ecome aware of her
presence.

"I have none to bring," said Erica. "I do not profess to sing; I only
sing our own Scotch airs."

"Exactly what I said!" exclaimed Donovan. "And Scotch singing of Scotch
airs is like nothing else in the world."

Whether he mesmerized them both, or whether his stronger will and higher
purpose prevailed, it would be hard to say. Certainly Erica was quite as
unwilling to sing as Lady Caroline was to favor her with a request. Both
had to yield, however, and Erica, whether she would or not, had to serve
her roomful of enemies and a great deal of good it did her.

Out of the quiet conservatory they came into the heat and glare and
babel of voices; Lady Caroline feeling as if she had been caught in her
own trap, Erica wavering between resentful defiance and the desire to
substitute Donovan's "How can I serve?" for "What do they think?"

She sat down to the piano, which was in a far-away corner, and soon she
had forgotten her audience altogether. Although she had had little time
or opportunity for a thorough musical education, she had great taste,
and was musical by nature; she sang her national airs, as very few could
have sung them, and so wild and pathetic was the air she had chosen,
"The Flowers of the Forest," that the roar of conversation at once
ceased. She knew nothing whatever about the listeners; the air had taken
her back to her father's recovery at Codrington the year before. She was
singing to him once more.

The old gentleman who had sat on her right hand at dinner came up now
with his first remark.

"Thank you, that was a real treat, and a very rare treat. I wonder
whether you would sing an old favorite of mine 'Oh, why did ye gang,
lassie?'"

Erica at once complied, and there was such pathos in her low, clear
voice, that tears stood in the eyes of more than one listener. She
had never dared to sing that song at home since one evening some weeks
before, when her father had just walked out of the room, unable to bear
the mournful refrain "I never, never thought ye wad leave me!" The song
was closely associated with the story of that summer, and she sang it to
perfection.

Donovan Farrant came toward her again at the close.

"I want to introduce my wife to you," he said.

And Erica found that the young married lady in the pale-blue silk, whom
she had singled out as the one approachable lady in the room, was Mrs.
Farrant. She was very bright, and sunshiny, and talkative. E