Dear mother, when we go to the city next winter, Gabriella must go with us, and she must have music-masters, and we will play and sing together.

She has taught in that old academy long enough, I am sure she has." "I think Gabriella has been taking some very important lessons herself, while teaching in the old academy, which chances to be quite new, at least her part of it," answered Mrs.Linwood; "but I have no intention of suffering her to remain there too long; she has borne the discipline admirably." As I turned a grateful glance to Mrs.Linwood, my heart throbbing with delight at the prospect of emancipation, I met the eyes, the earnest, perusing eyes of her son.

I drew back further into the shadow of the curtain, but the risen moon was shining upon my face, and silvering the lace drapery that floated round me.

Edith whispered something to her brother, glancing towards me her smiling eyes, then sweeping her fingers lightly over the harp-strings, began one of the songs that Ernest loved.
Sweetly as she always sang, I had never heard her sing so sweetly before.

It seemed indeed "Joy's ecstatic trial," so airily her fingers sparkled over the chords, so clearly and cheerily she warbled each animated note.
"I know you love sad songs best, Ernest, but I cannot sing them to-night," she said, pushing the instrument from her.
"There is a little German air, which I think I may recollect," said he, drawing the harp towards him.
"You, Ernest!" cried Edith and his mother in the same breath, "you play on the harp!" He smiled at their astonishment.
"I took lessons while in Germany.