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A voice so sweetly modulated that if there were any sarcasm in the words it was lost in the softness of pathos, answered, "Nay, Monsieur Louvier, he rather overtasks the words at my command in thankfulness to those who like yourself, so kindly regard me as something else than a singer." It was not the she-mountebank who thus spoke. Graham rose and looked round with instinctive curiosity.
Colonel Morley handed Isaura to her carriage; the she-mountebank again fell to the lot of Graham. "Signor," said she, as he respectfully placed her shawl round her scarlet-and-gilt jacket, "are we so far from Paris that you cannot spare the time to call? My child does not sing in public, but at home you can hear her. It is not every woman's voice that is sweetest at home."
A voice so sweetly modulated that if there were any sarcasm in the words it was lost in the softness of pathos, answered, "Nay, Monsieur Louvier, he rather overtasks the words at my command in thankfulness to those who like yourself, so kindly regard me as something else than a singer." It was not the she-mountebank who thus spoke. Graham rose and looked round with instinctive curiosity.
"Bon Dieu! that horrid fat man has deserted Signora Venosta, looking for his own cloak, I dare say; selfish monster! Go and hand her to her carriage; quick, it is announced!" Graham, thus ordered, hastened to offer his arm to the she-mountebank. Somehow she had acquired dignity in his eyes, and he did not feel the least ashamed of being in contact with the scarlet jacket.
To add to Vane's displeasure, she was dressed in a costume wholly antagonistic to his views of the becoming, in a Greek jacket of gold and scarlet, contrasted by a Turkish turban. Muttering "What she-mountebank have we here?" he sank into a chair behind the door, and fell into an absorbed revery.
"Bon Dieu! that horrid fat man has deserted Signora Venosta, looking for his own cloak, I dare say; selfish monster! Go and hand her to her carriage; quick, it is announced!" Graham, thus ordered, hastened to offer his arm to the she-mountebank. Somehow she had acquired dignity in his eyes, and he did not feel the least ashamed of being in contact with the scarlet jacket.
To add to Vane's displeasure, she was dressed in a costume wholly antagonistic to his views of the becoming, in a Greek jacket of gold and scarlet, contrasted by a Turkish turban. Muttering "What she-mountebank have we here?" he sank into a chair behind the door, and fell into an absorbed revery.
Colonel Morley handed Isaura to her carriage; the she-mountebank again fell to the lot of Graham. "Signor," said she, as he respectfully placed her shawl round her scarlet-and-gilt jacket, "are we so far from Paris that you cannot spare the time to call? My child does not sing in public, but at home you can hear her. It is not every woman's voice that is sweetest at home."
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