What could he do
for him? He could ask Margaret to sing. Other folks beside her old
doting grandfather thought a deal of her songs. So Margaret began
some of her noble old-fashioned songs. She knew no modern music
(for which her auditors might have been thankful), but she poured
her rich voice out in some of the old canzonets she had lately
learnt while accompanying the musical lecturer on his tour.
Mary was amused to see how the young sailor sat entranced; mouth,
eyes, all open, in order to catch every breath of sound. His very
lids refused to wink, as if afraid in that brief proverbial interval
to lose a particle of the rich music that floated through the room.
For the first time the idea crossed Mary's mind that it was possible
the plain little sensible Margaret, so prim and demure, might have
power over the heart of the handsome, dashing spirited Will Wilson.
Job, too, was rapidly changing his opinion of his new guest. The
flying fish went a great way, and his undisguised admiration for
Margaret's singing carried him still further.
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