.
"I sang and played my best last night, my very, very best; indeed, I don't think I ever did so well before, and perhaps never shall again.

He was moved--more moved than I meant him to be, and I was moved myself.
I suppose that it was the surroundings; that old chapel--how well those monks understood acoustic properties--the moonlight, the upset to my nerves this afternoon, my fear that he believed that I had accepted Mr.
L.( imagine his believing that! I thought better of him, and he _did_ believe it)--everything put together.
"While I was singing he told me that he was going away--to see Miss Porson at Beaulieu, I suppose.

When I had finished--oh! how tired I was after the effort was over--he asked me straight out if I intended to marry Mr.Layard, and I asked him if he was mad! Then I put another question, I don't know why; I never meant to do it, but it came up from my heart--whether he had not said that he was going away?
In answer he explained that he was thinking of so doing, but had changed his mind.
Oh! I was pleased when I heard that.

I was never so pleased in my life before.

After all, the gift of music is of some use.
"But why should I have been pleased?
Mr.Monk's comings or goings are nothing to me; I have no right to interfere with them, even indirectly, or to concern myself about them.