But her own excitement prevented much notice of his; for Rose was in a flutter of hope and fear, sympathy and delight, about Phebe and her success. The house was crowded; the audience sufficiently mixed to make the general opinion impartial; and the stage full of little orphans with shining faces, a most effective reminder of the object in view. "Little dears, how nice they look!" "Poor things, so young to be fatherless and motherless." "It will be a disgrace to the city, if those girls are not taken proper care of." "Subscriptions are always in order, you know; and pretty Miss Campbell will give you her sweetest smile if you hand her a handsome check." "I've heard this Phebe Moore, and she really has a delicious voice: such a pity she won't fit herself for opera!" "Only sings three times to-night; that's modest I'm sure, when she is the chief attraction; so we must give her an encore after the Italian piece." "The orphans lead off, I see: stop your ears if you like; but don't fail to applaud, or the ladies will never forgive you." Chat of this sort went on briskly, while fans waved, programmes rustled, and ushers flew about distractedly; till an important gentleman appeared, made his bow, skipped upon the leader's stand, and with a wave of his bâton caused a general uprising of white pinafores, as the orphans led off with that much-enduring melody, "America," in shrill small voices, but with creditable attention to time and tune. Pity and patriotism produced a generous round of applause; and the little girls sat down, beaming with innocent satisfaction. An instrumental piece followed, and then a youthful gentleman, with his hair in picturesque confusion, and what his friends called a "musical brow," bounded up the steps, and, clutching a roll of music with a pair of tightly gloved hands, proceeded to inform the audience, in a husky tenor voice, that "It was a lovely violet." What else the song contained in the way of sense or sentiment it was impossible to discover; as the three pages of music appeared to consist of variations upon that one line, ending with a prolonged quaver, which flushed the musical brow, and left the youth quite breathless when he made his bow. "Now she's coming! O uncle, my heart beats as if it was myself!" whispered Rose, clutching Dr. Alec's arm with a little gasp, as the piano was rolled forward, the leader's stand pushed back, and all eyes turned toward the anteroom door.