"Well, wait, do wait quietly for one minute."
So for a brief pause there was silence; and the stir of the leaves and little rustle of unseen creeping things could be heard, and then, yes, there it was! We all raised a warning finger, but the throbbing note broke through the stillness; a little gurgle, a break, and then a longer effort.
"Oh, my! Is that it? It makes me creep all over. Oh, don't let us talk. Will it go on?"
Yes, it went on. After some tentative "jugs" and "jars" it broke into a full-throated throb, and even our fair visitor's exclamation did not scare it.
"It is singing to-night," said One; "really, it must be in honour of you, Mamie. It seldom sings with such vigour!"
In the centre of the sloping field grew a fine clump of trees, birch, chestnut and one or two straight pines; the nightingale had chosen this for his stage, and now again quite distinctly rose the gurgling note, and continued, too, right through Miss Mamie's piercing whisper.
"Why! it's purfectly lovely! I guess I must take one or two back to Amurica. This grove of trees, the dense blue sky, the silence of all you dear people, and just that one divine voice throbbing with love! It makes me feel like melting. If anyone proposed to me now I should just have no strength to refuse. Don't feel nervous, most Reverend Young Man. I am really thinking of that fascinating Mr Jim. Say! has he gone to bed?"
Jim! Where was he? I saw the Young Man give a start, and a quick glance showed me we had both solved the mystery of that persistently gurgling bird. "He ought to be doing his preparation," I said in firm tones.
"Don't, Mary! how you shouted. Now he has stopped. Oh, what a pity!"
The Young Man whistled softly, and after a pause a little answering whistle came from another spot.