Beulah's eyes gave a momentary flash; but by a powerful effort she

curbed her anger and commenced the song.

It was amusing to mark the expression of utter astonishment which

gradually overspread Antoinette's face, as the magnificent voice of

her despised rival swelled in waves of entrancing melody through the

lofty rooms. Eugene looked quite as much amazed. Beulah felt her

triumph, and heartily enjoyed it. There was a sparkle in her eye and

a proud smile on her lip, which she did not attempt to conceal. As

she rose from the piano, Eugene caught her hand, and said eagerly: "I never dreamed of your possessing such a voice. It is superb--

perfectly magnificent! Why did not you tell me of it before?"

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"You heard it long ago, in the olden time," said she, withdrawing

her hand and looking steadily at him.

"Ah, but it has improved incredibly. You were all untutored then."

"It is the culture, then, not the voice itself? Eh, Eugene?"

"It is both. Who taught you?"

"I had several teachers, but owe what excellence I may possess to my

guardian. He aided me more than all the instruction books that ever

were compiled."

"You must come and practice with the musical people who meet here

very frequently," said Mrs. Graham.

"Thank you, madam; I have other engagements which will prevent my

doing so."

"Nonsense, Beulah; we have claims on you. I certainly have,"

answered Eugene.

"Have you? I was not aware of the fact."

There was a patronizing manner in all this which she felt no

disposition to submit to.

"Most assuredly I have, Beulah; and mean to maintain them."

She perfectly understand the haughty expression of his countenance,

and, moving toward the door, replied coldly: "Another time, Eugene, we will discuss them."

"Where are you going?" inquired Mrs. Graham rather stiffly.

"To Cornelia. The doctor came down a few minutes since."

She did not pause to hear what followed, but ran up the steps,

longing to get out of a house where she plainly perceived her

presence was by no means desired. Cornelia sat with her head drooped

on her thin hand, and, without looking up, said, more gently than

was her custom: "Why did you hurry back so soon?"

"Because the parlor was not particularly attractive."

There came the first good-humored laugh which Beulah had ever heard

from Cornelia's lips, as the latter replied: "What friends you and old growling Diogenes would have been! Pray,

how did my cousin receive your performance!"