ng her scales. What a voice! Brava! Brava!
Bravissima!"

The high soprano notes of the future Queen of Song rang through the
house as he spoke. Of the loudness of the young lady's voice there could
be no sort of doubt. The sweetness and the purity of it admitted, in my
opinion, of considerable dispute.

Having said the polite words which the occasion rendered necessary, I
ventured to recall Major Fitz-David to the subject in discussion between
us when his visitor had entered the room. The Major was very unwilling
to return to the perilous topic on which we had just touched when the
interruption occurred. He beat time with his forefinger to the singing
upstairs; he asked me about _my_ voice, and whether I sang; he remarked
that life would be intolerable to him without Love and Art. A man in my
place would have lost all patience, and would have given up the struggle
in disgust. Being a woman, and having my end in view, my resolution was
invincible. I fairly wore out the Major's resistance, and compelled him
to surrender at discretion. It is only justice to add that, when he did
make up his mind to speak to me again of Eustace, he spoke frankly, and
spoke to the point.

"I have known your husband," he began, "since the time when he was a
boy. At a certain period of his past life a terrible misfortune fell
upon him. The secret of that misfortune is known to his friends, and
is religiously kept by his friends. It is the secret that he is keeping
from You. He will never tell it to you as long as he lives. And he has
bound _me_ not to tell it, under a promise given on my word of honor.
You wished, dear Mrs. Woodville, to be made acquainted with my position
toward Eustace. There it is!"

"You persist in calling me Mrs. Woodville," I said.

"Your husband wishes me to persist," the Major answered. "He assumed the
name of Woodville, fearing to give his own name, when he first called
at your uncle's house. He will now acknowledge no other. Remonstrance
is useless. You must do what we do--you must give way to an unreasonable
man. The best fellow in the world in other respects: in this one matter
as obstinate and self-willed as he can be. If you ask me my opinion, I
tell you honestly that I think he was wrong in courting and marrying
you under his false name. He trusted his honor and his happiness to your
keeping in making you his--wife. Why should he not trust the story of
his troubles to you as well? His mother quite shares my