the mistress took her station among
them, all as if the exhibition were no novelty. Lucilla, laying her hand
on the victim's arm, said, 'Come, don't be nervous, or what will you do
to-morrow? Come.'

'"Goddess of the Silver Bow,"' suggested Owen. 'Wasn't it that which
your mother disapproved, Fanny, because it was worshipping idols to sing
about great Diana of the Ephesians?'

'Yes, sir,' said rather a conceited voice from the prettiest of the elder
girls; 'and you told us it was about Phoebe Bright, and gave her the blue
and silver ribbon.'

'And please, sir,' said another less prepossessing damsel, 'Mrs. Jenkyns
took it away, and I said I'd tell you.'

Owen shrugged up his shoulders with a comical look, saying, as he threw
her a shilling, 'Never mind; there's a silver circle instead of a
bow--that will do as well. Here's a rival goddess for you, Phoebe; two
moons in a system.'

The girls were in a universal titter, the mistress with her eyes cast
down, blushing more than ever. Lucilla muttered an amused but indignant,
'For shame, Owen!' and herself gave the key-note. The performance was
not above the average of National School melody, but no sooner was it
over, than Owen named, in an under-tone, another song, which was
instantly commenced, and in which there joined a voice that had been
still during the first, but which soon completely took the lead. And
such a voice, coming as easily as the notes of the nightingale from the
nobly-formed throat, and seeming to fill the room with its sweet power!
Lucilla's triumph was complete; Honor's scruples were silenced by the
admiring enjoyment, and Phoebe was in a state of rapture. The nervous
reluctance had given way to the artistic delight in her own power, and
she readily sang all that was asked for, latterly such pieces as needed
little or no support from the children--the 'Three Fishers' Wives' coming
last, and thrilling every one with the wondrous pathos and sadness of the
tones that seemed to come from her very heart.

It seemed as if they would never have come away, had not Mr. Prendergast
had pity on the restless movements of some of the younglings, who, taking
no part in the display, had leisure to perceive that the clock had struck
their hour of release, and at the close of 'The Fishers' Wives,' he
signed to Lucilla to look at the hour.

'Poor little things!' said she, turning round to the gaping and
discontented collection, 'have we used you so ill?