Louise's eyes followed her with a deep and questioning gaze.
CHAPTER X
The Curate of Lindfield had arranged a Benefit Concert for the refugees. It was to be held in the schoolhouse on the last Saturday in September, and the proceeds were to be divided among the Belgian refugees of the neighbourhood, to whom also complimentary tickets were sent. The two front rows of seats were reserved exclusively for them.
For weeks past the excitement among the amateur performers who had offered their services had been intense. Miss Snelgrove, the Whitakers' nearest neighbour, who was going to sing "Pur dicesti" and "Little Grey Home in the West," had been alternately gargling and practising all day, until it was often hard to make out which of the two she was actually doing.
Finally her throat became so sore that Mrs. Mellon, of "The Grange," had to be asked to sing in her stead.
Mrs. Mellon, stout and good-tempered, said she would do anything for charity; so the "Habanera" from "Carmen" was put on the program instead of "Pur dicesti" and the "Little Grey Home"; and Mrs. Mellon heroically untrimmed her best hat, so as to have the red velvet rose which adorned it to wear in her hair.
"But surely," said Miss Snelgrove, who had magnanimously gone to see her on the eve of the concert to ask how her throat felt—she herself spoke in a hoarse whisper—"surely you are not going to sing Carmen in costume, are you?"
"No, not exactly in costume," said Mrs. Mellon, trying the rose first over the left temple and then under her right ear, "but I think the dress ought to be suited to the song; don't you? I have had my black lace shortened, and have added a touch of colour ... here and there...." Mrs. Mellon indicated her ample bosom and her portly hips. "A scarlet sash, and the red rose in my hair will be quite effective. I had thought of having a cigarette in my hand—as Carmen, you know—but Mr. Mellon and the vicar thought better not.
"L'amour est enfant de Bohêm-ah,
"See tew ne maim pah, je t'aim-ah"....