stirred his feelings strangely. It moved
him so much that he was forced to take down his arms and turn aside from
the piano for a moment or two; he scarcely wanted her to see how deeply
he was touched. He soon came back to her side, however, and said--

"If I had refused to listen to you, what would you have done?"

"I don't know," she answered meditatively.

"You would have gone to some manager--some celebrated _impresario_?"

"And been snubbed and repulsed by one and all!" said, Cynthia, with
sudden passion.

She rose from the music-stool and stood facing him; he saw her bosom
rise and fall, he marked the varying color in her cheeks, the light and
shadow in her troubled eyes, as she poured out the impetuous words with
which her heart was charged.

"I could not have borne it! I do not know how to put up with insult and
contempt. I feel that I hate all the world when it treats me in that
way. I never could be meek and good like other girls. I don't mean that
I want to be wicked--I hope I am not wicked--but, if you had failed me,
I think that I should have gone straight away to London Bridge and
thrown myself into the river--for I should have had no hope left."

"My dear girl," said Hubert, rather gravely, "with that voice of yours
you would have been very wrong to feel so easily discouraged."

"Oh, what would the voice matter if I could get nobody to listen to it?"
cried Cynthia, with fiery scorn. "I may have a fortune in my voice, but
how will the fortune benefit me if I can't have it for the next five or
ten years, and am starving in the meantime? I could not have stayed more
than a few days at Mrs. Wadsley's, as I had no money, and was not likely
to earn any. If I was turned out, where was I to go? It is winter now,
not summer, as it was when I slept in the Park four years ago, and dear
old Lalli found me crying on the steps. A night out of doors in this
weather would not leave me much voice to sing with, I fancy! No; I had
made up my mind, Mr. Lepel--if you would not listen to me, I would go to
London Bridge. If you think me wicked, I can't help it; it was my last
resource."

With her cheeks flaming, her eyes gleaming beneath her black brows, it
was plain that she was dominated by passion of no common strength, by
will and pride which made it well-nigh impossible for her to lead an
ordinary woman's life. Hubert looked at her, stupefied, fascinated by
her beauty; he was penetrated by an admiration that he ha