two women pensive. Calyste was conscious of pain in the midst of the
happiness he found in looking at Beatrix. Conti looked into the eyes of
the marquise to guess her thoughts. When dinner was over Mademoiselle
des Touches took Calyste's arm, gave the other two men to the marquise,
and let them pass before her, that she might be alone with the young
Breton for a moment.

"My dear Calyste," she said, "you are acting in a manner that
embarrasses the marquise; she may be delighted with your admiration, but
she cannot accept it. Pray control yourself."

"She was hard to me, she will never care for me," said Calyste, "and if
she does not I shall die."

"Die! you! My dear Calyste, you are a child. Would you have died for
me?"

"You have made yourself my friend," he answered.

After the talk that follows coffee, Vignon asked Conti to sing
something. Mademoiselle des Touches sat down to the piano. Together she
and Gennaro sang the _Dunque il mio bene tu mia sarai_, the last duet
of Zingarelli's "Romeo e Giulietta," one of the most pathetic pages of
modern music. The passage _Di tanti palpiti_ expresses love in all its
grandeur. Calyste, sitting in the same arm-chair in which Felicite had
told him the history of the marquise, listened in rapt devotion. Beatrix
and Vignon were on either side of the piano. Conti's sublime voice knew
well how to blend with that of Felicite. Both had often sung this piece;
they knew its resources, and they put their whole marvellous gift
into bringing them out. The music was at this moment what its creator
intended, a poem of divine melancholy, the farewell of two swans to
life. When it was over, all present were under the influence of feelings
such as cannot express themselves by vulgar applause.

"Ah! music is the first of arts!" exclaimed the marquise.

"Camille thinks youth and beauty the first of poesies," said Claude
Vignon.

Mademoiselle des Touches looked at Claude with vague uneasiness.
Beatrix, not seeing Calyste, turned her head as if to know what effect
the music had produced upon him, less by way of interest in him than for
the gratification of Conti; she saw a white face bathed in tears. At
the sight, and as if some sudden pain had seized her, she turned back
quickly and looked at Gennaro. Not only had Music arisen before the eyes
of Calyste, touching him with her divine wand until he stood in presence
of Creation from which she rent the veil, but he was dumfounded by
Conti'