“You are very considerate and kind,” said Lieutenant Thornton, surprised, but determined in his own mind to let things take their own course, and no longer to persist in thwarting the kind and generous efforts of his friends to serve him. The next three or four days passed with our hero like magic. Monsieur Plessis was backwards and forwards at Havre, investigating the affair of the brigands. Madame Plessis he found an extremely agreeable, amiable woman, not more than six-and-thirty. With the two young ladies all restraint had vanished; Mademoiselle Julia was a lively and charming girl, with an abundance of agreeable chatter of Parisian life. She played the piano well, and sang all the newest Parisian opera airs, declaring at the same time that she was making the most of herself, and that as soon as he heard Mademoiselle de Tourville play and sing it would be all up with her. As yet Marie de Tourville had resisted all attempts to induce her to either touch the piano or harp; there was a singular timidity in her manner, a degree of agitation very evident to our hero, but unaccountable, when speaking or conversing with him. However, when she addressed him, her voice was soft and even affectionate, though there was less of freedom in her manner than in Julia’s. The fourth or fifth day this restraint began to wear off. She received letters from Paris, her manner altered visibly, and her spirits seemed changed. She ventured to meet the dark eyes of our hero, and one evening he induced her to seat herself at the harp, and favour him with an Italian cansonetta. Though her voice trembled a little at the commencement, it gradually gained power and depth, and its rich, full tones thrilled through the hearer’s heart. When concluded, Lieutenant Thornton sat actually enthralled, so powerfully had the tones of her voice awakened some dream of the past. “Ah!” exclaimed Julia Plessis, “I told you, monsieur, how it would be; adieu to my performance. But I can bear it, for in truth, Marie, you have a marvellous flexibility, and a wonderful modulation of tone.” “You so completely fascinated me, mademoiselle,” said Lieutenant Thornton, “that I was unable at once to express my delight and thank you; if there is any one accomplishment above all others that a female can possess to perfection, I love that of singing. It has always had a strange charm over me. I do think that even in the fiercest strife it would disarm me.” “Well, that is strange,” said Madame Plessis, looking up from a piece of fancy work she was amusing herself with. “I knew a lady that became so powerfully affected by music when well and skilfully played, and the human voice added, that she invariably fainted.” “Then I should think, mamma,” said Julia, laughing, “that she carefully shunned such sirens as Mademoiselle de Tourville.” “No, indeed,” returned the mother, “music had such a fascination, that she eagerly sought the society of those who excelled in that accomplishment.”