bed in white silk, trimmed with frosted leaves
and pink roses, and wore a garland of the same on her dark bright head.

"Tell me, thou bonnie bird,
When shall I marry me?
When three braw gentlemen
Churchward shall carry ye,"

sang the sweet full voice, and we listened entranced. The next song was
"Robin Adair."

Then came an encore, and as Narda acknowledged it, an accident occurred
which (as the newspapers say) might have had a fatal termination.

A flounce of the singer's dress touched the footlights, and the flame
began to creep upwards like a snake of fire.

Narda glanced downward, drew back, and was about to try to crush it out
with her hands, when in less time than it takes to tell it, the Russian
gentleman sprang forward, wrapped his fur-lined coat about her, and
extinguished the flame.

The poet had saved the nightingale, and Miss Melford's romantic girls
unanimously resolved "that he ought to marry her."

III.

And he did shortly after. Our some time music-teacher who was good
enough for any position became a _grande dame_ with a mansion in St.
Petersburg, and a country house in Livania. She went to balls at the
Winter Palace, and was present at all the court ceremonies.

Yet was she still our Narda, she sent us girls presents of Viennese
bonbons and French fruit, bought brother Carlo's paintings, sent
_petite_ Nita as a boarder to Miss Melford's, and studied under a great
_maestro_.

When a wee birdie came into the Russian nest she named it Endora Gloria,
and her happiness and my pride were complete.

Then came a great--a terrible blow. The count, whose opinions were
liberal, was accused of being implicated in a revolutionary rising. He
was cast into prison, and sent to the silver mines to work in the long
underground passages for twenty years.

Ivy Davis, who was very romantic, was grievously disappointed because
the countess returned to her profession instead of sharing her husband's
exile. But there came a day and an hour when she honoured as well as
loved the _cantatrice_; for she with Heaven's help freed the count, and
obtained his pardon from the Czar--she herself shall tell you how she
gained it.

Read the letter she sent to me:--

"Gloria, Alexis is free; he is nursing Endora as I write.

"When the officers took him from me I felt half mad, and knew
not where to go.

"One morning as I knelt by my little one's white bed an
inspiration came; over the mantel was