There was an abstracted look in her eyes as she raised them, and she seemed unconscious of the applause following the last chords of the accompaniment.

She stood up, folding the music as she did so, and unconsciously raised her eyes toward the port-hole where I was.

Her glance caught mine, and instantly a change passed over her face.

The effect of the song upon her was broken; she flushed slightly, and, as I thought, with faint annoyance.

I know of nothing so little complimentary to a singer as the audience that patronisingly listens outside a room or window,--not bound by any sense of duty as an audience,--between whom and the artists an unnatural barrier is raised.