“Never in any place here but the convent,” she said, decidedly. “But you, sir. Perhaps you were in B—— sometime?”
“Never,” said Hugh.
“Then you have, perhaps, been in my country—in Spain?”
“Not yet,” said Hugh.
They both smiled; and then, suddenly remembering that they were strangers, talked more reservedly of the music, which the princess appeared to know well.
“I had the pianoforte score for a week,” she informed Dr. Paull. “The composer lent me his manuscript. I played it for him when he was in Madrid.”
She was telling Hugh of what was to come during the ensuing acts, when the box-door opened, and the count came in.
“The prince requested me to escort you home at the end of the act, madame la princesse,” he said in English, bowing very slightly to Dr. Paull.
“But my husband? Where is he, monsieur?”
The count shrugged his shoulders, with an appealing smile, to Lady Forwood.