When the last note died away she looked towards the sofa. Lady Cardington was gone. Lady Holme leaned her arm on the piano and put her chin in her hand.
Half aloud she repeated the last words of the refrain: “Nell’amore ogni dolcezza.” And then she murmured:
And then she repeated, “Poor--” and stopped. Again the faint cloud of fear was in her eyes.
THE Charity Concert was to be given in Manchester House, one of the private palaces of London, and as Royalty had promised to be present, all the tickets were quickly sold. Among those who bought them were most of the guests who had been present at the Holmes’ dinner-party when Lady Holme lost her temper and was consoled by Robin Pierce. Robin of course was in Rome, but Lady Cardington, Lady Manby, Mrs. Wolfstein, Sir Donald, Mr. Bry took seats. Rupert Carey also bought a ticket. He was not invited to great houses any more, but on this public occasion no one with a guinea to spend was unwelcome. To Lady Holme’s surprise the day before the concert Fritz informed her that he was going too.
“You, Fritz!” she exclaimed. “But it’s in the afternoon.”
“You’ll be bored to death. You’ll go to sleep. Probably you’ll snore.”
He straddled his legs and looked attentively at the toes of his boots. Lady Holme wondered why he was going. Had Miss Schley made a point of it? She longed to know. The cruel curiosity which the angel was ever trying to beat down rose up in her powerfully.
Her husband was speaking with some hesitation.
“Let’s have a squint at the programme, will you?”
She gave it to him and watched him narrowly as he looked quickly over it.
“Some Imitations,” he said. “What’s that mean?”
“Didn’t you know Miss Schley was a mimic?”
“When she began in America. She was a mimic in the music-halls.”
He stood looking very grave and puzzled for a minute, then he stared hard at his wife.
Again there was a silence. Then he said--
“I say, I don’t know that I want you to sing at that affair to-morrow.”
He hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other almost like a great boy.
“I don’t know what she’s up to,” he answered at last.
Lady Holme felt her heart beat faster. Was her husband going to open up a discussion of the thing that had been turning her life to gall during these last weeks--his flirtation, his _liaison_--if it were a _liaison_; she did not know--with the American? The woman who had begun to idealise Fritz and the woman who was desperately jealous of him both seemed to be quivering within her.