th the voice which had often been ridiculed; I who had often
blasphemously said that I would sell my soul to be able to sing just
passably. Everard Grey's opinion gave me an intoxicated sensation of joy.

"Can you recite?" he inquired.

"Yes," I answered firmly.

"Give us something," said uncle Jay-Jay.

I recited Longfellow's "The Slave's Dream". Everard Grey was quite as
enthusiastic over this as he had been about my singing.

"Such a voice! Such depth and width! Why, she could fill the Centennial
Hall without an effort. All she requires is training."

"By George, she's a regular dab! But I wish she would give us something
not quite so glum," said uncle Jay-Jay.

I let myself go. Carried away by I don't know what sort of a spirit, I
exclaimed, "Very well, I will, if you will wait till I make up, and will
help me."

I disappeared for a few minutes, and returned made up as a fat old Irish
woman, with a smudge of dirt on my face. There was a general laugh.

Would Mr Hawden assist me? Of course he was only too delighted, and
flattered that I had called upon him in preference to the others. What
would he do?

I sat him on a footstool, so that I might with facility put my hand on
his sandy hair, and turning to uncle, commenced:

"Shure, sir, seeing it was a good bhoy yez were afther to run errants,
it's meself that has brought this youngsther for yer inspection. It's a
jool ye'll have in him. Shure I rared him meself, and he says his prayers
every morning. Kape sthill, honey! Faith, ye're not afraid of yer poor
old mammy pullin' yer beautiful cur-r-rls?"

Uncle Jay-Jay was laughing like fun; even aunt Helen deigned to smile;
and Everard was looking on with critical interest.

"Go on," said uncle. But Mr Hawden got huffy at the ridicule which he
suspected I was calling down upon him, and jumped up looking fit to eat
me.

I acted several more impromptu scenes with the other occupants of the
drawing-room. Mr Hawden emitted "Humph!" from the corner where he
grumpily sat, but Mr Grey was full of praise.

"Splendid! splendid!" he exclaimed. "You say you have not had an hour's
training, and never saw a play. Such versatility. Your fortune would be
made on the stage. It is a sin to have such exceptional talent wasting in
the bush. I must take her to Sydney and put her under a good master."

"Indeed, you'll do no such thing," said uncle. "I'll keep her here to
liven up the old barracks. You've got enough puppets o