There was a whispered consultation between her and the accompanist, a youth who always plays at all Cross Loman concerts, and whom we look upon as being almost part of the piano.
To the surprise of everybody, and to the delight of a few, he struck up the air of “The Bluebells of Scotland.”
“‘Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?’
‘He’s gone with streaming banners where noble deeds are done,
And it’s, oh! in my heart, I wish him safe at home.’”
The simplicity of the air was suited to Mrs. Harter’s clear voice, and she sang it without affectation.
“That’s more like,” Mrs. Fazackerly murmured to Captain Patch, who nodded emphatically. The accompanist was introducing an immense number of runs, variations, and repetitions of the well-known theme, between each of the verses. But while she was singing he subdued his accompaniment to the merest murmur:
“‘Oh, what, tell me what, if your Highland lad be slain?
Oh, what, tell me what, if your Highland lad be slain?’