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"There, father, read it." The old man took the paper and handed it to Leonora. "Read it to us, my child," he said, tenderly. "I like best to hear from your lips what the king says to his people." Leonora took the paper and read as follows, with crimson cheeks, and her heart aglow with enthusiasm: "To my People!
Such were the unpleasant consequences of the struggle between duty and inclination in the bosom of Miss Leonora; and, save for other unforeseen events which decided the matter for her, it is not by any means so certain as, judging from her character, it ought to have been, that duty would have won the day. Frank Wentworth once more went up Grange Lane, a thoughtful and a sober man.
W. H. Fry, who was not only a writer on political and musical subjects, but a composer, who wrote an opera, "Leonora," in which Mme. La Grange sang at the Academy about a year and a half later. His review of the first performance of "La Traviata," which appeared in the Tribune of December 5, 1856, is worth reading for more reasons than one:
My mother died when I was eight years old, and my father allowed me to be continually with my Aunt Leonora and be taught under her eyes, as if he had not minded the danger of her encouraging my wish to be a singer, as she had been. But this was it I saw it again and again in my father: he did not guard against consequences, because he felt sure he could hinder them if he liked.
He might have stuck it out otherwise but the thought that he had lost Nancy and that, in addition, there was nothing left for him but a dreary, dreary succession of days in which he could be of no public service... Well, it finished him. It was during those years that Leonora tried to get up a love affair of her own with a fellow called Bayham a decent sort of fellow. A really nice man.
Leonora comprehended her mother's sad position, yet she never held her father responsible. Men were made so, with a necessity for wickedness; some day she would be called upon to marry such a man, and suffer patiently, without scandal, a similar experience with vice.
So there was no mistaking the sob she let go as she went desolately away along the corridor. But Leonora was still going to play up. She opened the door of Ashburnham's room quite ostentatiously, so that Florence should hear her address Edward in terms of intimacy and liking. "Edward," she called. But there was no Edward there. You understand that there was no Edward there.
After his father's death in 1484, he visited Mantua, and brought Duchess Leonora a Madonna painted by the hand of the great Paduan master, Andrea Mantegna, the court painter of the Gonzagas.
There was one story called 'Leonora' that went on for years and years, till all the little children in it and the little children who listened to it were almost grown up; and then great-grandmamma always carried about with her a wonderful blue-silk bag full of treasures, which we used to be allowed to turn out whenever any of us had been quite good at our lessons for a whole week."
"That is true," said Leonora; "but this señor must first of all swear, that when he is inside here he will not attempt to do anything but sing and play when he is asked, and that he will keep close and quiet wherever we may put him." "I swear to this," said Loaysa.
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