"
Mary turned at the sound of his philanthropic voice, and gave him one
of those glances which go immediately to the soul.
"Come, Miss Beaufort," cried he, taking her hand; "I see the young
musician yonder who has so recently astonished the public. I believe
he is going to sing. Let us leave this discordant corner, and seek
harmony by his side."
Mary gladly acceded to his request, and seating herself a few paces
from the musical party, Berrington took his station behind her chair.
When the last melting notes of "From shades of night" died upon her
ear, Mary's eyes, full of admiration and transport, which the power
of association rendered more intense, remained fixed on the singer.
Lord Berrington smiled at the vivid expression of her countenance,
and as the young Orpheus moved from the instrument, exclaimed, "Come,
Miss Beaufort, I won't allow you quite to fancy Braham the god on
whom
Enamored Clitie turned and gazed!
[Footnote: This accomplished singer and composer still lives--one of
the most admired ornaments of the British orchestra.--1845.]
Listen a little to my merits. Do you know that if it were not for my
timely lectures, Lascelles would grow the most insufferable gossip
about town? There is not a match nor a divorce near St. James's of
which he cannot repeat all the whys and wherefores. I call him Sir
Benjamin Backbite; and I believe he hates me worse than Asmodeus
himself.
Pages:
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421