“Which one?”
“‘Annie Laurie,’ if you please.”
She sang the old ballad with a wealth of feeling in her deep voice, and even Lynn, who was listening critically, was forced to admit that she did it well.
At eleven, the guest went away, his hostess cordially inviting him to come again.
“What a charming man,” said Margaret.
“An old brick,” added Lynn, with more force than elegance.
“Yes,” replied Aunt Peace, concealing a yawn behind her fan, “it is a thousand pities that he has no social position.”