"I was glad to see your father there to-night," she said to Ranald.
"And Yankee, mother." "Hush, Hughie; you must call people by their right names.

Now let us have some singing.

I hear Ranald is singing bass these days." "And bully good bass, too," cried Hughie.

"John 'Aleck' says that it's the finest bass in the whole singing school." "Well, Hughie," said his mother, quietly, "I don't think it is necessary to shout even such pleasant information as that.

Now go to your singing, and I shall listen." She lay back in the big chair, looking so pale and weary that Harry hardly believed it was the same woman that had just been keeping a hundred and fifty people keenly alert for an hour and a half, and leading them with such intellectual and emotional power.
"That class is too hard for you, auntie," he said.