely knew how it happened, he was walking by her side, and her hand was resting on his arm.