There was such power, such pathos, such passion, in her voice that no one could listen to it unmoved.
Then, when she had sung until my very senses were steeped in the sweet madness of her music, she would come and sit, sometimes by my side, sometimes on a Turkish cushion at my feet.
And then--well, I do not like to say more, but as women can woo, she wooed me.

Sometimes her hand, so warm and soft, would touch mine; sometimes, to see what I was reading, she would bend over me until her hair brushed my cheek and the perfume of the flowers she always wore reached me.
Thank God, I say again, that I was shielded by a pure love.
"How I love Crown Anstey!" she said to me one evening; "if I were asked to choose between being crowned Queen of Great Britain or mistress of Crown Anstey, I should prefer to remain here." How well I remember that evening! The golden summer was dying then; the flowers seemed to be yielding all their sweetest perfumes to it; there was a lovely light from the evening sky that lingered on the tufted lime trees; the birds were singing a faint, sweet vesper hymn; the time so soon was coming when they were to cross the sunny seas in search of warmer climes.
I had been reading to Clare, but she did not seem to be quite so well and asked to be left alone.
"Let Coralie play and sing for you, Edgar," she said; "I shall hear the faint sound of it, and it will make me happy, because I shall know you are well amused." I did not like to tell her how distasteful Coralie's playing and singing were to me.

We went into the drawing-room together.
I saw how everything was prepared for me; there were fresh flowers, my favorite periodicals, my favorite chair, placed in the nook I liked best.
"I shall sing to you some gay French chansons," said Coralie, "and we will leave the door open so that Clare may hear them." A few moments later and I was in an atmosphere of delight.

The rich, sweet music rose and fell; it cheered me like strong wine.
Then after a time its character changed; it was no longer gay, triumphant and mirthful.

The very spirit of love and pathos seemed to breathe through it.