Enid at once put out a caressing hand.
"I did not mean to be too inquisitive, Hubert dear. But the Tollemaches are very musical, and they were talking a great deal about her. They said they saw you at the concert when she came out—some Italian teacher's semi-private concert—and they seemed to think that you knew the whole set of people who were there."
Mentally Hubert made some uncharitable remarks on the future destiny of the Tollemaches; but he controlled himself so far as to answer coolly—
"I know several of that set, certainly. I know Miss West a little."
"How delightful," cried Enid. "I should like to meet some of these great artists. Will you ever be able to introduce me to her, do you think, Hubert?"
"I think not," said Hubert, knitting his brows. He did not find himself able to turn the subject quite as easily as he could have wished.
"Oh, isn't she nice?" hazarded Enid doubtfully. "I always fancy that the people who sing and act in public can't be quite as nice as the people who stay in their own home-circle. I know that you will think me very narrow-minded to say so, but I can't help it."
"I am afraid that I do think it rather narrow-minded," said Hubert quietly, but with a dangerous lighting of his eyes. "You must surely know that some of these singers are as good, as noble, as womanly as any of your sheltered young ladies in their home-circles, who have not genius enough to make themselves talked of by the world!"
"Oh, yes, I suppose so!" said Enid, quite unconscious of the storm that she was exciting in Hubert's breast. "But it is difficult to understand why they prefer a public life to a private one. Do you think they really like appearing on the stage?"
"I am sure they do," said Hubert, with a short laugh. "You cannot understand it as yet, I suppose; you will understand it by-and-by. It would be a very poor lookout for a novelist and playwright like myself, Enid, if every one thought as you do."