"Yes, I should think so; but it is not good taste to dislike Laura's voice, for it is very pretty." "Come, Miss Benette, do make haste and tell me whether you will let me sing with you to-morrow." "I do not mind if your friends will not object." "Tell me where you live, then." "In St. Anthony's Lane, just by the new foundation. There is a tree in front, but no garden. You must not come, if you please, until after one o'clock, because I have to practise for my other lessons." "Good-night." She ran off, having bowed a little courtesy. Laura had left while we were talking. "Now," thought I, "I shall have it all out, who she is and what she does, and I will make Millicent go to see her." Davy here joined me. "So you have made friends with Miss Benette." "Yes, sir;" but I did not tell him I was going to practise with her, for fear anything should prevent my going. "She is an excellent young person, and will be a true artist. Nevertheless, remember my injunction,--rather too few friends than too many." "I mean to keep friends with her, and to make my sister friends with her." "Your sister does not want friends, I should think." "Oh, sir, did you ever find out who the conductor was?" "Nobody knows. It is very singular," and he raised his voice, "that he has never been heard of since, and had not been seen before by anybody present, though so many foreign professors were in the hall. In London they persist it was Milans-André, though André has himself contradicted the assertion." "I should like to hear Milans-André." "You will some day, no doubt." "Do you think I shall?" "I feel in myself quite sure. Now, good-night to you." "Do come in, sir, and have some supper, please." But Davy was off in the moonlight before the door could be opened into our house. When I told Millicent I was going to practise with one of the class, she thought fit to tell my mother. My mother made various inquiries; but I satisfied her by assuring her it was one of Davy's own pupils, and his favorite, and I contrived not to be asked whether it was a young lady,--I let them think just at that time it was a young gentleman about my own standing. The only direct injunction laid upon me was that I should be home for tea at five o'clock,--and as I did not leave our house until after our one o'clock dinner, this did not give me very much time; but I ran the whole way. I forgot to mention that Davy had lent each of us our parts beautifully copied,--at least he had lent them to all who engaged to practise, and I was one. I had rolled it up very neatly. I soon found the house, but I was certainly astonished when I did find it. I could not believe such a creature as Miss Benette could remain, so bright, buried down there. It was the last house of a very dull row, all let out in lodgings,--the meanest in the town except the very poor.