Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the cloister.djvu/118

 the piano again, "we will have the great aria in the second act—Ah, mon fils. I will play the accompaniment here, for there is little action. We have only the proud old mother standing behind her son's chair blessing him for saving her life, though to do it he gave up the woman he loved. He sits at a little table with his head on his arms, and she sings:

Never had the great singer sung as she sang then. The nun held her breath as the glorious voice sobbed itself into silence. And by some trick of imagination—or who shall say how or why?—before Sister Cecilia's eyes rose a vast, bare stage, a table with a broken man drooping over it, an old mother singing her heart out at his side. Tears fell from the nun's eyes on her tightly clasped hands that lay in her lap, but she was unconscious of them.

"Now you hear the 'Alms Song,'" said the singer. "Here Fidès thinks her son is dead, and begs in the street for money that she may buy masses for the repose of his soul."