most of his awkwardness.
The brother kept in the background, having been ordered to do so, but he
amusedly watched the two from a distance, as did a good many others.

The prima donna conducted Mike straight to the grand saloon and sat down
before the superb piano. Others sauntered into the room to listen and
look and enjoy.

The frightened Mike hung back.

"Stand right here beside me," she said with pleasant imperiousness. "I
will play the accompaniment while you sing 'Mavourneen.'"

"I'm that scared, me leddy, that I couldn't sing a word."

"Tut, tut--none of that. Come, try!" and she struck several notes on the
instrument.

Mike's voice was a trifle uncertain at first, but she knew how to
encourage him, and soon the tones rang out with the exquisite sweetness
that had charmed the listeners the evening before. When with many doubts
he finished, he was startled by a vigorous handclapping that caused him
to look round. Fully fifty men and women had gathered without his
suspecting it. He bowed and was turning to walk to a chair, when the lady
stopped him.

"You are not through yet; I must test your voice further. Can you sing
any other songs?"

"I have thried a few."

"Name them."

"I can't ricollect them at this moment, but there's 'Oft in the Stilly
Night' and----"

"That will do; it is one of Tom Moore's prettiest. Are you ready?"

And the fast increasing audience applauded to the echo. Other pieces
followed until the prima donna allowed him to rest. Then sitting down
beside him, she said:

"As I told you last night, you have a fortune in your voice. If you can
arrange to leave your feeble parents to the care of others, you can soon
earn enough to keep them in comfort all their lives. If you can come to
Boston or New York when I sing there, you must not fail to call on me and
to attend the concert. Here is my card."

She had already written a few lines upon the pasteboard which made it an
open sesame to the possessor to any and all of her concerts. Mike thanked
her gratefully, and had to promise to come to see her again before the
steamer reached New York, and to think over her proposal. He kept his
promise so far as calling on her again, not once but several times before
she bade him good-by on the pier.

But, as I have said, there was nothing in her plan that appealed to the
Irish youth. The modest fellow never told of the occurrence to anyone,
nor did he give it more than a passing thought in t