"
"Poor Perry's hungry likewise, Ann! Come, what of it?"
"You must wait till dinner time."
"Which is when a man's hungry--or should be. Come, lass, famishin' an'
faintin' away we be!"
Laughing, Diana rose and crossed the glade to where, screened among
leafy thickets, stood cart and tent.
"Now as regards paying me wages, Jerry," I began, then stopped and
caught my breath suddenly, for Diana was singing.
Yet could this indeed be Diana's voice--these soft, sweet, rippling
notes mounting in silvery trills so purely sweet, swelling gloriously
until the whole wood seemed full of the wonder of it, and I spellbound
by this simple, oft-heard air, but which, sung thus and thus
glorified, touched me to awed delight.
"Aha!" exclaimed the Tinker, as the liquid notes died away. "She can
sing when she's happy. Jessamy says there's a fortun' in her voice--"
But I was off and across the glade and next moment standing before
her.
"Why--Diana!" I exclaimed. "O Diana!"
"What is it?" she demanded, glancing up from the onion she was
peeling.
"Why have I never heard you sing before? Why do you sing so seldom?"
"Because I only sing when--when I feel like it and to please myself."
"Your voice is wonderful!" I exclaimed. "We will have it cultivated;
you shall be one of the world's great singers, you shall--"
"Don't be silly!" she exclaimed, flushing.
"But I tell you your voice is one in ten thousand!"
"And this onion is one of six, so take a knife and help me with 'em,
'stead of talking foolish--only go wash first; you're black as a
sweep.
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