She then brought from the crown of her bonnet a paper full of bonbons, which she opened and presented to me. I replied very sharply, in a low voice, "I don't eat while I am singing," and should have taken no more notice of her; but she now raised upon me her large eyes to the full, and still pushed the bonbon paper at me,--almost in my face too. I was too well bred to push it away, but too honest not to say, when she still persisted in offering the saccharine conglomeration, "I don't like curl papers." The child turned from me with a fierce gesture, but her eyes were now swimming in tears. I was astonished, angry, melted. I at length reproached myself; and though I could not bring myself to touch the colored chocolates, crumbled up as they had been in her hand, I did condescend to whisper, "Never mind!" and she took out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes. Now, all this while my young lady took no heed, and I felt almost sure she must have noticed us; but she did not turn to the large-eyed maiden, and _I_ occupied myself with both. That night again Davy joined me, and I only managed to catch a glimpse of the muslin bonneted, holding her bonbons still in one dirty glove, and with the other taking the hand of a huge, high-shouldered man, going out with the crowd. Oh, Davy was too deep for me, and delicate as deep! The next night of our meeting my number was moved to the other side of my serene neighbor, who at present divided me from the hazel eyes and the ringlets. It never occurred to me that _he_ had done it; I thought it to be a mistake, and fully intended, like a curious manikin, to go back another time to my old quarters. I could not help looking at the little one to see whether I was watched. But no; with a coquetry I was too young to appreciate, and she ought to have been too young to exercise, she sang with all her might, never once turning her eyes towards me. I found at length the fascinations of our choral force too strong not to submerge her slight individuality, and soon I forgot she was there,--though I never forgot that serene voice breathing by my side faint prophecies I could not render to myself in any form, except that they had to do with myself, and with music alike my very own. I do not think any musical taste was ever fed and fostered early in an atmosphere so pure as mine; for Lenhart Davy's class, when fully organized and entirely submitted to him, seemed invested with his own double peculiarity,--subdued, yet strong. We were initiated this evening into an ancient anthem, whose effect, when it was permitted to us to interpret, was such that I could not repress my satisfaction, and I said aloud, though I did not confront my companion, "That is something like!" My serene contralto answered, strangely to my anticipations, and with the superior womanliness I have ascribed to her, "Is it not glorious?"