She was feeling sentimental, a novel sensation to her.

She rather enjoyed it.
She finished with one of Burns's lyrics; and then told Arthur that it was now his turn, and that she would play for him.

He shook his head, pleading that he was out of practice.
"I wish it," she said, speaking low.

And it pleased her that he made no answer but to ask her what he should sing.

He had a light tenor voice.
It was wobbly at first, but improved as he went on.