She was too young to be theatrical, or even sentimental, so nothing was forced--all gushed.

Her little mouth seemed the mouth of Nature.

The ditty, too, was as pure as its utterance.

As there were none of those false divisions--those whining slurs, which are now sold so dear by Italian songsters, though every jackal in India delivers them gratis to his customers all night, and sometimes gets shot for them, and always deserves it--so there were no cadences and fiorituri, the trite, turgid, and feeble expletives of song, the skim-milk with which mindless musicians and mindless writers quench fire, wash out colour, and drown melody and meaning dead.
While the pure and tender strain was flowing from the pure young throat, Gerard's eyes filled.

The Countess watched him with interest, for it was usual to applaud the Princess loudly, but not with cheek and eye.
So when the voice ceased, and the glasses left off ringing, she asked demurely, "Was he content ?" Gerard gave a little start; the spoken voice broke a charm and brought him back to earth.
"Oh, madam!" he cried, "surely it is thus that cherubs and seraphs sing, and charm the saints in heaven." "I am somewhat of your opinion, my young friend," said the Countess, with emotion; and she bent a look of love and gentle pride upon her girl: a heavenly look, such as, they say, is given to the eye of the short-lived resting on the short-lived.
The Countess resumed: "My old friend request me to be serviceable to you.