CHAPTER XXIV 344
opened the piano, and entreated him, for the love of heaven, to give me a song. He said I was a capricious witch, and that he would rather sing another time; but I averred that no time was like the present.
" Did I like his voice?" he asked.
" Very much." I was not fond of pampering that susceptible vanity of his; but for once, and from motives of expediency, I would e ' en soothe and stimulate it.
" Then, Jane, you must play the accompaniment." " Very well, sir, I will try."
I did try, but was presently swept off the stool and denominated " a little bungler." Being pushed unceremoniously to one side-- which was precisely what I wished-- he usurped my place, and proceeded to accompany himself: for he could play as well as sing. I hied me to the window-recess. And while I sat there and looked out on the still trees and dim lawn, to a sweet air was sung in mellow tones the following strain:-
" The truest love that ever heart Felt at its kindled core, Did through each vein, in quickened start, The tide of being pour.
" Her coming was my hope each day, Her parting was my pain; The chance that did her steps delay Was ice in every vein.
" I dreamed it would be nameless bliss, As I loved, loved to be; And to this object did I press As blind as eagerly.
" But wide as pathless was the space That lay our lives between, And dangerous as the foamy race Of ocean-surges green.
" And haunted as a robber-path Through wilderness or wood; For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath, Between our spirits stood.