Edna, who knew herself that she could sing, thought it impolite to refuse; and when Roy seconded Maude’s request, and offered to lead her to the piano, she arose, and taking his arm walked the whole length of the long drawing-room to the alcove or bay-window, where the piano was standing. There was a mist before her eyes, and a visible trembling of her hands as she took her seat upon the stool; and then, by way of gaining time, pretended to turn over the sheets of music, as if in quest of something familiar. But when Roy, who saw her agitation, bent over her, and said so kindly and reassuringly, “Don’t be afraid, Miss Overton. You have not a critical audience,—half of us don’t know one tune from another,” she felt her courage coming back, and her voice which, as she began to sing, trembled a little, soon gained strength and confidence, until it filled the room with such rich melody as held every listener silent, and made Mrs. Churchill brush away a tear or two, as she thought of Charlie and his grave beneath the evergreens. Edna was not permitted to stop with one song, but sang piece after piece, until thoughtful Roy interfered in her behalf, and said it was wrong to urge her further when he knew how tired she must be. “Not that I could not listen to you all night, but it would be the fable of the boys and the frogs over again,” he said, as he led her from the piano and deposited her at his mother’s side. “You have given me a great deal of pleasure, Miss Overton,” Mrs. Churchill said; “and I thank you for it. I am very fond of singing; and you have so sweet a voice. I shall often make demands upon it. I am glad you are here.” Mrs. Churchill, who seldom did anything by halves, had conceived a strong liking for her little companion, and her, “I am glad you are here,” was so hearty and sincere, that Edna felt her eyes filling with tears, and wondered how she could ever have thought otherwise than kindly of this woman at her side. Meantime, at the farther end of the room, Roy and Georgie were discussing the stranger and her style of singing. “The sweetest voice I ever heard,” Roy said; “and I am glad, for it will afford mother so much pleasure. I remember how delightedly she used to listen to poor Charlie’s performance on his guitar when it almost drove me crazy.” “And that reminds me,” said Georgie, “that Miss Overton looks a little like Charlie’s wife. Indeed, the resemblance struck me at first as very strong. Wouldn’t it be a funny joke if it were Charlie’s wife in disguise?” “A joke I should hardly relish,” Roy replied; “for why should Edna come here in disguise when she knows the door stands open to her at any time?”