Ashley, a fine singer himself, was passionately fond of music; and he lingered long before that house, walking up and down beneath the thick shadows of the grand old elms. This was but the beginning of pleasure; night after night, for some weeks, found the young physician in the same spot, when he was almost always so happy as to hear that rare, delicious singing, thrilling and quivering through the still and dewy air. It was generally accompanied by the piano; but sometimes he would see a gay group on the piazza, and among them a slight figure in white, looking very fair and delicate in the moonlight; then there would come the tinkling of a guitar, and sweet love-lays of Italy, or wild ballads of Spain. And thus it went on, till Ashley, the invisible listener, had become altogether enchanted, spell-bound—_in love with a voice_, till fast and far in the dim distance, faded away that late familiar vision in yellow oil-cloth and falling hood, and fair, kindling countenance. He now spent as many hours over his books as ever, but his thoughts, alas! were far enough from the page; for, to tell the truth, and expose his boyish folly, he was constantly dreaming out the form and features of the dear, unknown—of her with the voice. Unlike his former self, he now looked searchingly at the fair promenaders whom he met on the street, and he there saw pretty young ladies enough, but no one in whom he recognized his idea of the sweet singer. At length the hour of good fortune came alike to the physician and to the lover. Just at sunset, one pleasant evening, a young horseman came dashing up to Dr. Ashley’s office, to summon him to a lady who had dislocated her ankle in springing from her horse. Our hero’s heart beat quick as the messenger directed him to the house of Mr. N. The doctor was shown into a small parlor, where, on a lounge, clad in a white wrapper, reclined his first patient. A wealth of rich, golden hair, somewhat disheveled, first attracted Ashley’s eye; there was something strangely familiar in those bright curls, and he was not taken altogether by surprise when Mrs. N—— presented him to her niece, “_Miss Harley_.” The lady was lying with her hands over her face, to conceal the tears drawn forth by her acute suffering; but at the mention of the doctor’s name, she removed them, and looked up eagerly, smiling in the midst of her pain, with pleasure and surprise. But this was no time for more than a simple recognition, and the next moment saw the doctor bending professionally over the throbbing and swollen foot of the sufferer. The setting of the dislocated joint caused this young girl excruciating torture; but she bore herself through all with heroic patience—the silent resignation of a true woman. Yet when all was over—the ankle bound up, and a composing draught administered, as the doctor took leave of his interesting patient, he saw that her cheek was deathly pale, and that her lips quivered convulsively.