One hand rested gently on the shoulder of the girl at the piano, and with this she seemed to keep time, pressing gently on the shoulder of the performer to stimulate her zeal.

And that hand was delicious! A hymn by Palestrina had succeeded the Bach prelude.

It was a quartette, to which two new voices lent their aid.

The old priest laid aside his violoncello, stood up, took off his spectacles, and his deep bass completed the full measure of the melody.
After the quartette followed a few moments of general conversation, during which--after embracing the child pianist, who immediately left the room--the songstress walked to the window.

She leaned out as if to breathe the fresh air, and her profile was sharply relieved against the bright light behind her, in which the others formed a group around the priest, who once more donned his spectacles, and drew from his pocket a paper that appeared to be a manuscript.
The lady leaned from the window, gently fanning herself, as she looked now at the sky, now at the dark landscape.