you!" was her parting instigation.

The quartett was abandoned. Arabella had departed with a firm countenance
to combat Mrs. Chump.

Emilia sat by her harp. The saloon was critically still; so still that
Adela fancied she heard a faint Irish protest from the parlour. Wilfrid
was perhaps the most critical auditor present: for he doubted whether she
could renew that singular charm of her singing in the pale lighted woods.
The first smooth contralto notes took him captive. He scarcely believed
that this could be the raw girl whom his sisters delicately pitied.

A murmur of plaudits, the low thunder of gathering acclamation, went
round. Lady Gosstre looked a satisfied, "This will do." Wilfrid saw
Emilia's eyes appeal hopefully to Mr. Pericles. The connoisseur shrugged.
A pain lodged visibly on her black eyebrows. She gripped her harp, and
her eyelids appeared to quiver as she took the notes. Again, and still
singing, she turned her head to him. The eyes of Mr. Pericles were white,
as if upraised to intercede for her with the Powers of Harmony. Her voice
grew unnerved. On a sudden she excited herself to pitch and give volume
to that note which had been the enchantment of the night in the woods. It
quavered. One might have thought her caught by the throat.

Emilia gazed at no one now. She rose, without a word or an apology,
keeping her eyes down.

"Fiasco!" cruelly cried Mr. Pericles.

That was better to her than the silly kindness of the people who deemed
it well to encourage her with applause. Emilia could not bear the
clapping of hands, and fled.

CHAPTER V

The night was warm under a slowly-floating moon. Full of compassion for
the poor girl, who had moved him if she had failed in winning the
assembly, Wilfrid stepped into the garden, where he expected to find her,
and to be the first to pet and console her. Threading the scented shrubs,
he came upon a turn in one of the alleys, from which point he had a view
of her figure, as she stood near a Portugal laurel on the lawn. Mr.
Pericles was by her side. Wilfrid's intention was to join them. A loud
sob from Emilia checked his foot.

"You are cruel," he heard her say.

"If it is good, I tell it you; if it is bad; abominable, I tell it you,
juste ze same," responded Mr. Pericles.

"The others did not think it very bad."

"Ah! bah!" Mr. Pericles cut her short.

Had they been talking of matters secret and too sweet, Wilfrid would have
retired, like a man o