Mr.Ingelow, on whose arm she leaned, led her to the piano at once.
"You sing, I know--Mrs.Walraven has told me.

Pray favor us with one song before some less gifted performer secures this vacant seat." "What shall it be ?" Mollie asked, running her white fingers over the keys.
"Whatever you please--whatever you like best.

I shall be sure to like it." Mollie sung brilliantly, and sung her best now.

There was dead silence; no one had expected such a glorious voice as this.

Hugh Ingelow's rapt face showed what he felt as Mollie rose.
"Miss Dane ought to go upon the stage; she would make her fortune," said a deep voice at her elbow.
She turned sharply round and met the dark, sinister eyes and pale face of Dr.Oleander.
"Miss Dane forgets me," he said, with a low bow, "among so many presentations.