As Eleanor gave utterance to her impassioned speech, the slightly mocking
smile with which she had been eyeing Lady Strangways died away, and was
replaced by an earnest, rapt look, which showed to her listener how
seriously she herself took every word she was saying.
Then Eleanor turned to the piano and ran her fingers lightly over the
keys. Lady Strangways nodded approvingly, as she listened to the firm,
good touch. The girl was really quite musical. She perceived that
already, and if her choice of a song had been less wildly ambitious, or
better still, if she would go on playing and not sing at all, why----
[Illustration: "ELEANOR TURNED TO THE PIANO AND RAN HER FINGERS
LIGHTLY OVER THE KEYS."]
But at that moment Eleanor began to sing, and the look of kindly approval
which Lady Strangways' face had worn was swept away as by some magic
touch, for Signor Vanucci and Madame Martelli had made no mistake.
Eleanor had a great, a glorious voice; clear and sweet as a golden bell;
full, and deep, and rich; it was a voice which would one day add the
name of its owner to the list of the world's great singers.
Lady Strangways recognised the fact instantly. Though she neither played
nor sang, she was a capable judge of music, and she knew that this girl's
voice would carry her to the front rank.
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