throat.

'I've a deep voice for my age and size,' she explained. 'Contralto, you
know, but it ought to be stronger,' and she began, her face all dark
against the last of the soft pink sunset:

'I have given my heart to a flower,
Though I know it is fading away,
Though I know it will live but an hour
And leave me to mourn its decay!

'Isn't that touchingly sweet? Then the last verse--I wish I had my harp,
dear--goes as low as my register will reach.'She drew in her chin, and
took a deep breath:

'Ye desolate whirlwinds that rave,
I charge you be good to my dear!
She is all--she is all that I have,
And the time of our parting is near!'

'Beautiful!' said Una. 'And did they like it?' 'Like it? They were
overwhelmed--accables, as Rene says. My dear, if I hadn't seen it, I
shouldn't have believed that I could have drawn tears, genuine tears, to
the eyes of four grown men. But I did! Rene simply couldn't endure
it! He's all French sensibility. He hid his face and said, "Assez,
Mademoiselle! C'est plus fort que moi! Assez!" And Sir Arthur blew his
nose and said, "Good Ged! This is worse than Assaye!" While Dad sat with
the tears simply running down his cheeks.'

'And what did Doctor Break do?'

'He got up and pretended to look out of the window, but I saw his little
fat shoulders jerk as if he had the hiccoughs. That was a triumph. I
never suspected him of sensibility.'

'Oh, I wish I'd seen! I wish I'd been you,'said Una, clasping her
hands. Puck rustled and rose from the fern, just as a big blundering
cock-chafer flew smack against Una's cheek.

When she had finished rubbing the place, Mrs Vincey called to her that
Pansy had been fractious, or she would have come long before to help her
strain and pour off. 'It didn't matter,' said Una; 'I just waited. Is
that old Pansy barging about the lower pasture now?'

'No,' said Mrs Vincey, listening. 'It sounds more like a horse being
galloped middlin' quick through the woods; but there's no road there.
I reckon it's one of Gleason's colts loose. Shall I see you up to the
house, Miss Una?'

'Gracious, no! thank you. What's going to hurt me?' said Una, and she
put her stool away behind the oak, and strolled home through the gaps
that old Hobden kept open for her.

Brookland Road

I was very well pleased with what I knowed,
I reckoned myself no fool--
Till I met with a maid on the Brookland Road
Th