"I rather fancy I heard U--Miss Rolfe--admit as much. But she can sing, I know."
"And you can play for her," said Mrs. Davenant. "You used to play very nicely when you were a boy," and she sighed.
Jack looked dubious for a moment, then, with sudden assurance and confidence, jumped up.
Una followed him to the piano, and Jack turned out all the music from the canterbury on the floor.
"Come and see if there is anything you know," he said, and Una knelt down beside him.
Of course Jack's hand was on hers in a moment.
"I nearly let the cat out of the bag just then," he said. "I must be careful."
"But why?" asked Una. "Why may we not----" she paused, then, having raised her eyes, she continued--"why may she not know?"
"So she shall," said Jack, "all in good time. I can't consent to share my secret all in one evening! Besides----"
"Cannot you find anything," said Mrs. Davenant, sleepily, from the next room.
Jack stuck up some music on the stand and sat down.
He had played well at one time, in a rough fashion, and had a wonderful ear, and, quite regardless of the music, he launched into a prelude.
"Sing the song you sang the other evening, my darling," he whispered. "I remember every note of it."
Una obeyed instantly. Free from any spark of vanity, she knew nothing of the shyness which assails self-conscious people. Jack, with his acute ear, played a running accompaniment easily enough; it was true he had remembered every note of it.
"You nightingale," he whispered, looking up at her, and the fervent admiration of his eyes made her heart throb.
"Now sing something yourself, Jack," said Mrs. Davenant.
Jack thought a moment, his fingers straying over the keys, then softening his full baritone voice as much as possible, he sang--"Yes, dear, I love but thee!"
It was an old English song, one of the sweetest of the old melodies which even now have power to rouse a _blase_ audience to enthusiasm.
Una stood behind him entranced, bewitched; he sang every word to _her_.
Unconsciously she drew nearer and put her hand upon his shoulder, timidly, caressingly, and as the music ceased, Jack turned and caught it prisoner in his.
"Yes, dear, I love but thee!" he murmured.
"And I"--she breathed, her eyes melting with passionate tenderness--"and I love but thee."