By a powerful effort he mastered his emotion, referring it to the

impression made upon him by her appearance. He spoke also of sacrifices,

which, even when voluntarily made, painfully wound the heart; of a

self-abnegation which could find its consolation in the happiness of a

friend, but which failed not to leave a sting in the soul that had

cherished fallacious hopes.

Mary understood him, and was grateful for his kindness.

"Thanks, thanks, signor," she said, warmly, as she passed on to salute

other guests.

When Mary approached the piano, and addressed a few kind words to Master

Christian, many Italian gentlemen begged her to favor them with a

canzone.

With her father's permission, the young girl consented to gratify the

guests. She hesitated awhile as to the language in which to sing, and was

turning over the leaves of a book handed her by Master Christian. The old

Deodati expressed a wish to hear a song in the language of the Low

Countries, and begging pardon of the Italian gentlemen, Mary said she

would sing a Kyrie Eleison in her maternal tongue.

Master Christian seated himself at the piano, to accompany her, and

commenced a prelude.

The first notes of the young girl were like a gentle murmur. By degrees

her voice became firmer and stronger, until at the end of each strophe the

word eleïson rose like a sonorous hymn to heaven.

The measure was remarkably slow, simple, and full of a tranquil melody.

Mary evidently felt the peculiar character of this chant, for instead of

endeavoring to add to the effect, she softened still more her singularly

sweet voice, and let the words drop slowly from her lips, as if the

songstress herself were ravished in contemplation and was listening to

celestial music.

At first the Italian gentlemen exchanged glances, as if to express the

thought that this chant could not compare with the brilliant lively style

of the Italian music. But this unfavorable opinion was not of long

duration. They, like all others, soon yielded to the irresistible

fascination of Mary's exquisite voice. They listened with such rapt

attention that not the slightest movement was made in the room, and one

might have heard the murmur of the leaves in the garden as they were

gently stirred by the breeze of May.

Mary had concluded her song and lifted her eyes to heaven with an

expression of adoration. All who gazed upon her felt as though they were

contemplating an angel before the throne of God. Even Simon Turchi was

subdued by admiration, and he even momentarily lost sight of the hatred

and jealousy which lacerated his heart.




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