pure, sweet tone rose clear and full through the warm night air.
"It's so clear it sounds like a flute!" Miss Varris whispered, amazed.
Preston smiled. "No, it is her voice," he said, "but there is a flute—her father with his flute—accompanying her. I couldn't make it out myself at first, for they keep together on the same notes for a moment, but pretty soon the flute will drop and you will make out the words."
"Maxwellton's braes are bonnie,
Where early fa's the dew,
And 't was there that—"
The flute had dropped, as Preston had said, into the lower notes of an accompaniment, and the words came out clearly.
"Oh, it's 'Annie Laurie'!" the girl exclaimed softly, as she sank back. "Oh, it's 'Annie Laurie'! I never heard it sung so—by a very little girl out of the dark—before!"
"Listen! Here is the second verse!"
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