"I did not hear the song," she said.
"No," replied Garth. "At first, I forgot. And when I remembered, I had been thinking of other things, and somehow—ah, Miss Gray! I cannot sing to-night. My soul is dumb with longing."
"I know," said Jane, gently; "and I am going to sing to you."
A faint look of surprise crossed Garth's face. "Do you sing?" he asked. "Then why have you not sung before?"
"When I arrived," said Jane, "Dr. Rob asked me whether I played. I said: 'A little.' Thereupon he concluded I sang a little, too; and he forbade me, most peremptorily, either to play a little; or sing a little, to you. He said he did not want you driven altogether mad."
Garth burst out laughing.
"How like old Robbie," he said. "And, in spite of his injunctions, are you going to take the risk, and 'sing a little,' to me, to-night?"
"No," said Jane. "I take no risks. I am going to sing you one song. Here is the purple cord, at your right hand. There is nothing between you and the piano; and you are facing towards it. If you want to stop me—you can come."
She walked to the instrument, and sat down.
Over the top of the grand piano, she could see him, leaning back in his chair; a slightly amused smile playing about his lips. He was evidently still enjoying the humour of Dr. Rob's prohibition.