homedans would ever pull together, if either party were to fall out with their masters. And I suppose luck will befriend us in the future as it has in the past. Still a little tighter discipline and a few more European troops would not be bad precautions. But of course," said the colonel, turning towards him with a smile, "I don't want these doubts to go any further. We must put a good face on matters, whatever we may think about them."
"But surely," said Yorke, "holding these views, it would be proper for you at least to urge them on the government."
"Who? I? Oh no; that would be of no use. The headquarter people would pooh-pooh the advice of an alarmist civilian, as they would call me, and would say that they have as good opportunities for judging of these matters as he has, which is quite true, though whether they make use of them is another matter."
After dinner, as soon as the gentlemen came into the drawing-room. Miss Cunningham asked Captain Sparrow, who was of the party, to sing — which, after a little pressing, he consented to do, the lady accompanying him. Captain Sparrow had a tenor voice, which might have been pronounced sweet in quality, only that there was very little of it to judge by, and sang airs from the Italian opera of the more sentimental kind, delivered with a sort of caricature of stage manner, the retardations extra slow, the pathos extra pathetic. As he sang, with one hand resting on the piano and the other on his hip — his hair parted in the middle, a loosely-tied black ribbon under his turned-down collar, his eyes cast down, and face expressing all the pathos which could not find utterance through the voice, while the fair accompanist placidly followed all the changes of time in the performance — Yorke felt as by instinct that although she was perfectly grave and polite, and there was no trace of irony in her thanks to the singer when the performance was concluded, any remaining fear of rivalry in that quarter might now safely be dismissed.
"And now, Miss Cunningham, won't you sing something yourself," said the captain, "especially after I have set you so good an example? I am sure you will be in good voice to-night. There is something in the air conducive to song. I felt it myself."
Just then Yorke came up, and Sparrow moved off, to receive the thanks of the rest of the company.
"Are you fond of music, Mr. Yorke?" asked the lady.
"I should like above everything to hear you sing," replied the young fellow.
"How can you tell you will not be disappointed when you hear me?" she said, with a laugh and slight blush, as she stooped to turn over the loose pieces of music on the stand.
"No, no," rejoined the young man with ardour; "there is no doubt about it. Heaven gave you a sweet voice, and it gave you" — every other charm, he was going to add; but checking himself, continued, "besides, you must know that your fame has preceded you."
Miss Cunningham said nothing in reply, but looking downwards seated herself at the instrument and began to sing. Nor had rumour exaggerated her powers. She sang with the taste and finish given by Italian teaching, while her voice was like her speaking voice, low and rich, and expressing a sort of unconscious pathos, as if asking what romantic fate awaited its possessor in the future.
She sang two songs, the young lover standing by entranced, turning over the pages; one Italian, full of repressed passion — one German, kindling subtle, undefinable emotions. Then at his request she sang a third time; after which, some of the guests who had meanwhile been scattered about the room came up to express their thanks. But presently the two were left alone again, for the room was a very large one, and the young lady still sitting on the music-stool turned round.
"Do you really think," said she, "that the sepoys are not to be trusted? Perhaps I ought not to ask such a question from you; but your men, now, they look such simple honest fellows, and papa seems to have the most perfect confidence in them."
"I would answer for them with my life," replied the young man, earnestly.
"I like to hear you speak like that," said the young lady, with animation; "there is something to my mind quite revolting in discussing the character and loyalty of our soldiers in this way, whether their faces are light or dark."
As she looked up at him with a gleam of admiration in her dark eyes, the young man felt ready to throw himself at her feet in a transport of love. For him to worship her was only natural; but that she should regard him as worthy of respect seemed altogether beyond his de-
