When it was finished there was an outbreak of applause and even cheers, which showed that all reserve had disappeared and the company were prepared to give themselves up with childish delight to singing. Another college song was sung with the same spirit as the first, and Sinclair was pressed to lead still another.
"I will," he said at last, "if you will allow me to choose one as characteristic of our French Canadian people as those we were favoured with by Miss MacAllister are of the Highland Scotch."
In response to the general consent he sang some verses of—
"En roulant ma boule roulant,
En roulant ma boule,"
and a number of the company joined in the simple refrain. The song which had so often echoed on lake and stream, by the evening campfire, where the paddle dipped, or in the frosty stillness of the snow-laden forests of the north rang out through the scented darkness of the warm tropic night.
A number of other songs were rendered by different members of the party. Then Sinclair was called for again.
"I am afraid that my repertoire has come very near the point of being exhausted," he said. "I have only those songs the words of which I can remember, and the selection is not very choice."
This time it was a plaintive negro melody of the Sunny South. Again Miss MacAllister found herself singing heartily with the rest in the refrain, and after the first verse leading the chorus while Sinclair sang bass. When the song was done she suddenly said to herself:
"What a silly I am making of myself! I came in here determined to get even with that doctor. And here I am singing with him and for him like a sissy in a Sunday-school concert. He can do his own singing from now on. I'll pay him back yet."
The rest were urging Sinclair to sing again, when Miss MacAllister said: