Beulah - Page 193/348

Beulah would have demurred, but at this moment she saw Dr.

Hartwell's buggy approaching the house. Her heart seemed to spring

to her lips, and, feeling that after their last unsatisfactory

interview she was in no mood to meet him, she quickly descended the

steps, so blinded by haste that she failed to perceive the hand

Eugene extended to assist her. The door-bell uttered a sharp peal as

they reached the hall, and she had just time to escape into the

parlor when the doctor was ushered in.

"What is the matter?" asked Eugene, observing the nervous flutter of

her lips.

"Ask Miss Dupres to sing, will you?"

He looked at her curiously an instant, then turned away and

persuaded the little beauty to sing.

She took her seat, and ran her jeweled fingers over the pearl keys

with an air which very clearly denoted her opinion, of her musical

proficiency.

"Well, sir, what will you have?"

"That favorite morceau from 'Linda.'"

"You have never heard it, I suppose," said she, glancing over her

shoulder at the young teacher.

"Yes; I have heard it," answered Beulah, who could with difficulty

repress a smile.

Antoinette half shrugged her shoulders, as if she thought the

statement questionable, and began the song. Beulah listened

attentively; she was conscious of feeling more than ordinary

interest in this performance, and almost held her breath as the

clear, silvery voice caroled through the most intricate passages.

Antoinette had been thoroughly trained, and certainly her voice was

remarkably sweet and flexible; but as she concluded the piece and

fixed her eyes complacently on Beulah, the latter lifted her head in

proud consciousness of superiority.

"Sing me something else," said she.

Antoinette bit her lips, and answered ungraciously: "No; I shall have to sing to-night, and can't wear myself out."

"Now, Beulah, I shall hear you. I have sought an opportunity ever

since I returned." Eugene spoke rather carelessly.

"Do you really wish to hear me, Eugene?"

"Of course I do," said he, with some surprise.

"And so do I," added Mrs. Graham, leaning against the piano, and

exchanging glances with Antoinette.

Beulah looked up, and asked quietly: "Eugene, shall I sing you a ballad? One of those simple old tunes we

used to love so well in days gone by."

"No, no. Something operatic!" cried Antoinette, without giving him

an opportunity to reply.

"Well, then, Miss Dupres; select something."

"Can't you favor us with 'Casta-Diva'?" returned the beauty,--with

something very like a sneer.