I asked no more, and could have died with that sound in my ears.
"Why, Pauline! child! what is it ?" cried Mrs.Hollenbeck, as the music ceased and Mr.Langenau.again came back to the circle round the table.
Every one looked: I was choking with sobs.
"Oh, don't, I don't want you to speak to me," I cried, putting away her hand and darting from the room.

I was not ashamed of myself, even when I was alone in my room.

The powerful magic lasted still, through the silence and darkness, till I was aroused by the voices of the others coming up to bed.
Mrs.Hollenbeck knocked at my door with her bedroom candle in her hand, and, as she stood talking to me, the others strayed in to join her and to satisfy their curiosity.
"You are very sensitive to music, are you not ?" said Charlotte Benson, contemplatively.

She had tried me on Mompssen, and the "Seven Lamps," and found me wanting, and now perhaps hoped to find some other point less faulty.
"I do not know," I said, honestly.

"I seem to have been very sensitive to-night." "But you are not always ?" asked Henrietta Palmer.