And then came the voice....
The reaction after the romp last night went out like a snuffed candle
at this divine singing, which was charged with the joyfulness of some
heavenly child. It grew low and soft, it rang out again, it lingered
and tarried, it quickened into the ultimate triumph. No singing could
have been simpler, but that simplicity could only have sprung from the
highest art. But now the art was wholly unconscious; it was part of the
singer who but praised God as the thrushes do. She who had made gaiety
last night, made worship this morning.
As they sat down for the discourse, Colonel Boucher discreetly
whispered to Georgie "By Jove." And Georgie rather more audibly
answered "Adorable." Mrs Weston drew a half-a-crown from her purse
instead of her usual shilling, to be ready for the offertory, and Mrs
Quantock wondered if she was too old to learn to sing.
Georgie found Lucia very full of talk that day at luncheon, and was
markedly more Italian than usual. Indeed she put down an Italian
grammar when he entered the drawing-room, and covered it up with the
essays of Antonio Caporelli. This possibly had some connection with the
fact that she had encouraged Olga last night with regard to her
pronunciation.
"_Ben arrivato, Georgio_," she said. "_Ho finito il libro di
Antonio Caporelli quanta memento. E magnifico!_"
Georgie thought she had finished it long ago, but perhaps he was
mistaken.
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