s unaware of our entrance.

"Now, then," continued our hostess, "it has gone one bell, and we have
not very much time to spare. Which of you gentlemen will favour us with
a song?"

"I suggest, madam, that you should call upon Mr Leigh," said Monroe.
"In response to a leading question put to him by our friend Kennedy, the
young man has pleaded guilty to a limited ability as a singer, and he
has also admitted that there are times when he scrapes upon a fiddle.
Knowing Britishers as I do, it is my experience that when one of them
goes so far as to say he can play or sing at all, he--or she--can
usually do it pretty well; I am therefore not without hope that in Leigh
we shall find we have a valuable addition to our stock of musical
talent."

"You don't say!" ejaculated Mrs Vansittart vivaciously. "Well, I am
glad; for I believe I have heard every one of your songs at least half a
dozen times, Mr Monroe; and Mr Kennedy's too, to say nothing about the
doctor and the purser. Do you sing and play by ear, or from music, Mr
Leigh?"

I explained that I did both, but preferred to have the music before me;
and in answer to a further question I admitted the existence of certain
books and sheets of music among my other belongings. Thereupon I was
ordered off to my cabin, with instructions to fetch them and my fiddle
forthwith. When I returned, Kennedy was trolling forth the song
"Kathleen Mavourneen" in a deep, rich bass voice that made the spacious
apartment ring again, while Mrs Vansittart accompanied him on the
piano. But for all the attention that the youngsters gave to the song
they might as well have been deaf!

When the song was finished, Mrs Vansittart beckoned me to her, and,
taking my music from me, glanced through it. Among it were two volumes
of _Standard English Songs_, a book of songs by Schubert, a book of
sacred melodies consisting chiefly of solos and duets from the
oratorios, another containing a selection of songs from various operas,
and, in sheet, a few ballads and a quantity of music specially composed
for the violin. As she glanced through my budget, our hostess volubly
expressed her delight, and was pleased to compliment me very highly upon
the taste which had dictated my choice. Then, opening one of the books
of English songs and placing it before her on the piano, she invited me
to sing "Twickenham Ferry". The song happened to be rather a favourite
of mine, and when I noticed the exquisite per