She found him in the hall, and brought him back triumphantly.
"Now we will all sit and talk for a long time," she said.

"You one side of me, Miss Falbe, and Michael the other.

Or would you be so kind as to sing for us?
Michael will play for you, and would it annoy you if I came and turned over the pages?
It would give me a great deal of pleasure to turn over for you, if you will just nod each time when you are ready." Sylvia got up.
"Why, of course," she said.

"What have you got, Michael?
I haven't anything with me." Michael found a volume of Schubert, and once again, as on the first time he had seen her, she sang "Who is Sylvia ?" while he played, and Lady Ashbridge had her eyes fixed now on one and now on the other of them, waiting for their nod to do her part; and then she wanted to sing herself, and with some far-off remembrance of the airs and graces of twenty-five years ago, she put her handkerchief and her rings on the top of the piano, and, playing for herself, emitted faint treble sounds which they knew to be "The Soldier's Farewell." Then presently her nurse came for her to lie down before dinner, and she was inclined to be tearful and refuse to go till Michael made it clear that it was his express and sovereign will that she should do so.

Then very audibly she whispered to him.