Mr Stuart and the deacons sat silently drinking in
the music. At length the rector rose. "I think perhaps we had
better drop the matter under discussion for to-day," he said. "We
can meet here Monday evening at five o'clock if agreeable to you all,
and finish the details. There are other and more important affairs
waiting for me now."
The deacons departed, and the young rector sank back in his chair,
and gave himself up to the enjoyment of the sounds which flooded not
only the room, but his brain, heart and soul.
"Queer," he said to himself as the door closed behind the human
pillars of his church. "Queer, but I felt as if the presence of
those men was an intrusion upon something belonging personally to me.
I wonder why I am so peculiarly affected by this girl's music? It
arouses my brain to action, it awakens ambition and gives me courage
and hope, and yet--" He paused before allowing his feeling to shape
itself into thoughts. Then closing his eyes and clasping his hands
behind his head while the music surged about him, he lay back in his
easy-chair as a bather might lie back and float upon the water, and
his unfinished sentence took shape thus: "And yet stronger than all
other feelings which her music arouses in me, is the desire to
possess the musician for my very own for ever; ah, well! the Roman
Catholics are wise in not allowing their priests and their nuns to
listen to all even so-called sacred music.
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