The Canoness stood still a moment, apparently gazing at a wide, radiant prospect with a rapt expression I had never seen on her face before. "I would have been an artist, an actor, or a singer," she said, softly. "An actor?" I replied, scarcely concealing my horror. "What do you discover so terrible in that?" she asked, with a slight, sarcastic smile. "Is it not a magnificent thing to embody the characters of a great author, to cast noble, beautiful thoughts among the throng of breathless listeners? But perhaps you know nothing about it. You believe the theatre to be a sink of iniquity, like so many of your class. I can only pity you. I have neither the desire nor the power to convert you to a better view." "And where were you yourself converted?" "Oh, I--I, like you, was reared to loathe this so-called jugglery. But, three years ago, I spent several months in Berlin. An old aunt, who was very fond of me, sent for me because she was entirely alone. Uncle Joachim took me to her. There I spent the happiest period of my life, and there the scales fell from my eyes." "If those are your views, have you never felt tempted to become a singer?" I inquired. "With your beautiful voice and love for music--" "No," she answered, firmly, "as a girl I should never have ventured into that career. For the very reason that music lies so near my heart, I should feel it a desecration to be compelled to come forward and reveal my inmost soul to strangers, who had paid for tickets. Perhaps, if I had true genius, it would bear me above all such scruples. And yet the greatest singer I ever heard, Milder--have you heard Milder?" I was forced to confess I had never entered an opera-house. "Well, then, we will say no more about the matter," she replied. "You could not understand me. But I pity you." Yet she did tell me more of her experiences in Berlin. She had heard Milder in some of Gluck's operas and in "The Vestal," and described her appearance, her figure, her execution; then, assuming a majestic attitude, she herself sang several passages which had specially touched her. Her fair face flushed crimson, and her eyes sparkled. I believe it was on that evening that she enthralled my heart forever. Not a word was exchanged between us concerning the events of the afternoon or of my sermon. But I was too happy to find that she gave me her confidence so far, not to forget myself and my petty vanity. We rambled over the fields for an hour, until it grew perfectly dark, and returned to the castle just at tea-time. The Canoness had arranged her bouquet very gracefully and laid it beside her aunt's cup, who patted her arm with a grateful glance. She looked past her uncle into vacancy, without moving a muscle. The latter was in the worst possible humor, which he even vented on Mademoiselle Suzon during the game of chess.