"It's a real treat, I assure you," said Major Mitton, "to hear a toon. I don't pretend to be a great connoisseur, but I can enjoy a toon. Ah, they may say what they please, but there's no music like Italian music, and nobody can sing it like Italians." This led to some reminiscences of the major's garrison life in Malta; and to the mention of the _prima donna_ Bianca Moretti. Mrs. Bransby recognized this name as that of the heroine of Miss Piper's story, told at her dinner-party several months ago. "Oh, you have heard the Moretti?" said Valli. "Yes; she _could_ sing. By the way, I hear she is a kind of _marâtre_--how do you call it?--to that pretty Miss Cheffington." "Miss Cheffington? Oh, impossible!" "Pardon! Not at all impossible! I mean the young lady opposite, at the other end of the table, sitting between those two young men. I know one of them--the one with the blonde smooth head. I meet him in society. He is tremendously annoying--_nojoso_--what you call a bore." "That is Miss Cheffington, certainly. But you don't mean to say that Signora Moretti has married her father?" "Oh, married!" answered Valli, with a shrug. "She has been living with him for years; that is what I mean. I hear _la Bianca_ has grown steady now. But she had a _jeunesse pas mal orageuse_." Major Mitton tried to change the subject, glancing uneasily at Mrs. Bransby. But Valli was impervious to the hint. Not that he had any intention of outraging the proprieties, or any suspicion that he was doing so. Mrs. Bransby was not a _jeune meess_. He had heard of English cant and hypocrisy long before he came to England. But he had been agreeably surprised to find them conspicuous by their absence in the section of London fashionable society which he chiefly frequented. So he went on narrating anecdotes of _la Bianca_ and her adventures, until Mrs. Bransby rose, and quietly left the table. Upon this, Major Mitton and several other men drew closer to Valli. And the consequence was that, not only the mess-table, but other circles in Oldchester, were regaled the next day with some choice morsels of scandal, in which the name of Gus Cheffington figured conspicuously. But whatever might be the subsequent results of that talk, Miss Piper's musical party had undoubtedly turned out a great success. That night, when the sisters were alone together, they sat up for an hour discussing the events of the evening in a glow of pleasurable excitement. Every point was remembered and dwelt upon, but of course their interest centred in the song from "Esther." "It was a real triumph, Polly," said Miss Patty. "There can't be two opinions about that. But--there, I thought I wouldn't tell you; but I can't help it--I overheard Signor Valli and that Cleveland Turner, whom I never did like, and never shall, speaking of 'Hear, O King,' in a sneering, slighting manner."