Diane, satisfied that Macdonald had scored, called upon Sheba.
"I want you to sing for us, dear, if you will."
Sheba accompanied herself. The voice of the girl had no unusual range,
but it was singularly sweet and full of the poignant feeling that
expresses the haunting pathos of her race.
"It's well I know ye, Sheve Cross, ye weary, stony hill,
An' I'm tired, och, I'm tired to be looking on ye still.
For here I live the near side an' he is on the far,
An' all your heights and hollows are between us, so they are.
Och anee!"
Gordon, as he listened, felt the strange hunger of that homesick cry
steal through his blood. He saw his own emotions reflected in the face
of the Scotch-Canadian, who was watching with a tense interest the slim,
young figure at the piano, the girl whose eyes were soft and dewy with
the mysticism of her people, were still luminous with the poetry of the
child in spite of the years that heralded her a woman.
Elliot intercepted the triumphant sweep of Diane's glance from Macdonald
to her husband. In a flash it lit up for him the words he had heard on
the hotel porch. Diane, an inveterate matchmaker, intended her cousin to
marry Colby Macdonald.
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