When we returned into the house, Mr. Manby asked Rosa to sing; and as we all pressed her to do so, she sat down at the pianoforte, and sang in succession English ballads, Irish melodies, and Jacobite songs, which last she seemed to take particular pleasure in. During a pause, Mr. Escourt said,
"Pray, Miss Moore, what was it you were singing to-day before dinner, in your own garden? Something very wild and pretty."
"Did you detect me making a noise?" she asked with a smile; "a shocking noise, my little brother calls it. He did not wish to find fault with me himself the other day, so he whispered to me while he was playing with some wooden animals, 'Rosa, these deer say to me that you make a shocking noise.' But this is what you mean, I suppose," and she began Montrose's love-song.
"This may be all very well," exclaimed Mr. Escourt, when she had sung it, "for a man who fights and writes verses; who carries, as he says, a sword and a pen, as should his mistress discard him, he would no doubt console himself with that same sword and pen: but I should think, with nine women out of ten, a dismissal would be the result of so very dictatorial a declaration. With, only listen to him:" and he repeated the following lines:—
"Like Alexander I would reign,
And I would reign alone;
My soul did evermore disdain
A rival in my throne,
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch
To win or lose it all.
Would you stand this, Miss Moore?"
"Why," she said, as her fingers ran carelessly over the keys, "I should not feel much inclined to let Alexander reign at all; but I should not quarrel with him for choosing to reign alone. Would you, Ellen?"
"No," I answered, "only for believing it possible that he did not reign alone."
I involuntarily turned my eyes towards Edward's as I said this. They met his, and their expression was so earnest and affectionate that a thrill of pleasure ran through me.
Mr. Escourt laughed and said,