 Chapter 4 of The Mute Singer by Anna Koromawit Ritchie This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kelly Taylor Chapter 4 launched Sylvie had never beheld Maitre Bujo more nervously irritable than on the morning of the eventful day when her powers were to be gauged before the tribunal of public taste. Now he declared that she sang as though her heart were ice and her voice frosty air. Anon he complained that she exaggerated. She was too floored, too fiery, too dramatic. When she became embarrassed by these unusual criticism he charged her with affectation and wounded vanity. Hereafter his instructions had never alluded to the absence or presence of emotion but had developed her magnificent voice and perfected her fine ear as though he ignored that they were instruments for the soul's melodious expression. She had been wholly unconscious of the depth of feeling that often found utterance upon her lips. Its manifestations was untremeditated and untutored. Maitre Bujo's pitiless chiding now inspired her with a strong dread that he had overrated her talents and her heart sank until she grew deadly sick and then it seemed to mount into her throat and stifle the swelling notes. This was the first time that her noble organ had been impaired by the least approach to huskiness. Maitre Bujo in almost frantic amazement ceased playing to dive into his snuffbox and, having nearly impeded his respiration with its stimulating contents, he sought comfort in torturing his moustache with tugs which threatened its total uprooting. He found further relief in roundly scolding Sylvie for her lack of composure without once suspecting that he himself had destroyed her mental equilibrium. The young girl made no reply, but her whole frame shook with repressed agitation. Prematory symptoms of hysteric as I live! I know the signs and foresee what's coming! cried the teacher, scanning her with indignant glances. If we are to be indulged with a hysterical farce tonight, I am ruined, that's all! And he dodgedly closed the piano and rose from his seat. Sylvie strove in vain to choke down a sob. Maitre Bujo responded to it with a fierce growl and ordered her to sting no more that day and not to weary herself with exertion of any kind, yet not to lie down for fear of clogging her voice and not to eat except very sparingly and then hurried out of the room. The two last were the most superfluous commands. She was a stranger to the luxurious habit of reposing when the sun was up and the frugal fare of poverty was not likely to temper her appetite. The white dress was completed some hours before it was needed. Madame de La Roche sat beside the bed where it lay, smoothing out the falls and mourning over the recollections it awakened of her happy maidenhood when she had worn just such attire, while Ursul constantly interrupted her reminiscences by suggestions for improvement of Sylvie's severely simple toilette. A little simple jewellery is really indispensable. It will keep people from suspecting that she is so very poor. Have you no ornaments, no trinkets? As may be imagined, the answer was in the negative. And have you nothing to wear in your hair, Sylvie? Something bright might improve your looks. I fear not, replied Sylvie quietly, and I would rather not try the experiment. Maître Bourgeois would tell you that my looks are a hopeless case, and today my heart is hardly full enough of hope to contradict them. The kind dressmaker was not satisfied. She went to her own apartment and huddled over all the humble treasures she had hoarded up for years. By and by she returned with a cashpin, a breastknot full of scarlet ribbons she had herself worn upon festive occasions long, long ago, before the snow of life's winter fell upon her hair and the chill of disappointment on her heart. She had also brought a large cameo brooch, the setting of very doubtful gold, and the cutting very undoubtedly excrual, also a large buckle, and a pair of very barbarous-looking gold hoops for the ears which she declared would give great character to Sylvie's face. Sylvie's ears had been pierced in her childhood, but her juvenile earrings of bright red coral had long since been converted into red. Sylvie was very loath to wound her warm-hearted friend, but good taste prompted her to reject the grotesque-looking additions to her attire. Ursul next insisted upon displaying her skill as a hairdresser, and what combing and brushing and braiding Sylvie's abundant tresses underwent. An hour was consumed in the task, then the fiery cash-pigna was fastened over those shining braids, and Ursul declared that her labours had produced a marvellous result. Sylvie glanced in the small mirror, which Ursul triumphantly held up before her and could not admitting that her coiffure spoke the exact truth. The effect of her handiwork was so marvellous that the young girl-hearted recognized her own countenance. The mirror seemed mockingly to reflect some ludicrous caricature of the face she had been accustomed to see. When she involuntarily raised her hand to remove the hideous red bows, which covered not only her hair but half her head, Ursul pleaded so hard that they might remain undisturbed that Sylvie hesitated, and rather than cause her zealous friend mortification, came very near relenting. Just then a timid knock called Madame de la Roche to the door. The hunchback stood without. They say that Madame Sylvie is going to sing at Count Castellane's tonight. She'll want flowers. All grandlady's wear flowers. Nanette's bid me these. I bid Madame of Zell Sylvie to wear them. He handed the mother a small bunch of dune roses and hastened away. The roses were just what Sylvie would have desired had she been accustomed to wish for anything that seemed unattainable. The flaming cashpenia was quickly discarded. The delicate hued roses with their vivid green leaves tastefully disposed among her glossy dark hair gave to the arrangement of her head a picturesque effect that wonderfully improved her countenance. The white muslin dress fitted her admirably. Sylvie's neck and arms lacked the beauty of roundness but the artful dressmaker had only disclosed them beneath a transparent covering which concealed their thinness without hiding the graceful fall of the shoulders and the gentle curve of the youthful bust. Her soul took up the mammoth brooch with the evident hope of fastening it in Sylvie's bosom but the latter smilingly frustrated her intention by placing one of the dune roses in the breast. The brooch was relinquished and the huge buckle proffered but Sylvie mildly set it aside and arranged her white sash very neatly with a few unseen pins. The earrings alone remained and her soul pertenaciously urged their adoption that Sylvie found it difficult to defend herself from being forced to assume the barbarous appendages. In spite of her predilection for finery and her disconfiture at the rejection of her precious giegos when her soul paused to contemplate the young singer appareled in virginal white rainment with the dune roses in her hair and on her bosom she frankly acknowledged that any ornament would have destroyed the maidenly simplicity the striking spirituality of her appearance. The hour at which Métro Beaujeu had promised to call for his pupil was approaching. The Count de Castellane resided in the Foubourg-Sainte-Honoré at some distance from the lodgings of the debutante and her master but there was no money left for the hire of a fiacra. They were obliged to walk. What is Sylvie to wear over her dress? We have nothing positively nothing, exclaimed the mother. This faded mantle of hers will never do never and I have only a worn-out gray shawl. What is she to wear? And on her head too? She has nothing to wear but her old straw bonnet and that is only too shabby but it would crush those flowers and disarrange her hair. Madame de La Roche had discovered a new difficulty and it really seemed as though through habit she had seized with avidity upon each fresh obstacle before she ceased speaking, Ursule was out of the room. In a few moments she reappeared with a somewhat rusty black silk mantilla on her arm. There, that's something quite respectable. I've worn it for these ten years on Sundays and holidays but it has always been in fashion and no one can turn up their noses at black silk. It's always gentile. But her head, what about her head? cried the mother. Well, for her head I do not think I can arrange quite so nicely. We'll have to manage about that. I have no sort of evening head gear for I don't go out at night. I have no one to accompany me," she added with a little sigh. A hat is out of the question or I might lend her my green silk bonnet with the scarlet poppies but it would not do. So I bought this for a substitute and we must make it answer. As she spoke she flung over Sylvie's head and fastened lightly under her chin a very old black veil of imitation lace carefully darned here and there yet not without rinse which there was no time to repair. There, it's charming. Quite Spanish in its effect I declare and it won't press upon the flowers. I assure you it don't look it all out of the way in some countries veils are always worn in the streets to be sure people don't fasten them on just in this style but what does that signify? Métro Beaujeu now made his appearance looking more quaint than ever in the full dress suit which he had preserved for so many years that it had come out of the arc sort of cut and air. What? You're already young one? That's right, I like punctuality. I hope we have no hysterics. There, don't begin to look frightened. We don't want to talk about such stuff. We must be off for is a long night and if you are hurried or flurry tonight your voice will suffer. Can we not wait a moment or two to give her father a chance of seeing her? besought Madame de La Roche. He said he would be home in time but he had some copying engaged for today and I suppose he could not get through as early as he intended. The very possibility of Monsieur de La Roche's appearance was enough to speed Métro Beaujeu. No, no, we are going this instant and he snatched Sylvie's hand away from Ursul who was fastening her glove. Let's be off and carry that nightingale safely in your throat or you and I will both be undone tonight. Oh, don't mention it, sighed Madame de La Roche putting her handkerchief to her eyes. It's just what I expect. Then, begging your pardon, you're a... Oh, I won't say what you are, answered Beaujeu. Bluntly, don't you suppose that I know what I'm about? Do you imagine that I would risk my own reputation with such a pompous fellow as Le Grand? Come, let's be off before I get into a passion. How those words, rude as they were, consoled and encouraged Sylvie who had been struggling all day with her doubts. She embraced her mother tenderly saying, All will be well with me, mother, have no fear. My voice was not given to me for nothing and is this sermon going to end soon? Shouted the impatient old man, When did you turn into a preacher scarecrow? Your voice was not designed for the pullpip but the choir. Sylvie turned to Ursul, murmured her thanks, kissed her and followed her master. In quitting the room, he nearly came in contact with Matayu who was watching the door. Beaujeu lifted his hand to strike the boy but Sylvie caught the upraised arm. Don't, don't, I wasn't doing anything, cried Matayu. I only wanted to see Mamzelle Sylvie as she passed and to know if she wore my roses. Yes, Matayu, yes, I have them in my hair and on my bosom. She hastily lifted her veil as she spoke and threw back the old black mantilla that he might see the flowers. His look of beaming delight made her heart glow and she thought, what a simple thing can give pleasure to the very poor, very humble, very pleasure-less. It is almost worthwhile being poor to need so little to make one happy. The walk to the hotel of the Count Castellet was long and Metro Beaujeu preserved silence which Sylvie felt no disposition to break. At any other time she might have enjoyed the sight of the gaily illuminated streets and the brilliantly lighted shop windows which she seldom beheld, but now she saw nothing save the clear blue sky and the stars above her, thought of nothing but high purposes and heavenly aid. They passed through a spacious courtyard and the door of the stately mansion was quickly thrown open. Monsieur Lagont, is he here? Has he come yet? inquired Beaujeu of a domestic. I believe so, Monsieur. I have the goodness to show me to him. The servant led the way to the library. By a table pouring over some leaves of music set a pompous-looking old man attired at the height of fashion. His dyed beard and hair let no counterfeited youth to his deeply furrowed face. He turned as the door opened. His hair was unquestionably consequential and patroniser. Oh, Beaujeu, my friend, is that you? Glad you're early, he exclaimed in a condescending tone. Is this the young person you thought competent to take the place of mademoiselle Balchance and feel that unfortunate hiatus by singing with la blanche? He scrutinized poor Sylvie with a mistrustful expression which increased the nervous trepidation from which she was already suffering, then whispered, still glancing doubtfully at her, Do you really think she is equal to the Smyrameid? Monsieur Le Grand answered Beaujeu with a dignity which Sylvie had never before seen in him assume. I am no pretender. I am an artist, as you yourself are. I have never had your opportunities or met with your successes, all the worse for me. But I have some reputation to lose and have not quite as much to spare as you have. My loss would be all the heavier if I committed a faux pas. I should not have recommended my pupil, mademoiselle Sylvie de La Roche, were I not quite certain of her powers. Sylvie began to wish that he had been less confident or that he would speak with less certainty and promise less, for cold shutters ran through her frame. She felt as though her voice were stifled, her blood frozen, and if all her limbs had suddenly lost their sinews. She could hardly help exclaiming, Oh my master, you have overrated me. I shall never be able to sing before an audience, especially if the people resemble this gentleman. She turned to bourgeois with words surging up to her lips. One look revealed that he only preserved his calmness through a mighty effort, that his composure and apparent faith in her success was assumed. The hand in which he held his old horn box shook and scattered its contents, he blew his nose violently, either to appear at ease or to conceal his countenance, and when that prolonged process was over, how the poor moustache was twirled and twisted and martyrised, Sylvie saw that he was, in reality, fearful of failure. Her downcast eyes rested on her snowy dress and she thought of the sacrificed violin. Oh, I beg pardon, I did not mean to offend, said Le Grand, coldly. I refer down late to the extreme youth of the young lady. Her appearance made me question. Maître Bourgeois interrupted him. Monsieur, I did not tell you that her appearance was prepossessing. Did you ever see the plumage of a nightingale? Parrots and peacocks have gory feathers, but the nightingale carries the divine music beneath a rusty coat of brown. The beforeers of both sexes now began to pour in. Monsieur Le Grand saluted each, in turn, in the most courteous manner. The ladies were robed in ball costume and there was a lavish display of satins, brocades, embroidery toll, flashing diamonds, artificial flowers, floating feathers and all the accessories of the most elaborate toilets. Sylvie's white muslin and June roses looked strangely insignificant and out of place beside their gorgeous attire. As they threw off their rich medals, they cast upon her glances of disdainful surprise and whispered to each other. The men looked at her hardly less rudely, turning away with a shrug which said, she's no beauty. Maître Bourgeois perceiving how Sylvie shook almost forced her into a seat and stood beside her chair as though to shield her from the impertinence to which she was exposed. Last of all entered la blanche. Monsieur Le Grand immediately presented him to Sylvie and her instructor. The latter was quite prepared for some expression of disapprobation when the distinguished basso beheld the lowly looking substitute who had been chosen to fill the place of Maître Bourgeois but la blanche hardly bestowed a glance upon Sylvie. It was a matter of very little importance to him in what manner she executed her share of the music. He regarded her merely as a necessary auxiliary to enable him to display his wonderful powers in a duet which had been ordered by a member of the royal family as an express complement to himself. The tuning and trying of instruments filled up a long interval. At last Monsieur Le Grand who had left the room returned and said with emphasis now ladies and gentlemen if you are all ready have the goodness to accompany me. Sylvie as she perceived the general movement rose from her chair but the next instant she sank down again. For a moment the lids dropped heavily over her eyes and her naturally shallow complexion grew almost livid. Maître Bourgeois seized her arm and whispered do you intend to disgrace me before all these people for the love of heaven rouse yourself you can if you will I say you must you shall. She slowly opened her eyes and guarded him with a vacant stare as though she could hardly comprehend his words. Sylvie don't you hear me why don't you answer see they have all gone we shall be missed the room was by this time empty Maître Bourgeois glanced over the program he held in his hand and whispered courage child courage your turn does not come for some time you are fully equal to the occasion if you can only collect yourself courage dear child how kindly his voice sounded Sylvie could not recognize the tone and gentle words always had such power over her they now seemed to communicate strength to renew vitality to quicken and exalt all her facilities nothing could have restored her more effectively than words of tenderness to which she was so little accustomed she looked up and smile gratefully though very feebly then rose once more took the musician's proffered arm and allowed him to almost carry her with her he would as they passed through the crowded hall Bourgeois fortunately caught sight of Monsieur Lagrange's tall figure and followed him at a distance until they reached the salon which had been arranged for the performers Aponadéas raised at one end of the apartment understood various musical instruments and a number of velvet covered arm chairs as each performer mounted the platform Monsieur Lagrange pointed out his or her place Sylvie and her tutor he located in the least conspicuous position if that term can be used where all positions were open to full observation but Sylvie saw nothing of the gayly dressed spectators and Bourgeois saw nothing but her he was watching the strange flushing and paling of her cheeks noting the whiteness of her quivering lips the dilation of her large eyes which gave her face a look of nightmare terror as though she were praying to wake from some frightful dream the concert opened with the noble overture from the opera of the prophet Sylvie had never heard it before at the first few chords she drew a long breath as though the air which was stifling her had suddenly grown light and clear her head turned involuntarily towards the performers and her eyes were riveted upon them as if she took in the entrancing sound by her vision as well as by her hearing a solo duet trio followed her attention seemed wholly absorbed and her countenance glowed with delight Bourgeois held the programme in his hand but did not address her until the fourth performance concluded then he whispered it is now your turn child Monsieur Le Grand approached and offered her his hand Bourgeois did not dare to glance at her as she rose looking neither to the right nor the left he walked to the piano and took his seat a derisive murmur ran in and out among the musicians as Sylvie advanced to the front of the platform and Le Blanche took his place at her side rapturously greeted by the audience the rotundity of his proportions the self-satisfaction mingled with a native Bonomi expressed in his countenance contrasted strongly with Sylvie's slender form spiritual look and the binding humility of her appearance but she had ceased to tremble she had a true passion an absolute veneration for music and the masterly strains to which she had been listening had stirred her innermost soul and left its finest chords still vibrating the audience had all faded from her sight the perfect unconsciousness of self gave her self-possession we pass over the effect produced by Le Blanche's exquisite vocalization which never failed to create enthusiasm the very first notes deep rich and clear which issued from Sylvie's lives took all ears captive and caused a great hush this now gushed forth in wild flood now softly rippled and rolled in waves of liquid sound now floated and melted away in silvery echoes and again the wonderful metamorphosis which we have before described took place her blue eyes no longer frightfully dilated filled with lustrous view the elastic lips lost bloodless parlor and took the most bewitching shade the sallow cheeks were dyed with the softest blush the drooping figure rose erect and gained a startling height and majesty she looked the very muse of song incarnate thunders of applause peeled around her at the close of the duet but if she heard she did not notice them or comprehend that they were in any way a degree attribute to herself the voice of Monsieur Lagrange congratulating her broke the spell by which she was bound then she understood that she had passed the ordeal that she had triumphed she gave him one look of almost amazed gratitude and unconscious of the staring crowd unmindful of the time and place turned suddenly to her master threw herself into his arms and burst into tears one touch of nature makes the whole world can and the naturalness and spontaneity of the action elicited a tumultuous response from the sympathetic crowd the clamor startled her she lifted up her head and shrank away abashed Métreux Beaujeu in spite of his own ill concealed emotion had enough presence of mind left to cover the awkwardness of her position and reconduct her to her seat Monsieur Lagrange shook him cordially by the hand shake saying you have a treasure in your pupil Monsieur I wish you joy you may well be proud of her triumph tonight and look forward for her to distinguish herself I claim a little share of the honour myself because my esteem for you my confidence in your judgement has procured me the happiness of presenting her to the public Monsieur Lagrange with his wanted shrewdness foresaw that Sylvie's rare contralto voice and the passion, power and skill she had invents would render her a valuable addition to his core and by excessive swabity he hoped to efface the memory of his late mistrustful coldness Beaujeu was only too ready to be flattered and conciliated a number of the performers had gathered around Sylvie but her face was covered with her hands she still sobbed uncontrollably really memseuse these should be tears of joy after your great success but violent emotion will injure your beautiful voice your pupil is very nervous Monsieur Beaujeu I find excessive excitement very prejudicial to the vocal palos poor Sylvie tears of joy yes perhaps they were but they were tears that had their source in want and suffering and hope deferred that made the heart sick for these had rendered her physically so weak that she had no control over her emotion the performance which had been interrupted now continued Sylvie had only been engaged to sing in the duet with Le Blanche and solely to enable him to be heard but Monsieur Le Grand received a message from the Count informing him that the audience desired to hear the young debutante once more Maitre Beaujeu feared that Sylvie could not regain sufficient composure to do herself justice and objected though very feebly for he was sensible of the compliment Le Grand who regarded the wish of the public as the law of the artist would listen to no refusal and Beaujeu greatly perplexed was forced to yield he went up to Sylvie and took his seat by her side she was still weeping immoderately Sylvie I never saw you cry before it is very wrong very childish it will harm you you must see no answer but renewed tears Sylvie you do not know that your trial is not over yet you have more to accomplish tonight her hands dropped from her face with the start she gave more was all she could ejaculate yes you must sing again oh my master impossible possible and to be reply Beaujeu resuming his usual stern manner the sooner you collect yourself the better unless you wish to neutralize the effect you have produced I tell you that you are to sing again at the conclusion of the concert you will sing that beautiful closing air from the Sonambula which I arranged to suit your voice Sylvie did not reply but the shock communicated by this command check the torrent of her tears Maître Beaujeu said no more for some time and she sat still looking almost petrified so suddenly had she been calmed by and by Beaujeu turned to her again well Sylvie will you be ready I fear I cannot sing cannot sing when the public requested answer Beaujeu this time with unaffected savages if you are the public servant you must obey the public's orders you must have no will no pleasure no indulgence of your own that's the first lesson for you to learn the harder lessons will follow I tell you the audience demands it and you must sing Sylvie did not reply well am I to have an answer you must sing I say again she thought of the sacrificed violin the inward struggle caused her flush countenance to become ashy pale but she looked up and said if you command me I must make the attempt have I much time Beaujeu examined the program there are two more pieces not another word was uttered by either until the last song was concluded and Beaujeu silently offered her his hand Monsieur Le Grand however pressed forward and himself conducted her to the front of the platform then swelled loud acclamations from every side to create a sensation for which the audience had been wholly unprepared the listeners were taken by storm the atmosphere of mystery which surrounded her added to the charm no one knew who she was nor whence she came but that she was a child or genius was the unanimous verdict as the boisterous greeting struck on her ears Sylvie gave a frightened glance around as though she was seeking some mode of escape maître Beaujeu whispered Sylvie in a tone of rebuke that recalled her to herself the glorious voice burst forth once again as deep and rich and clarion like as before and Amina's joyful strain seemed the outburst of Sylvie's own internal happiness never was raptured more eloquently more thrillingly made vocal as the last silvery cadence died away and before a conducting hand could be offered she quietly returned to her seat she had taken no heed of the enthusiastic plaudits she was wholly unaware that an audience expect the stereotyped smiling obeisance with which musicians recognized every noisy token of approval but the evident unsophistication evidenced by her ignorance of the usual hackneyed style of receiving and courting public favor increased the strong impression of originality which she had already made upon the delighted spectators Monsieur Le Grand was loud in his compliments to both master and pupil and Le Blanche with the generosity of a true artist added his congratulations the audience had risen the singers too were departing the count had come forward with several of his friends and was standing by the steps of the platform Le Grand rightly conjectured that this group of admirers desired to be presented to the successful neophyte in making the wish for introduction he courteously included Metro Bochaux Sylvie bowed with doug cast eyes and could not stillable a single word in answer to the eulogens showered upon her Metro Bochaux replied in her stead with really surprising tact and self-possession but seeing that her confusion every moment increased he somewhat abruptly bade good evening and away as they passed the human stream parted and left a wake of murmured behind the twain once more in the library Sylvie donned the shabby black mantilla tied on the old lace veil and though Le Grand was conversing in an earnest tone with his humble associate she took Metro Bochaux's arm with Empress Mall which showed her anxiety to depart Bochaux saw that her strength was nearly exhausted and hastily making an appointment with Le Grand tomorrow conducted her into the hall but was not destined to reach the street door as quickly as he anticipated a young girl who might have passed for Titania of the Beaumont so fairy like was her form so aerial her presence left the gentleman's arm upon which she was leaning ran up to Sylvie and took her hand exclaiming oh Mamzelle you have tonight I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed your singing Sylvie looked up at the sound of the fresh girlish voice and there was something in the joyous young face which inspired her with confidence and unsealed her lips I am so glad she murmured but it was Metro Bochaux then we owe our thanks to him answered the young lady's escort bowing to the musician and deference which showed that he could honour age and appreciate talent how pale and weary you look remarked the beautiful girl and how cold your hand is are you very tired I believe I am tired I am so uncustom to Sylvie hesitated not knowing how to finish the sentence properly then we ought not to detain you longer though I waylaid you Mamzelle you are very kind and we are very flattered replied Metro Bochaux I feel my pupil Mamzelle Sylvie de la Roche is more fatigued than she confesses she is not strong and we have some distance to go we will therefore beg you to pardon us and allow us to say good evening good evening then but Mamzelle Sylvie what a pretty name I hope to hear you sing often oh very very often be sure I shall not forget you and you must not forget me will you wear this little ring to remind you of that compact she added naively it is not worth presenting but you will accept it and wear it for the sake of honouring she drew from her finger a gold ring holding a heart shaped ruby in the center and placed it on the slender finger who had removed her gloves for they were saturated with tears it was the first ring that had ever sparkled upon her hand the gentleman whom honouring had given her bouquet to hold selected a spree of heliotrope and presenting it to Sylvie said in a tone of reverential admiration and will you not also accept this humble offering that Mamzelle Monsieur replied Metro Bourgeois in a somewhat stately manner for he was beginning to feel the importance of his position my pupil is much honoured by your approbation you will allow me to thank you for her once more good evening this time he succeeded in drawing Sylvie away and they passed out of the door and down the steps of the courtyard when they heard a hurried footfall behind them have you not a carriage waiting Monsieur Bourgeois from whom they had just departed I thought that you seemed pedestrianly disposed I must insist upon your using my carriage Antoine drive up before Bourgeois could answer the servant obeying his master's orders was at the gate and the gayly dressed Sir dismounted and let down the coach steps the musician hesitated but the young nobleman for such the arms upon his coach panels proclaimed him to be handed Sylvie into the carriage in a manner which precluded all discussion Metro Bourgeois followed give your orders to Antoine Monsieur Bourgeois I wish you good evening saying this he withdrew probably to say the music master the mortification of naming in his presence some very humble locality the order to the rue Saint-Denis numeral blank was given and the horses started at a rapid pace oh Metro Bourgeois exclaimed Sylvie how much I owe you you will repay the debt tenfold child if you continue to succeed therefore gratitude need not of rest you it does not it is delightful to feel gratitude how my father will rejoice and my poor mother and Mamsel Ursule too she seems so much interested how bright all the world looks to me tonight there is something exhilarating in the very air something that mounts to my brain almost makes my head light the soft pressure of the first roses of triumph reply Bourgeois but they are not thornless child we cannot hope for that one only feels the dewy leaves at first but the prick of thorns must also be experienced in time oh doubtless in time in time exclaimed Sylvie but not in anticipation for that to be to experience it once more than is necessary my dear master do you know who that who the young lady is who spoke to us that was not precisely the question that rose to Sylvie's lips but she changed her query before it found breath no but she is exceedingly lovely though so diminutive and she had the bearing of a little queen a veritable wendiface the gentleman who escorted her has a most distinguished appearance the coat of arms on his carriage shows that he is a nobleman they are grand people then very grand and high people yes you may be sure of that Sylvie sighed involuntarily Metro Bourgeois did not notice this inappropriate demonstration in answer to his assertion his tongue was unloose for the first time since Sylvie had known him and he told her of the distinguished company he had played before in his youth of the reverses he had met owing to the jealousy and treachery of his associates and perhaps to his own lack of ability to push himself forward he dwelt with much pathos upon his trials his depression his struggles to support his aged mother and he pictured the hopes that sprang into existence at the discovery of Sylvie's talent and which now promised to become tangible realities the young maiden drank in every word dreaming meanwhile of the golden future that might be in store for her needy master if the bright auguries of this night prove prophetic she had almost reached an air castle over his head which would have done credit to her father's ingenuity as a cloud land architect when the carriage stopped at the noise of the wheels the concierge hastened to the door but started back in amazement at the sight of a magnificent equippage and coachman in rich livery and a gorgeously attired choisseur what was her bewilderment when the steps of the carriage were let down and metro bourgeois descended and carefully handed out Sylvie old dame mano involuntarily crossed herself as though she felt under the influence of witchcraft as metro bourgeois passed her hurrying Sylvie out the dame could scarcely command breath to gasp out themselves Sylvie has great success at the concert then certainly replied bourgeois with his wanted brusqueness my pupil has achieved a single triumph have the goodness to stand aside dame mano planted herself directly in their path metro bourgeois tried to hurry Sylvie on but she kindly held out her hand to the old woman and said thank you for being glad as bourgeois sharply do you suppose poor people are ever glad to see other poor people rising above them she is more likely to hate you than to like you better for your success and as for rejoicing that's not in human nature then perhaps it's in angel nature answered Sylvie gaily hastening up the stair and I think there's enough of the angel in good dame mano for her to rejoice at my joy angel nature a pretty pattern of an angel Sylvie was considerably in advance of her tutor as she reached her own door she nearly stumbled over a dark object that lay curled up close to the threshold it stirred at her touch is that you at last maves el suvi asmatayo I must have fallen asleep I have waited here so long it's all well oh tell me quickly they say that I have good matayo they say that I did metro bourgeois credit and was it a grand place and you wore my poor flowers all among the great people yes I believe it was a very grand place and I have the roses still in my hair see and she threw off her veil and displayed the june roses drooping their heads among her rich braids but the june rose that blossomed in her bosom when she went forth had been displaced and there a sprig of heliotrope lay but that she did not exhibit to matayo metro bourgeois came panting up the stairs who is that little rascal is that you lying in wait for maves el suvi as usual at the sound of that voice matayo vanished good night go to bed at once and rest said bourgeois as silvie was about to open her own door will you not come in to see how glad they will be no they are sure to make fools of themselves and I have abundant opportunities of beholding that exhibition her soul was sitting with monsieur and madame de la roche at the side of silvie's radiant face they all rose her father caught her in his arms victory victory he shouted she has trialed did I not say that she would her soul and the mother wept for joy for though silvie at first was unable to utter one word her silence was as eloquent as the most profuse language when she had been tenderly embraced and congratulated by each and turn she found voice to reply to her father's metafold inquiries and then related the events of the evening but when she described the gracious young lady who placed the ring upon her finger she wholly omitted to mention the noble looking escort nor did she allude to the odorous spring of heliotrope he had so graciously presented her with perhaps the incident was so trifling that it escaped her memory the rejoicing was interrupted by the sharp knock at the door followed by the intrusion of maitre bourgeois sour face I say you senseless people unless you let the girl go to bed she'll be ill tomorrow and there will be another downfall of monsieur de la roche's pacesports houses she's worn out and has a fever at this moment look at the bright spots on her cheek as her master I order my pupil to go to bed at once and command her to talk no more tonight silvie I expect to be obeyed you shall be my dear master I do feel very much exhausted and I am oppressively warm as she spoke her mother touched her hands and exclaimed in alarm oh if they are burning she'll have a fever and perhaps die oh dear oh dear good fortune never looks in upon us but to be scared away again it will not stay to cheer us even for one night no wonder your endless croaking would put anything pleasant to flight retorted bourgeois give your daughter a cool drink and let her go instantly to bed and if she should feel inclined to sleep in the morning let her lie still there ought to be no more chattering here tonight go to your own room m'zelle sour ur sour who had been easily awed by the morose musician very meekly stole past him carrying on her arm her old mantilla and velle bourgeois as he withdrew shook his head at sylvie repeating go to bed go to bed at once her mother whose fears were only too readily excited urged the not unwilling sylvie to obey the father talked on long after he retired driving his magnificent graze for the greater part of the night but the imaginary steeds and their fancied owner were now and then brought to a sudden halt by his wife's Dolores ejaculation suppose she has a fever there will be the end of all her hopes did we suggest that the flower worn in sylvie's bosom might have escaped her recollection that must have been an error for the roses she took from her hair were left wither forgotten upon her little twallet table but the trope was tenderly laid between the leaves of her bible end of chapter four chapter five of The Mute Singer by Anna Cora Mawet Richie this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Kelly Taylor chapter five The Ruby Ring an exhausting exertion that is pleasurable that calls in play the capabilities of the spirit which when they rise to the heights of genius ever clamor for the burst of action usually leaves no lasting sense of prostration and then youth has wondrous recuperative powers sylvie rose refresh the next morning and free from every lingering trace of her, madame de la Roche with trembling solicitude felt her hands and counted her pulse over and over again but she was forced to admit that the hands were cool and the pulse temperate and that her daughter never looked so well or so happy the frugal breakfast was unusually prolonged that morning sylvie seems serenely joyful and her father boisterously exultant while her mistrustful mother looked positively frightened when she caught herself sharing their gaiety Monsieur de la Roche would gladly have remained at home all day to talk over sylvie's triumph and lay plans for the future but he had promised the notary to complete some important copying and besides he longed to inform his patron that he might provide himself immediately with a new assistant fortunate circumstances present copyist above the need of pursuing his humble vocation after her father had gone forth sylvie instead of clearing away the breakfast remained seated contemplating her own hand as it lay upon the table before her what hails you sylvie inquired the mother I fear you are fatigued after all you are only just beginning to feel it that often the fever may come yet oh no danger is it not pretty mother pretty a fever no I think not how wildly you talk I really believe you are getting lightheaded sylvie laughed and held up her hand I never imagined it would be so pleasant to have a ring on one's finger but the ring must come off though that kind young lady charged me to wear it for her sake it must be put to a better use what is the child talking about she certainly is delirious part with your first token of public approval put it to a better use surely you are out of your head the ring must bring back metro bourgeois violin that violin is more important to my dear master than the ring is to me but you do not propose to sell your ring no only exchange it for the violin I think I know at what pawn broker metro bourgeois left his instrument in pledge I cannot form an estimate of the value of this ring but it may possibly be worth the 70 franc metro bourgeois raised on his violin but you cannot get the violin without metro bourgeois ticket don't you know that simpleton I suppose the ticket will be required of me by the pawn broker but metro bourgeois certainly will not give it up for the purpose of making the exchange but I mean to try what I can do do not remember metro bourgeois said he went to a pawn brokers near here let me go there with I will tell the whole story to the person who is in charge of the business will testify to the truth of my relation and I will plead so warmly that possibly I may get the exchange made you will get nothing for your pains but I suppose the only way to satisfy you is to let you try and I am dreadfully afraid of the pawn if you should fret so go and try what you can do but make up your mind not to worry because you are refused a very unreasonable request Sylvie quickly availed herself of her mother's permission to make the experiment Ursul consented to accompany her and they were soon on their way to the office it was some time before they could get any delivery and search their inquiries but at last the man to whom they applied admitted that metro bourgeois violin had been pledged there Sylvie showed her ring and cupidity sparkled in the his eyes at the sight of the magnificent ruby the ring was not only more valuable than the violin but an article far more easily disposed of if it chance to be redeemed at the specified time Sylvie told her story with an earnest simplicity which was full of eloquence but her listener though strongly tempted was unwilling to agree to the unbusiness life arrangement of giving up the violin without the ticket Sylvie pleaded with irresistible warmth a long consultation between the partners ensued at last the violin was yielded up and the ring left in its place on the condition that metro bourgeois ticket was returned before the night great was her mother's astonishment when Sylvie returned carrying the violin very much after the fashion that a young girl carries a baby and laid it as tenderly on the table as metro bourgeois himself would have done she hardly arranged the room taken her seat at the piano and warbled a few notes when metro bourgeois knock was heard at the door she cried out enter without looking around ah little owl up and playing the nightingale again that's well that shows you have more stamina than your looks imply but what's this he stopped immediately in front of the table what is it why your violin my master answered Sylvie do merely do you not recognize your old friend in return for it you will just be good enough to hand me the ticket the pawnbroker gave you it's mine metro bourgeois was not listening he had opened the case of the violin he was looking at the precious instrument he took it up he almost hugged it his breast heaved tumultuously a sound like the rushing of waves issued from his lips as he drew the bow across the strings which responded as the voice of their own to his emotion Sylvie stood beside him too respectful and too much touched to break the silence but her mother who anticipated an explosion of wrath explained Sylvie did it I told her she had better not I told her it was no business of hers but the willful girl would have her own way how did she obtain possession of my property how did she dare to meddle with my affairs as bourgeois recovering himself in his roughest tone those villainous pawnbrokers how could they have the harnitude to entrust what was mine to another without my order I shall go to them at once I'll teach them a lesson you will not do anything so wrong my dear master answered Sylvie quietly I am the only one to blame was I not right to repay my debt the very first moment that I could but what you could not that's the difficulty by what means of repaying it had you Sylvie did not reply she was intimidated by the severity of his look do you intend to answer me you had a violin it was your soul valuable I had a ring it was my soul valuable you gave up your violin for me I gave up my ring for you surely the barter is a fair one and simple enough there's nothing very wonderful about the transaction and do you suppose that this is the use you are to make of gifts bestowed upon you by high people do you know what consequences this may lead do you know what will be thought of you if you do not wear the token of esteem which a young lady of rink has conferred upon you I shall wear it maître bourgeois by and by I hope to redeem it do you forget that a new path is open to me thanks to your unwearyed instructions and that I shall be able to earn my bread how confident we have grown all of a sudden one swallow does not make a summer there is a vast difference between one night's triumph and the steady maintaining of your position ah there is ruefully responded madame de la Roche I said we were rejoicing too soon growing before dawn sylvie's just like her poor father takes everything for granted and has found a fortune if she peaks up a sue you almost make me wish she might never find anything that would rob you of the satisfaction a perpetual whining snarl bourgeois maître bourgeois my mother began sylvie there there that's enough about it child I am going to give back the violin at once and to get your ring I suppose too can play at that game sylvie's countenance changed she looked not merely sad but hurt and answered with dignity that became her well of course you will do as you please but it will wound me deeply I have no right to dictate to someone who is vastly my superior I am your debtor in all senses of the word but if you would allow me the pleasure of feeling the first faint foreshadowing touch of an independence which I may hereafter obtain you will keep your violin and give me the ticket which I have promised to carry to the man who through my representations gave up the violin against his better judgment he looked at her steadily for a moment and if he did not smile it was because he would not there was a smile lurking in his eyes which he forced away from his hard lips he took a long pinch of snuff and replaced the box drew out a little old discolored pocketbook deliberately selected the ticket threw it on the table seized his violin and without a word left the room when Sylvie and Ursul presented themselves again at the pawnbrokers the sight of the ticket gave evident relief to the person whom Sylvie had argued into an irregular proceeding which might have entailed unpleasant results Sylvie now received a ticket for the ruby ring that had been left in pledge and departed well pleased Maître Bougot returned some hours later Sylvie at once remarked the satisfied air with which he took a seat laying his violin on his knees and rested his hands upon the case I have seen Monsieur Lagombe I had an appointment with him which I have just kept yes I am glad how do you know there is a cause for gladness your eyes told me they talk faster than your tongue my master you will oblige me by not consulting my eyes then it's not decorous conduct for a young girl Monsieur Lagombe has offered you an engagement you don't look in the least astonished I knew it before that is not possible how could you know it your eyes told me that too you want to put me into a passion with your impertinence Sylvie my dear do behave reasonably you don't know what might happen if you did put Maître Bougot into one of his rages broke in the mother Bougot had seated himself with his back to Madame de La Roche who was sewing as usual at the window he now wheeled abruptly around his face her he was evidently on the point of giving vent to some violent outburst but Sylvie laid her hand gently on his arm the soft touch and her look of entreaty melted him without uttering a syllable but with a great gulp which seemed to swallow down many words he wheeled round again Monsieur Lagombe has offered us an engagement remarked Sylvie by way of taking up the thread of the discourse that's right child say us, us he has offered us another appearance reply Bougot proudly he either thought it time to recognize my ability or policy has induced him to show me some deference on your account he has requested three songs from you of my selection and a solo on the violin from me the concert which he is now making arrangements is to take place at the sale Saint-Sécile not at a private house as before a light shadow passed over Sylvie's face at the last words of what was she thinking why would she have preferred to sing again at the Count Castellanes Le Grand has the home management including the payment of the artist and he proposes to pay us asked Sylvie Franck answered Bougot with ill-affected coolness 200 franc that's immense no it's very moderate enumeration but you are a novice and have yet to earn celebrity one is paid for refutation rather than for positive talent of the 200 franc 100 will be yours no no indeed that would be unfair you have been instructed me for three years my share must be very small I will receive only enough to supply the immediate wants of my parents the rest rightfully belongs to you am I henceforth to be schooled by you are you to set up your judgment on all occasions against mine I see you have plenty of spirit that will come out by and by and play the dupe with us I tell you I will make what agreement I please and you will consent to it whether it please you or displease you am I not the master and are you not my pupil perhaps you desire to change places or you would like to have some other master to deal with can you think I could so forget what I owe you the first thing you owe me is obedience and that's a debt I advise you to pay since we've settled that matter now let us select the three songs end of chapter 5 chapter 6 of The Mute Singer by Anna Cora Malwat Ritchie this LibriVox recording is in the public domain chapter 6 the second step the week that intervened between her first and second appearance as a singer did not pass very smoothly with Sylvie the constant presence of her volatile father was not merely an interruption to her studies but his frequent wordy collisions with bourgeois discomposed her and kept her a choleric master in a state of most distressing excitement Dila Roche was in such exuberant spirit he was so confident that Sylvie's talents would speedily realize a large income that he would shortly be restored to his former position in the social world and glorious anticipation that he would air long actually drive that superb pair of greys for always careering through his brain that he grew more reckless and improvident than ever the few francs per day which he had an opportunity of earning seemed a sum too petty to be considered to receive them would he thought be a positive humiliation and in a stately manner he declined to undertake any further copying for the notary now passed the larger portion of his time at home commenting on his daughter's studies both serifously applauding her brilliant execution rallying his wife upon her low spirits sparring with maître bourgeois and communicating to everyone who entered his princely projects for the future Ursul flitted in and out of the room at brief intervals always shrinking into some corner or stealing noiselessly away when Bourgeois made his appearance Metaille uncured by the musician's rough treatment of his propensity to harken by stealth to sweet sounds never passed the door without lingering to listen and as Sylvie's voice through its witching spell around him he often sank down enthralled and with his head resting against the door panel became oblivious of his errand forgetting all of his wants his cares, his misery until well-known step dissolved the enchantment and put his visions and himself to flight Madame Manot, the concierge who ever since she had seen Sylvie descend from the splendid carriage had paid great court to the maids and gossiped about them incessantly made continual visits to their apartment accompanied by curious friends De La Roche received her with pompous condescension and amazed the good woman by his florid descriptions of the mode of life he proposed shortly to lead and his enumeration of the sumptuous adorments of the abode he was busily preparing his imagination unluckily this troublesome father had made up his mind not to forego the pleasure of witnessing his daughter's next triumph in public and upon that point he was immovable he coolly made known his determination to accompany her to the sal this privilege Beaujeu refused to allow and even threatened to give his instructions and the engagement all together if De La Roche persisted in his intention then Erode proposed to buy a ticket and if he had possessed or could have borrowed the requisite amount it would have been expended in this purchase and that while the sweet singer herself almost lacked food at last Beaujeu tired out by these persecutions procured from Monsieur Le Grand a complimentary admission which he presented to De La Roche on the condition that he absented himself from his lodgings during the day the bargain was easily made and so great was the father's joy at the possession of the ticket that he may be said to have upon it next to his art and certainly drew it forth and gazed upon it tenderly hundreds of times besides exhibiting it to every acquaintance whom he encountered during the three days that elapsed before it could be used the evening came Sylvie was clad in the simple snowy rain that she had before worn she had no means of replacing the white-kid gloves which had been completely ruined by her abundant tears but the thoughtful Ursule had provided her with another pair stenting herself for a week after for the pleasure of indulging in this helpful generosity Thayou had not forgotten a meat tribute to the Saint Cecilia of Song at whose shrine he worshiped so aboutly his offering was a bunch of lilies of the valley and the pure white bells drooping among Sylvie's jetty hair increased by contrast the beauty of the flowers and of the silken tresses upon which they reposed Bourgeois artfully advised de La Roche to present himself at the doors of Versailles sometime before they opened that he might secure an advantageous seat that the project was to get him out of the way as soon as possible the ruse succeeded admirably the impatient father acted so promptly upon the hint that after solidarily pacing up and down before the Saul Saint Cecil for an hour he headed the long queue which, according to the French custom forms the crowd at an entrance into an orderly double file though one person pressing before another who arrived earlier de La Roche's ever-vescent spirits forbade all reticence and he soon entered into conversation with the persons who surrounded him after the opening of a few general remarks he confidentially informed them that he had a daughter who was to sing that night he dwelt with enthusiasm upon the genius she invents and upon her success at the Count Castellane's recent concert then branched off into his discourse and favored his listeners with a sketch of his ancestry and his own early history gave them an account of his wealth and his losses and finally communicated his conviction that his fortunes were now to be redeemed by the daughter whom they were about to behold and wrapped once more in Ursul's foxy black mantle and old veil Sylvie walked with her master to the cell in the Rue de la Chaussée Danton the little retiring room appropriated to the singers was a rather comfortless apartment but Sylvie felt more at home there than in the Count's elegant library Monsieur la Grande had saluted her and Bourgeois when they entered with smart courtesy and his example was followed by such of the performers as were present at her debut the arrangements were of course different from those in a private house the musicians only appeared when according to the order indicated by the program it was their turn to sing or play Sylvie was perfectly composed but they absorbed in the duty to be discharged she sat beside Bourgeois now and then exchanging a few words with him until Monsieur la Grande gave her his hand to lead her forth it had not occurred to her master that she should be instructed to return the greeting of the audience by unobesance and she walked directly though calmly to the front of the platform near there were many persons present who had already heard her sing and noisy as was their welcome it was unnoticed by the young vocalist Monsieur la Grande whispered to her you have forgotten to courtesy mademoiselle courtesy if you please Sylvie looked up at his face with surprise but supposing that he met her to courtesy to him made a modest reverence the quickness with which the audience comprehended this little by play divined what la Grande had whispered and how the unsophisticated girl had misinterpreted his words was surprising a good humored and very general laugh mingled with plaudits resounded from every side but Sylvie far from being conscious that she had committed any error and certainly congratulated herself that she had so quickly acted upon Monsieur la Grande's hint O Mio Fernando from Donzetti's opera of La Feverita was executed with artistic skill depth of feeling and vocal power rarely equaled one great charm of her singing was the absence of all effort the flowing forth delicious sounds as though they involuntarily roll from her lips the tumultuous burst of delight which rent the air when the last mellow notes faded into silence did not seem to reach her ears from the moment she commenced singing her countenance wore an extracted dreamy look as though she had risen to some sublimer sphere and was unaware of all that passed in the region below her it was quite useless for Monsieur la Grande again to suggest the propriety of a courteous acknowledgement he led her back to the retiring room without a word and regardless of the uproarious demand for an encore you sang charmingly minouazelle de la roche he then said to her but you quite forgot to salute the audience salute the audience oh I beg pardon I did not know that I had anything to do with the audience answered the novice those artless words drew forth little gushes of suppressed laughter from her associates of the hour yes little stupid said bourgeois coming to the rescue you must curtsy when you appear before them and curtsy when you retire but I will not allow curtsying at every demonstration of favour as a shocking Italian habit in the worst possible taste and it does not suit your pure style as he spoke he darted spiteful glances at several of the ladies who were still giggling in their handkerchiefs and whom he had beheld soliciting fresh rounds of applause by already bending of the knee at the faintest sound of approval Monsieur la Grande who heard shrugged shoulders and converted a spontaneous grimace into a conciliatory smile he thought it better not to interfere with the eccentric pair he had remarkable skill in feeling the public's paltz and he knew that Sylvie's very freshness and unaffected ignorance of forms added to the potent charm of her marvellous vocalization when she appeared again she did not forget the fascination and the marked manner in which she curtsy seemed archly to say if I did wrong before I hope I am atoning such too was the ready interpretation of her action by the spectators and her perfect transparency increased her fascination but while she was singing Voi chissate from Mozart's Figaro her recent tutoring was wholly effaced from her mind and at the close of the air she was gravely walking away when some recollection seemed to strike her she started hesitated came back a step or two with oh I forgot plainly expressed by her countenance made her little untaught ruck stick courtesy and tripped away followed by a whirlwind of rapturous acclamation the bombastic Le Grand smiled and almost laughed before Sylvie sang the third time her master was to execute a solo Métro Bourjeu took unusually long to tune his dear sweet-toned violin but he would have flown into a rage if anyone had dared to hint that he was at all ruffled when he rose Sylvie followed him and thought that she might stand where she could hear Bourjeu stationed her a few steps from the entrance to the stage where she was screened from view but as the music grew more and more stirring it seemed to draw her magnetically forth little by little she unconsciously advanced bending forward to catch every sound for her but stood wrapped and statue-like almost breathlessly listening while all eyes were riveted upon her the hearty tokens of pleasure that echoed on every side when the strain ended were awarded as much to the affectionate enthusiasm of the pupil as to the masterly skill of the tutor she remained as motionless as one transfixed until Bourjeu approached her in making his exit his surprise, what are you doing here child? first made her aware that she was standing in the presence of the crowd she drew back aghast striking in the suddenness of her retreat against Monsieur Lagrand who chanced to be standing behind her he accosted her laughingly mademoiselle La Roche your appreciation of your master does you as much honour as your devotion to your art composed for pastas glorious contralto voice had been selected for Sylvie's last effort that night and startling as her vocal achievements had been before this was her crowning triumph Monsieur Lagrand was obliged to consent to the encore which was previously demanded and even after the request had been complied with found it difficult to quiet and satisfied the enraptured and exciting auditors who appear determined to hear the air for a third time and not to allow the performance to proceed in regular order until they were gratified that Sylvie was able to sustain herself now was an incontestable fact that she must take rank with the first singers of the day appeared to be a sequence which nothing could prevent that Monsieur Lagrand entertained this opinion was evidence from his deference towards her which every moment augmented the concert was over Sylvie and her master had only made a few steps in the street when her quick eyes distinguished two persons approaching that made her heart give a great bound that tiny, graceful nymph like little figure and the stately form by its side had too often risen before her mental vision not to be instantly recognized we are more captivated than ever mademoiselle Sylvie I am sure the great pasta never saying ditantie par pitié more triumphantly said Honoreen you have not forgotten me I hope Honoreen had taken Sylvie's hand it trembled nervously at the touch Sylvie was thinking of the ruby ring with a sickening fear that its absence from her finger might be detected she remembered all Metro Beaujeu had said about what might be thought of her parting with the ring but not defend herself despite the thrill of joy that ran quivering through every vein at this encounter she was impatient to hasten away and could not command her voice whose clouds yonder look threatening remarked Honoreen's escort you must allow us to take you home Sylvie made a faint effort to decline this offer but Beaujeu thought of the likelihood of her taking cold promises that her voice might be affected by hoarseness and answered promptly you are exceedingly good monsieur we will accept your offer for a cold would be a terrible calamity just at this moment it would be indeed replied the nobleman handing Sylvie into the carriage one that would fall upon us all Honoreen leaped lightly in and the gentleman followed and chatted merrily to Sylvie as the carriage was on its way to the Rue Saint-Denis and the young singer was gradually lured into unembarrassed responses it was too dark for her to distinguish the faces around her and that circumstance helped to banish her diffidence the gentleman conversed with each other and the nobleman gave Metro Beaujeu his opinion of the concert as a whole and of individual performers not forgetting the solo on the violin and proving by his discriminating criticism that he was a fine judge of music Sylvie had become quite at ease with her aristocratic companion by the time the carriage stopped Metro Beaujeu was nearest to the door he got out and turned to assist his pupil but the nobleman sprang down the steps seriously handed her out himself then without once renouncing at the humble locality re-entered the coach Dame Manot flew forth at the sound of the wheels and various lodgers put out their heads out of the doors and windows to see if it really was little Sylvie brought home in a grand carriage and we fear that some of them dreamt dreams that night about renouncing their own humble vocations to turn their attentions to music the easiest means of rising in the world the delighted concierge caught Sylvie enthusiastically in her arms but this familiarity exasperated Metro Beaujeu who almost tore her from the good woman's hearty embrace he bade Sylvie good night at her own door he ordered her to go to bed at once the command however she had to relate the occurrences of the evening to her mother and Ursul very soon her father burst in upon the trio and incoherently poured out the history of his adventures he repeated the flattering remarks he had overheard the congratulations he had received when it was known that he was Sylvie's father told of the whispers that flew from one to another until the miracle was cognizant of the fact and described his efforts to elbow his way through the crowd that he might accompany his daughter home and his perfectly furious struggles to reach her side when he saw her enter a superb carriage which some of the spectators recognized as the equipage of the Marquis de Saint Amar the Marquis de Saint Amar ejaculated Sylvie and the lovely little lady who was with him did you hear who she was oh I think that was madame de la Marquise of course I think I heard someone call her so it is a great honor for her to bring you home herself but nothing more than what we have the right to expect Sylvie suddenly grew pale and stammered out I fancied she was too young to be married so girlish and frank it never occurred to me I could not have believed it does not seem possible none of these broken sentences were to be finished she appeared to be lost in thought and was too absent to hear her father's questions when he chided her gestingly mingling his light rebukes with kisses and praise she pleaded fatigue and begged to leave to retire to her chamber a moment before she had declared that she was not at the least degree tired and felt as though she could sing all night but we suppose there is no exception to the rule that pronounces women capricious since one brought up in such seclusion and so indulged as Sylvie invents caprice End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 of The Mute Singer by Enna Cora-Mollett-Ridgey This LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Kelly Taylor Chapter 7 Reaction Sylvie tossed restlessly on her couch that night oppressed by troubled dreams when she woke with a start her thoughts were confused and an indefinable weight pressed upon her spirits and she felt haunted by a strange vague sense of disappointment though the dawn had broken and it was her custom to rise before the sun she only gazed wearily about her and sank again into an unquiet slumber why was it that one visionary shape stood uninvoked before her and in all the vividness in reality she had hardly looked into that face yet she distinctly remembered every feature the deep set luminous hazel eyes the expansive intellectual brow the waving chestnut hair so fine and soft that it appeared thin and threatened by early baldness the well cut nose the too strongly defined curve of the mouth which gave an expression of coldness to the countenance until the lips parted with a smile she recalled to how suddenly the frost melted beneath the glowing warmth of that smile and the entire visage was lighted up with a winning softness wholly opposite to its dominant character in repose almost all young maidens picture to themselves the bow ideal of manhood for which as their journey through life progresses they zealously search Sylvie had seen few gentlemen we might say almost none never before had a word been addressed to her by one whose noble bearing even slightly approached the demeanor of the Marquis de Saint Amal was it unnatural her girlish imagination should have found a bow ideal unsought even of the fairy like being whom she knew only as honorine but what had that to do with Sylvie's admiration did she not experience as much or even more for his wife it was the type of man and woman by which she was fascinated wherefore should she feel disturbed she sprang out of bed as though in rising she could escape tormenting reflections she found herself singularly weak she staggered back and sank again upon the couch her hands were burning her lips and tongue parched she longed for a glass of water yet had not the strength to seek it and would not venture to to serve her mother or rather would not run the risk of exciting those ready fears by which the latter was so easily tantalized suffering for some time in silence Sylvie made another effort and began slowly to dress the very weight of her clothes seemed too great for her to bear her limbs trembled and surrounding objects danced and swam before her eyes till she forced herself to continue her toilette the cool water which she greedily drank could not quench her thirst but after she had dashed a quality in her face she felt somewhat refreshed nerving herself to conceal her languor she lifted the old calico curtain and passed into her mother's room it was late and Madame de La Roche had prepared breakfast a duty which always devolved upon Sylvie the latter tried to speak in a cheerful tone but was very thankful to her father for monopolizing the conversation and she was still more grateful when he took up his hat and went forth without noticing her fagged look and unusual flush on her cheeks he was impatient to relate to his quantum employer the notary and any other friends whom he could find the events of the previous night and to discount upon the brilliant prospects they heralded the girl though she longed to lie down again had too much consideration for her mother to yield to this inclination and mechanically opened the piano her hot hands had no power over the keys her voice when she tried to sing was tremulous the dark floating mist passed before her eyes until the very lilies which she had taken from her hair the night before herself above the piano grew black as she gazed at them mother she said at last without turning and supporting her throbbing head on her hands did not Mamzell Ursul say yesterday that it was necessary for me to have another dress before I appeared again in public perhaps she is right and if I sing again soon as I hope I shall a strange forevoting made her pause but she rallied we had better lose no time I am a little tired today too tired to sit long at the piano may I not pay Madam Ursul a visit and talk over this important affair of the dress yes of course you will have some money enough to purchase something handsome that is if Metro Bourgeois pays you as he promised to do what are you tired of me to hear you say so is it not natural mother after my sitting up so late and going through so much excitement and exertion there it is there it is excitement and exertion you will never be able to stand I thought so from it first you will break down and that it is all over with us pray mother dear don't put such an idea into my head you cannot think how the very question troubles me Sylvie could hardly repress her quick springing tears she wept readily for she had never known trials tinge with bitterness that cannot find relief in the heaven sent boon of tears she had never known the despairing anguish that dries up tears she had never known the hidden griefs that teach us to control our tears while they drop inwardly like molten lead gold at heart I am only tired mother she answered trying to conceal her brimming eyes and perhaps it would do me a little good to talk to gossip a little maître bourgeois would say when maimzel ursul may I go yes yes though I hope you are not growing vain and commencing to attach importance to your appearance if that is the case the next thing you will be looking down upon us as many a child who rises above her parents has done before I confess that is a sorrow I am not prepared for nor shall you ever have need to be mother I am sure I have given you no cause to imagine that I will ever be so unfilial have I no no not yet but we never know what sad stroke is coming Sylvie was unable to reply but kissed her mother and trying to mend her faltering feet and walk with her usual light firm step left the room in the entry she paused she felt as if she could go no further as she leaned against the wall she caught sight of matayu who probably had been hovering about the door I am so glad you are here matayu I feel so tired this morning I do not want my mother to know how tired it would alarm her I am going to refresh myself by chatting with mamzell ursul will you give me your arm to help me down the stairs it's very stupid of me to be so weak it would not be easy to depict the emotion of the poor boy at being called upon to render this slight existence to one who me regarded with idolizing reference until that moment miserable hunchback had never felt in his own person the superiority of manhood over the weaker sex but as he supported Sylvie he experienced a glow of manly pleasure and his cripple frame rose erect as though through the might of this new sensation it could cast off its deformity they reached the mantua maker's door he knocked and Sylvie was joyfully admitted she sank overpowered into the arms of the kind hearted old maid told her how ill and exhausted she felt and begged her to do something to strengthen and restore her without disturbing her mother ursul tenderly made her lie down upon the bed loosened her clothes then prepared a cooling drink talked to her soothingly bathed her hot temples and burning hands found a wet napkin on her brow and in a very short time saw her fall into a sweet slumber there she has found the best restorative sleep is worth a whole doctor's shop of medicines said the sympathizing dressmaker as she softly took out her work and sat down to watch her patient Sylvie slept for a long time undisturbed and did not even hear the knock at the door master's rough voice exclaiming where's that little runaway blown from her cage I hear above I suppose she's growing lazy after her triumph and moreover is going to trouble us with her heirs so her wise mother upstairs predicts ursul beckoned him into the room without speaking she was always rather nervous about addressing him and merely pointed to the couch do you think she is ill? gasped maitre bourgeois very feverish and weak and worn out but I trust not ill she will wake up much better her skin is cooler already and she gently laid her fingers upon the thin hands that were folded upon Sylvie's bosom maitre bourgeois bit over her with a tenderness it is not easy to imagine him capable of experiencing yet possibly there was a dash of selfishness mingling with the compassion and anxiety expressed in his face if by the cultivation of her genius his hand had opened an arena to the child of poverty and misfortune wherein she could win laurels that were golden and earn fame that was wealth had she not done the same for him and now were the shining gates of this bright future suddenly to close again both because of her lack of strength to keep them open a fragile casket to hold such a gem he ejaculated half to himself then turning to her soul added I comprehend why she came down to you that mother of hers would worry her life out of her with tiresome fears and predictions it's cruel it's abominable they stood for a while in silence suddenly Ursul remembered to offer her guest a chair he took it and seated himself at the foot of the bed Ursul resumed her work neither could have told how long Sylvie slept for both had fallen into a deep reverie at last the slumberer stirred her lips moved as though they were about to sing but only one low note escaped them the sound or effort awakened her and she opened her large blue eyes and gazed in wonder at her master then turned to Ursul you have had a good rest child said bourgeois are you better do you feel refreshed much better how good it was of you maimsel Ursul and you my kind master not to wake me how late is it sometime past noon replied Ursul looking at the shadows on the wall by which she could always tell the time in the absence of the luxury of a clock so late what will my mother think she will be terribly frightened I must go back at once she raised herself and slid off the bed but as her feet touched the ground the floor for an instant seemed floating away from her and she clutched at the bed clothes for support let me fasten your dress and smooth your hair said Ursul there that will do now drink a little more of this lemonade Sylvie drank eagerly for her thirst was still unslaked I intend to go up with you remarked bourgeois in a decided tone not for a lesson I will not allow you to sing today for you are too weak but I must talk with you about future plans I would rather remain here in converse but your mother will get one of her tantrums unless you make your appearance as soon as possible thank you for thinking of her began Sylvie no indeed it was you in your comfort I was thinking of I know what a pandemonium she can make of her apartment when she conjures up her blue divils and gives some possessions of the chamber as they were going Sylvie remembered her errand it was about my dress that I came to consult you Ursul you said I must not wear my white muslin again just yet my mother wished me to ask you what change you advise say that I advise a plain white silk which will become you amazingly and will be very useful hereafter for with skill and taste we can transform it into a number of dresses an overdress of a crate or tool or tartan or trimmings of ribbons or flowers or velvet will vary it charmingly don't forget that I am ready to accompany you to purchase the dress whenever you choose it had better be made up at once Sylvie took her master's arm in ascending the stare but perceiving how heavily she leaned he encircled her waist to support her better she looked up gratefully and then with bold like confidence laid her head gently on his shoulder affection was inexpressibly sweet to her a single touch of kindness warmed her to her heart's core strengthened her when she was most weak gave her new life when vitality seemed exhausted as might have been expected Madame de la Roche was both alarmed and indignant at her daughter's prolonged absence she was on the eve of going in search of her Sylvie begged pardon and without mentioning the slumber by which she had been refreshed delivered her soul's message about the white silk dress Madame de la Roche approved of the selection if they could afford it she added glancing meaningly at maitreaux bourgeois he answered the look with a scowl and seemed inclined to replace the old pocketbook but a glance at Sylvie dispelled the evil prompting Monsieur Lagrange pay me this morning Sylvie there is one hundred francs your chef he laid five glittering louis d'or in her lap I feel as though I have no right to so large a portion she said hesitatingly you will not find it so large if you have a white silk dress to purchase I don't intend to give you a lesson today the mother groaned audibly and muttered to herself no lesson now he'll begin to neglect her and she'll soon forget all she has acquired bourgeois heard but went on without heeding the ungracious remark you have not yet heard what Monsieur Lagrange desires I am in treaty with him for something permanent we have not come to terms yet Lagrange wants us so it will not do to seem anxious there is a concert of which he is in charge at the Duke Blanc in the Faux-Burle Saint-Germain next week we are engaged meantime I will not have you fag yourself out you want rest fresh air and a generous diet a bit of meat and a glass of vin au lait every day for dinner you must have both today I shall send Mamzele a stool up to you give her your orders and the money and she will purchase your dinner as well as your dress remember you are to take my prescription without fail a mutton chop and a glass of wine and after that you must rest or amuse yourself no work no practicing as the door closed upon him Sylvie's mother and I inquisitive I foresee he has to become an absolute tyrant over us he orders our very dinners he will take the whole control of our domestic concern before long and we shall be his absolute slaves no mother he is only thinking of what is best for me his pupil he sees how important is that I should grow strong and that is the reason he gives those minute directions which are we are bound to follow Ursul now made her appearance the appropriateness of the white silk dress was discussed at length and its purchase decided upon then in obedience to Medre Bourjeu's commands for he had given Ursul a hint it was settled what provisions should be bought for dinner are you not going with me Sylvie shopping will amuse you it is a delightful occupation when one has money and she glanced significantly at the gold pieces which still lay in Sylvie's lap I would rather stay at home and amuse myself quietly since I am to have a holiday replied Sylvie she would not confess that she still felt too weak to walk but I wish my dear mother could be persuaded to go with you the day is delightful I would do her good and you need not hurry so she will not fatigue herself do go mother as she placed the gold in her mother's hand the apathetic mother looked doubtful but inclined to yield a little more coaxing and she was conquered she laid the Louis door in on the table and was tying her bonnet when in walked the husband his eyes sparkled and acted the glitter of the gold upon which they rested when he was informed of Maître Bourgeois orders in regard to Sylvie he replied gaily he is quite right he is a good fellow and it's very thoughtful him but I will attend to all that I will be your baker my rich little daughter he was delightedly gathering up the bright Louis door when Ursul interfered you must leave us enough silk dress Monsieur de la Roche that's indispensable we shall be very fortunate if we get it for 90 francs and there will be tin over have the goodness to wait until we are certain of the exact amount nonsense nonsense my good Ursul after I have provided a suitable repasse you shall have the change this is a very small sum after all but of course it is only earnest of what it is to come to make it do for the present saying this he quietly put the gold pieces into his empty purse and salade out leaving his wife and daughter and their devoted friend not a little discomfited prudence had been wholly emitted in the elements that composed the character of Edvard de la Roche in his expenditures he never invents the slightest forethought or stop to make the most natural calculations he invariably purchased when the means were obtainable whatever pleased his fancy without condescending to anything so mean as economy without reflecting that there were actual necessities to which the sum in question ought to be devoted without ever asking himself whether the money in his possession was his own or belong to his creditors and without admitting that honesty made it theirs if it chance to be due them when he returned to his lodgings an hour later he was accompanied by a man who carried a large basket with a munificent air he gave the porter a piece of silver placed the basket on the table and with boyish glee bade everyone gather round first he took out a beautiful bouquet he had purchased at the celebrated Madeleine flower market this he pronounced absolutely necessary to dress the table for a decent meal next he brought forth some large strawberries and some fine cherries he had evidently selected the best that could be procured of each fruit then he produced a perivore pie a most expensive delicacy some tarts a pair of fine fowls a tongue an ample supply of soup meat a fresh salmon some green peas and artichokes a bottle of olives and three bottles not of the ordinaire the customary dinner drink of France but a fine claret of choice vintage it is quite a luxury to market once more he exclaimed rubbing his hands hilariously I have so long been denied the inestimable privilege that I really enjoyed it I fancy we shall dine today my dear Magarite do look merry for once I imagine it is those unbecoming caps of yours which always give your face that gloomy look see what I have bought to conjure back the expression of old times and for you to do the honour of our dinner by wearing he took from a paper unfolded a pretty white lace cap trimmed with bright ribbons and tossed it towards her but Monsieur de la Roche what have you been doing asked her soul dolefully after the money you must have spent in all these provisions and that cap how much can there be left for Sylvie's white dress my good friend come and dine with us today and don't talk nonsense I really do not know what change I have over but it will be wanted before our next supply of gold comes in he drew from his pocket a few pieces of silver among which shone but one remaining Louis door what could Sylvie do what could her mother say both were silent one from respect the other from despair not so Ursul to eat a couple white silk dress which Sylvie needs so much in this fashion it's absurd Monsieur de la Roche it's monstrous it's a cannibal proceeding for it's eating that child's flesh and blood a few francs would have purchased a capital dinner and left money over for that dress where are we to do dine and dine once more return Monsieur de la Roche my good Ursul have the philosophy to enjoy the present by dining with us today and not finding fault with my catering for our humble table and let the dresses of the future take care of themselves here Sylvie put this bouquet in water it is for you who have always so delighted with flowers I fear you have nothing to hold them with but that broken jar I wish I had thought of buying a pretty vase how slowly you move child are you fatigued suppose you stay my excellent Ursul and help Sylvie to prepare the repost but don't let us have that white silk dress dished up for one of the courses it is dished indeed side Ursul but she deemed it useless to remonstrate further and noticing Sylvie's one look considerably remained to prepare a meal which she knew child and mother had hearts too full to enjoy though the filial daughter never uttered one word of reproach at beholding her first earnings thus recklessly dissipated End of Chapter 7