"No," she said, "it is too cold over here; let us come to the fire," and
she slipped away to her father's side. After that she was silent until it
was time to say good-night, for no one expected her to speak, although
Dick was the centre of the group, and did most of the talking. Later in
the evening they had some whist, and after that, just before the party
broke up, Mr. Denner was asked to sing.

He rose, coughed deprecatingly, and glanced sidewise at Mr. Forsythe;
he feared he was out of tune. But Miss Deborah insisted with great
politeness.

"If Miss Ruth would be so good as to accompany me," said Mr. Denner, "I
might at least make the attempt."

Miss Ruth was shy about playing in public, but Mr. Denner encouraged her.
"You must overcome your timidity, my dear Miss Ruth," he said. "I--I am
aware that it is quite painful; but one ought not to allow it to become
a habit, as it were. It should be conquered in early life."

So Miss Ruth allowed him to lead her to the piano. There was a little
stir about finding the music, before they were ready to begin; then Mr.
Denner ran his fingers through his brown wig, and, placing his small lean
hands on his hips, rocked back and forth on his little heels, while he
sang in a sweet but somewhat light and uncertain voice,--

"Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie! artless lassie!
Will ye wi' me tent the flocks,
Will ye be my dearie, O?"