and on closer inspection I found his complexion quite as perfect and his features quite as regular as they had seemed when there was distance between us.
"You do not appear to be enjoying yourself, Miss Bouverie," he said in soft, musical tones.
"I am not indeed," I answered, vexed that he had been able to read my feelings so easily. "I think musical evenings are detestable."
"Query: Is this a musical evening?" Mr. Ravener sank his voice to a whisper, and I laughed outright. The ice was broken.
We entered upon a conversation which was thoroughly delightful, to me at any rate. I found that Arthur Ravener was fond of music, and understood it thoroughly. He asked who were my favorite composers. I told him that I had never been allowed to have any favorites. I had been dosed with Brinley Richards, Sydney Smith and Kuhe, and the effect had been extremely injurious. I liked to hear classical music. It did not weary me in the least; in fact, if I had been properly educated, I might have proved a fairly competent musician.
