demure little shadow, who looked back in amaze and was about to speak when Miss Belinda proceeded. “My visits usually have been on business; I should not think of troubling Mrs. Sylvester.” And then he knew that his wife had been aware of those visits if he had not.
But he refrained from testifying to his discovery. “You speak of music,” said he, turning gently back to Paula. “Have you a taste for it? Would it make you happy to hear such music as your aunt tells about?”
“O yes, I can conceive nothing grander than to sit in a church whose every line is beauty and listen while the great organ utters its song of triumph or echoes in the wonderful way it does, the emotions you have tried to express and could not. I would give a whole week of my life on the hills, dear as it is, for one such hour, I think.”