What could be amiss with this mysterious youth?
Would he come again on the following Sunday?
And come again he did, and now they greeted one another like old acquaintances.
"Look ye, madam," said the young gentleman, with a mournful countenance, "ten years ago I had a sweetheart, a betrothed, who used to sing the 'Stabat Mater' with just such a beautiful voice; it makes me actually think that I can hear her now.

She died on the very day fixed for our wedding.

On her death-bed she made me promise that if ever I found a poor young lady who could sing these divine canticles with just such a beautiful voice as she had, I was, in memory of her, to devote every year the sum of three thousand florins to enable such young lady to cultivate to the utmost her noble art, and thus secure for herself a happy future.

I only imposed one condition before consenting to my betrothed's desire: I insisted that the young lady in question should be just as pure, just as innocent, as was my beloved, my never-to-be-forgotten Maria!" And the young man again applied his pocket-handkerchief to his eyes.
"What genuine grief!" thought the old lady to herself.
"I must regretfully confess, madam," pursued the young dandy, in a shaky voice, "that I have not been able to carry out the desire of my deceased bride.

So far as natural gifts are concerned, there were heaps and heaps of candidates, but in the way of virtue they all failed me.