ud and
peremptory knocking at the street door. The Major stopped and listened
attentively. In a few moments the door was opened, and the rustling of a
woman's dress was plainly audible in the hall. The Major hurried to the
door of the room with the activity of a young man. He was too late. The
door was violently opened from the outer side, just as he got to it. The
lady of the rustling dress burst into the room.

CHAPTER IX. THE DEFEAT OF THE MAJOR.

MAJOR FITZ-DAVID'S visitor proved to be a plump, round-eyed overdressed
girl, with a florid complexion and straw colored hair. After first
fixing on me a broad stare of astonishment, she pointedly addressed her
apologies for intruding on us to the Major alone. The creature evidently
believed me to be the last new object of the old gentleman's idolatry;
and she took no pains to disguise her jealous resentment on discovering
us together. Major Fitz-David set matters right in his own irresistible
way. He kissed the hand of the overdressed girl as devotedly as he had
kissed mine; he told her she was looking charmingly. Then he led her,
with his happy mixture of admiration and respect, back to the door by
which she had entered--a second door communicating directly with the
hall.

"No apology is necessary, my dear," he said. "This lady is with me on
a matter of business. You will find your singing-master waiting for you
upstairs. Begin your lesson; and I will join you in a few minutes. _Au
revoir_, my charming pupil--_au revoir._"

The young lady answered this polite little speech in a whisper--with her
round eyes fixed distrustfully on me while she spoke. The door closed on
her. Major Fitz-David was a t liberty to set matters right with me, in
my turn.

"I call that young person one of my happy discoveries;" said the old
gentleman, complacently. "She possesses, I don't hesitate to say, the
finest soprano voice in Europe. Would you believe it, I met with her at
the railway station. She was behind the counter in a refreshment-room,
poor innocent, rinsing wine-glasses, and singing over her work. Good
Heavens, such singing! Her upper notes electrified me. I said to myself;
'Here is a born prima donna--I will bring her out!' She is the third
I have brought out in my time. I shall take her to Italy when her
education is sufficiently advanced, and perfect her at Milan. In that
unsophisticated girl, my dear lady, you see one of the future Queens of
Song. Listen! She is beginni