So Lavinia made her appearance in a plain dress, apron, mob cap, and of course prodigious hoops. Her hair was arrayed neatly and not powdered. There was powder enough and to spare on the wigs of the beaux in front, and on the elaborate head-dresses of the belles.
Lavinia's unadorned dress suited her natural and easy carriage and made her doubly attractive. Not a hand was raised when she bowed, but she could see that every eye was turned upon her with expectancy and curiosity. But there was also a certain amount of indifference which provoked her. It could hardly be supposed that anything out of fashion would be of interest to such modish folk.
Lavinia chose her favourite—"My lodging it is on the cold ground."
There were not a few aged bucks, painted and powdered and patched, aping the airs and graces of younger gallants, who could remember Charles II. and Moll Davies. They were startled when they heard Lavinia's liquid notes in the old ballad—they felt that for a brief space they were recovering their youth.
As for the rest, they were conscious of a pleasant surprise. Against the simplicity and pathos of the old ballad Buononcini's stilted artificialities sounded tame and monotonous. When Lavinia finished applause filled the room. She had to sing again.
"You've caught 'em, my dear," said Palmer enthusiastically. "Before a week's over you'll be the talk of Hampstead. You must stay here and sing whenever I want you. Not every night—that would make you common. Only now and again, just as a novelty. Do you understand?"
Lavinia knew the ways of showmen quite well. She smiled and nodded, and her eyes wandering towards the door of the ante-room in which she and Palmer had been talking, whom should her gaze light upon but Mr. Gay! Palmer was very well acquainted with Gay by sight, and hastening towards the visitor made him a low bow.
"I am highly honoured, sir, by your presence here to-night," said Palmer, "I hope you did not think my sending you a ticket was taking a liberty."
"Tut, tut, man! 'Twas very polite of you," returned Gay good-humouredly. "I'm glad to be able to congratulate you on the success of your new acquisition, especially as the little lady interests me greatly—as, indeed, you mentioned in your note, though how you came to know of that interest I'm at a loss to conceive, unless she told you so herself."
"Not directly, sir, I confess. But she chanced to remark that she had sung to you and to Dr. Pepusch, whom I am fortunate in numbering among my friends."