"The Chevalier Seraphael," said Anastase, in his stilly voice, "has been writing a two-act piece to perform at his birth-night feast,[4] which is in honor, not so much of his own nativity, as of his parents arriving just that day at the twenty-fifth anniversary of their nuptials. He was born in the fifth year of their marriage, and upon their marriage-day. We have not too much time to work (but a week), as I made bold to tell him; but it appears this little work suggested itself to him suddenly,--in his sleep, as he says. It is a fairy libretto, and I should imagine of first-rate attraction. This is the score; and as it is only in manuscript, I need not say all our care is required to preserve it just as it now is. Your part, Auchester, will be sufficiently obvious when you look it over with the Fräulein Cerinthia, as she is good enough to permit you to do so; but you had better not look at it at all until that time." "But, sir, she can't undertake to perfect me in the fiddle part, can she?" "She could, I have no doubt, were it necessary," said Anastase, not satirically, but seriously; "but it just happens you are not to play." "Not to play! Then what on earth am I to do? Sing?" "Just so,--sing." "Oh, how exquisite! but I have not sung for ever so long. In a chorus, I suppose, sir?" "By no means. You see, Auchester, _I_ don't know your vocal powers, and may not do you justice; but the Chevalier is pleased to prefer them to all others for this special part." "But I never sang to him." "He has a prepossession, I suppose. At all events, it will be rather a ticklish position for you, as you are to exhibit yourself and your voice in counterpart to the person who takes the precedence of all others in songful and personal gifts." "Sir,"--I was astonished, for his still voice thrilled with the slightest tremble, and I knew he meant Maria,--"I am not fit to sing with her, or to stand by her, I know; but I think perhaps I could manage better than most other people, for most persons would be thinking of their own voices, and how to set them off against _hers_; now I shall only think how to keep my voice down, so that hers may sound above it, and everybody may listen to it, rather than to mine." Maria looked continually in her lap, but her lips moved. "Will you not love him, Florimond?" she whispered, and something more; but I only heard this. "I could well, Maria, if I had any love left to bestow; but you know how it is. I am not surprised at Charles's worship." It was the first time he had called me Charles, and I liked it very well,--him better than ever. "I suppose, sir, I _may_ have a look at the score, though?" "No, you may not," said Maria, "for I don't mean we should use this copy. I shall write it all out first." "But that will be useless," answered Anastase; "he made that copy for us."