Not one amongst them, the most simple and illiterate, who did not hold their breath as he proceeded, lest they should lose one note of a voice
"Most musical, most melancholy,"
which gave such new magic to each familiar word of prayer, or praise, or exhortation he offered up.
"Who could that be? who read the prayers, Mary?" said Selina Seaham to her sister, when they left the church. "It is the same stranger who sat in our pew last Sunday."
"What a beautiful voice!" was the answer.
"Most beautiful; but more than that, Mary, I never saw a more striking looking person."
"I did not look at him," was the quiet reply; "I only felt that the prayers and lessons were read as we seldom hear them."
"Poor Mr. Wynne! it was painful to listen to him afterwards. It is really cruel that he cannot get a more regular assistant: Sir Hugh should really manage it for him. Mary, do use your influence over the worthy Baronet when he returns," the sister added slyly.
Mary blushed, and shook her head. She had a short time ago yielded up all claims upon the influence she might so largely have possessed; but ere the following Sunday came round, the wishes of the young ladies, in this respect, had been satisfied beyond their most sanguine expectations.