What wonder if Kenneth Hastings came under the spell of the song and the singer? The New England girl was a breath of summer in the hard and wintry coldness of his life.
"Who taught you to sing?" he asked abruptly.
"The birds," she answered, in a joyous, laughing tone.
"I can well believe that," he continued, "but who were your other instructors?"
Then, in brief, she told him of her musical training.
Would she sing one of his favorite arias some day? naming the aria.
She hummed a snatch of it.
"Go on," he urged.
"Not now; some other time."
"Won't you give us an evening recital soon?" asked John Clayton.