She had been trying to tell Aunt Adeline all about it, but you could see she wasn't interested. She kept on saying "Yes" and "Oh" and "Really"? in the wrong places. She never could listen to you for long together, and this afternoon she was evidently thinking of something else, perhaps of John Severn, who had been home on leave and gone again without coming to the Fieldings.
"'I've been to my sweetheart, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart and I fain would lie down…'"
Mournful, and beautiful, Colin's song came through the windows, and Anne thought of Jerrold who was not there. He was staying in Yorkshire with some friends of his, the Durhams. He would be back to-morrow. He would have got away from the Durhams.
…"'make my bed soon…'"
To-morrow. To-morrow.
"Who are the Durhams, Auntie?"
"He's Sir Charles Durham. Something important in the Punjaub. Some high government official. He'll be useful to Jerrold if he gets a job out there. They're going back in October. I suppose I shall have to ask. Maisie Durham before they sail."
Maisie Durham. Maisie Durham. But to-morrow he would have got away.
"'What will you leave your lover, Rendal, my son?
What will you leave your lover, my pretty one?
A rope to hang her, mother,
A rope to hang her, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart and I fain would lie down.'"
"Sing something cheerful, Colin, for Goodness sake," said his mother.
But Colin sang it again.