“And Patty can impersonate the absent singer! And nobody would ever know the difference! Great!” cried Channing. “Oh, Maudie, your trouble is at an end!”
“Now wait,” said Patty, blushing. “I am not a professional singer, but I have studied with good masters, and I have a voice, not so very big, but true. Forgive this plain speaking, but if I could help you out, Miss Kent, I should be so glad.”
“You’re a little darling!” exclaimed Maud Kent; “I wonder if we could carry off such a thing. You see, your coming here, as you just did, a stranger, and talking to me only, looks quite as if you were the arriving singer. That part’s all right. As to your voice, I have no doubts about that, for you didn’t say you sang ‘a little.’ And any way, even a fair singer would do, in addition to the talent I have. But Miss Fairfield, I can’t accept this from you. Will you take just the price I expected to give M’lle Farini?”
“I couldn’t accept money, Miss Kent. That would be impossible. I’m glad to do this to help you out, for it’s no trouble for me to sing, I love to do it. And don’t bother about the payment. Give it to some charity, if you like.”
“Oh, I can’t accept your services without pay! But if you knew what a temptation it is!”
“Yield to it, then,” and Patty smiled at the troubled face. “But first, you must hear my voice. You can’t decide before that. Where can we go?”
“Come up to my apartment, no one will hear us there, and if they should, it’s no great harm. One may practise, I suppose. You may come too, Chick, if you like.”
The three left the tea-room, and as they disappeared through the door, Farnsworth caught sight of Patty’s face.
“What does that mean?” he cried, so angrily that Daisy was startled.
“What does what mean?”