sing it!" he said, quickly, for he was only
too rejoiced that she should prefer this small request, as showing that
she did take some little interest in him and what he could do. "I will
make a stipulation that I sing it, if I sing anything. Miss Lestrange
won't mind, I know."

"I almost think you should go under an assumed name," Miss Honnor said,
presently, with a bit of a laugh. "I dare say the people wouldn't
recognise you in ordinary dress. And then, when the amateur vocalists
had been going on with their Pretty-Janes and Meet-Me-by-Moonlights,
when you gave them 'The Bonnie Earl o' Moray,' as you would sing it, I
should think amazement would be on most faces. But I dare say Lady Adela
has had it announced in the _Inverness Courier_ that you are to sing,
for they want to make a grand success of the concert, to help to clear
off the debt; and of course all the people from the shooting-lodges will
be coming, for it isn't every autumn they have a chance of hearing Mr.
Lionel Moore in Ross-shire."

Really, she was becoming quite complaisant!--this proud, unapproachable
fisher-maiden, who seemed to live, remote and isolated, in a world all
of her own. And so she was coming to this amateur concert, merely to
hear him sing? Be sure the first thing he did that evening, on entering
the drawing-room after dinner, was to go up to Miss Georgie Lestrange
with a humble little speech, asking her whether she would object to his
borrowing that particular ballad from her repertory. The smiling and
gracious young damsel instantly replied that, on the contrary, she would
be delighted to play the accompaniment for him. Would he look at the
music now? He did look at it; found it simple enough; imagined that the
refrain verse might be made rather effective. Would he try it over now?
Yes, if she would be so kind. She forthwith went to the piano, he
following; and at once there was silence in the long, low-ceilinged
drawing-room. Of course this was but a trial, and the room had not been
constructed with a view to any acoustic requirements; nevertheless, the
fine and penetrating _timbre_ of his trained voice told all the same;
indeed, it is probable there was a lump in the throat of more than one
of those young ladies when he sang the pathetic refrain, with its proud
and sonorous finish--

"O lang may his lady-love
Look frae the Castle Doune,
Ere she see the Earl o' Moray
Come sounding through the toun."

Simple as