Lali's heart fluttered a little at first, for the day had been trying,
and she was not as strong as she could wish. Admirably as she had gone
through the season, it had worn on her, and her constitution had become
sensitive and delicate, while yet strong. The life had almost refined
her too much. Always on the watch that she should do exactly as Marion
or Mrs. Armour, always so sensitive as to what was required of her,
always preparing for this very time, now that it had come, and her heart
and mind were strong, her body seemed to weaken. Once or twice during
the day she had felt a little faint, but it had passed off, and she had
scolded herself. She did not wish a serious talk with her husband
to-night, but she saw now that it was inevitable.
He said to her as he sat down beside her: "You sing very well indeed.
The song is full of meaning, and you bring it all out."
"I am glad you like it," she responded conventionally. "Of course it's
an unusual song for an English drawing-room.
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