A Face Illumined Part 21

"In mercy to us poor mortals for whom there is no escape save going to bed, please comply," whispered the old lady in her ear.

The light in Miss Burton's eyes was mirthful rather than sacred as she rose and went to the piano, and at once an air of breezy and interested expectancy took the place of the previous bored expression.

"Come, Van," said Stanton, throwing away his cigar, "we'll need your tenor voice. We must stand by that little woman. The Chints tribe have incited to profanity long enough, and shall make the night hideous no more. If we could only drown them instead of their voices, what a mercy it would be!" and the young men went around and stood in the open door near the piano.

"You are to sing," said Miss Burton, with a decided little nod at them.

"We intend to," replied Stanton, "since you are to accompany us."

She started "Coronation," that spirited and always inspiriting battle song of the church--jubilant and militant--a melody that is also admirably adapted for blending rough and inharmonious voices.

For a moment her own voice was like that of a singing lark, mounting from its daisy covert; or rather, like the flow of a silver rill whose music was soon lost, however, in the tumultuous rush of other tributary streams of sound; still, the general effect was good, and the people enjoyed it. By the time the second stanza was reached the majority were singing with hearty good-will, the children gathering near and joining in with delight.

Other familiar and old-fas.h.i.+oned hymns followed, and then one and another began to ask for their favorites. Fortunately Mrs. Chints's knowledge of sacred music was limited, and so she retired on the laurels of having called Miss Burton out, informing half the company of the fact with an important nod; and in remembrance of this fact they were inclined to forgive her the anguish she had personally caused them.

Mrs. Burleigh, who had stolen into the parlor for a little while that she might enjoy the singing, remembered that she had a pile of note-books that had grown dusty on a shelf since the baby had furnished the music of the household. These were brought, and higher and fuller musical themes were attempted, until the singers dwindled to a quartet composed of a lady who had a fair soprano voice, Miss Burton, Stanton and Van Berg. Their selections, however, continued truly sacred in character, thus differing radically from the florid style that Mrs. Chints had introduced.

The sweet and penetrating power of Miss Burton's voice could now be distinguished. For some reason it thrilled and touched its hearers in a way that they could not account for. The majority present at once realized that she was not, and never could become, a great singer. But within the compa.s.s of her voice, she could p.r.o.nounce sacred words in a manner that send them home to the hears of the listeners like rays that could both cheer and melt.

At last she rose from the piano, remarking that there were other musicians present; and no amount of persuasion could induce her to remain there any longer.

"Perhaps you gentlemen play," she said, turning to the young men who were about to depart. "A man's touch and leaders.h.i.+p is so much more decisive and vigorous than a lady's!"

"Mr. Van Berg plays very well indeed, considering his youth and diffidence!" remarked Stanton.

"And he has been taking advantage of a defenceless woman all this time! Mr. Van Berg, if you do not wish to lose your character utterly, you must take my place at the piano."

"I admit," he replied, "that I have taken more pleasure than you will believe in your in your contribution to our evening's enjoyment, but rather than lose your good opinion I will attempt to play or sing anything you dictate, even though I put every one in the parlor to flight, with their fingers in their ears."

"And you fear my taste will impose on you some such blood-curdling combination of sounds? Thank you."

"Now, Van, you have taught us what unconditional surrender means.

Miss Burton, ask him to play and sing some selections from the Oratorio of the Messiah."

"Are you familiar with that?" she asked, with a sudden lighting up of her face.

"Somewhat so, only as an amateur can be; but I see, from your expression, that you are."

"I've contributed my share this evening," she said, decisively.

"Please give us some selections from the Oratorio."

"Lay your command, then, on Stanton also. There's a part that we have sung together as a duet occasionally, although it is not 'so nominated in the bond,' or score, rather."

"If Mr. Stanton does not stand by his friend, then he should be left to stand by himself."

"In the corner, I suppose you mean. But do not leave, Miss Burton.

If you do not stand by Mr. Van Berg and sing with him the duet that begins with the words--

'O death! where is thy sting?'

you will deprive us all of the chief pleasure of the evening, and it's not in your nature to do that."

"Please, please do, Miss Burton," cried a score of voices.

"You know nothing about my nature, sir. I a.s.sure you that I can be a veritable dragon. But out of regard for Mr. Van Berg's 'youth and diffidence' I will sustain him."

Van Berg's voice was not strong, but he sang with taste and good expression. It suggested refinement and culture rather than deep, repressed feeling, as had been the case in Miss Burton's singing.

His style would be admired, and would not give much occasion for criticism, but, as a general thing, it would not stir and move the heart. Still, the audience gave close and pleased attention.

Ida Mayhew, who all this time had been out on the piazza and but half listening to Mr. Sibley's compliments in her attention to the scenes at the piano, now rose and came to one of the open windows, where, while hidden from the singer, she could hear more distinctly.

Her features did not indicate that she shared in the pleasure expressed on the other faces within, and her gathering frown was deepened by the shadow of the window frame.

"You do not enjoy it!" said Mr. Sibley, complacently.

"No," she answered, laconically; but for reasons he little understood.

"Now you show your taste, Miss Mayhew."

"I fear I do. Hus.h.!.+" But when Van Berg's solo ended, she breathed a deep sigh.

Then Stanton's rich, but uncultivated ba.s.s voice joined in the melody. Still the effect was better tahn would have been expected from amateurs. After a few moments, Stanton stood back and Miss Burton and Van Berg sang together; then every one leaned forward and listened with a breathless hush. Her voice seemed to pervade his with sould and feeling that had been lacking hitherto.

As the last rich chords died away, the strongest expression of pleasure were heard on every side; but Ida Mayhew stepped abruptly out into the dusk of the piazza with clenched hands and compressed lips.

"'Peste!'" she exclaimed under her breath. "What a contrast between Sibley and myself last evening and these two people to-night! What a worse contrast there might have been if Ik had not interfered in time! I have a good voice, but the guests of the house have not even thought of me in connection with this evening's entertainment.

I am a.s.sociated only with the Sibley style of amus.e.m.e.nts."

Chapter XVII. New Forces Developing.

After Mr. Van Berg and Miss Burton finished the selection from the Oratorio mentioned in the previous chapter, the old white-haired gentleman at whose side the latter had been sitting in the earlier part of the evening rose and said:

"I want to thank all the singers, and especially the young lady and gentleman now at the piano, not only for the pleasure they have given us all, but also for the comforting and sustaining thoughts that the sacred words have suggested. My enjoyments in this world are but few, and are fast diminis.h.i.+ng; and I know that they will not refuse an old man's request that they close this service of song by each singing along some hymn that will strengthen our faith in the unseen Friend who watches over us all."

Van Berg looked at Miss Burton.

"We cannot refuse such an appeal," she said.

"I fear that I shall seem a hypocrite in complying," Van Berg answered, in a low tone. "How can I make a distinctly recognized effort to strengthen faith in others when lacking faith myself."

Her eyes flashed up to his, in sudden and strong approval. "I like that," she said. "It always gives me a sense of security and safety when I meet downright honesty. In no way can you better strengthen our faith than by being perfectly true. You give me a good example of sincerity," she added slowly, "and perhaps my hymn will teach submission more than faith. While I am singing it you may find something that will not express more than you feel."