He had never heard her sing before, had never heard any good singing for many years indeed, and he was fond of singing.

The song she sang was a Portuguese love-song, very tender and passionate, addressed by a bereaved lover to his dead mistress, and she put much expression into it.

Presently she ceased, and he noticed that her beautiful eyes were full of tears.

So she could feel! "That is too sad," she said with a little laugh, and then burst into a Kaffir boat-song, of which the Settlement natives, joyous in the prospect of once more seeing their home, took up the chorus gleefully.
Presently she wearied of the boat-chant.

"I am tiring you," she said; "I dare say that you do not care for singing." "On the contrary, Miss Rodd, I am very fond of it.