"I certainly do not wish my brother to ruin himself for life, as he would do if she were such a—such a person as you imply." Mrs. Vane's lips were evidently much too delicate to say in plain terms what she meant. "If she were as respectable as she seems to be talented, of course objections about birth and station might be overlooked. But my brother has expectations from relatives who take the old-fashioned views about a woman's position; and the mere fact of her being a singer or an actress might be against her in their eyes. It would be much better for him if the whole thing were broken off."
She was purposely vague and diplomatic.
"Mr. Lepel's his own master, of course," said the manager; "so perhaps he knows all we can tell him—and more. But you are welcome to use any information that I can give you." His little green eyes gleamed with malice, and a triumphant smile showed itself at the corners of his thick hanging lips. "Miss West's career is well known. Lalli, a member of our orchestra, picked her out of the streets when she was sixteen or seventeen, trained her a bit, and brought her here. We soon found out what sort of person she was, and I spoke my mind to Lalli about it; for, though we're not particular as to a girl's character, still now and then——Well, she was under his protection at the time, and there was nothing much to be done; so we let her alone. He died suddenly about a couple of years ago; and then, I believe, she accosted Mr. Lepel in the street, and went to his rooms and fastened herself upon him, as women of her sort sometimes do. He took her up, sent her to Italy for a bit, put her under the care of that woman della Scala—as a blind to the public, I suppose—and got her brought out as a singer; and she seems to have had a fair amount of success."
Mr. Ferguson's account of Cynthia's career had an intermixture of fact, but it was so artfully combined with falsehood that it was difficult to disentangle one from the other.
Flossy listened with keen attention; it struck her at once that Mr. Ferguson was blackening the girl's character out of spite.
"Do you know where she came from before your musician, Lalli, discovered her, Mr. Ferguson?"
"No, I do not, madam. But I have followed her course with interest ever since"—which was true.
"And do you know where she resided before he died?"
"No, madam—I really do not"—which was utterly false. "Perhaps I could ascertain for you, and let you know."
Flossy thanked him and rose. She had not attained her object precisely; but she had received information that might prove extremely valuable. The manager bowed her out of his room politely, and called to one of his subordinates to show her down-stairs.