A wave of emotion swept over Lavinia. Her temples throbbed. A lump rose in her throat. Her eyes were streaming. She was inexpressibly sad. Jealousy, resentment, every harsh feeling had disappeared. Though she had tried to combat Vane's dismal forebodings a conviction was gradually forcing itself upon her that he was right. He was a doomed man.
It was quite ten minutes before she was composed enough to enter the cottage. Betty and her mother were tiptoe with excitement. The old woman was too feeble to walk as far as the concert room, but her daughter had gone and listened outside, and as it was a hot night and the windows were open, she heard Lavinia's song perfectly.
"Mercy on me, child, why, an angel couldn't ha' sung more beautiful. La, if it only be like that in Heaven! I'd ha' given anything for mother to ha' been there. I see you come out with a gentleman, but I know manners better than to stare at others as is above me."
"That was Mr. Gay, the poet. It was he who took me to the Duchess of Queensberry. I told you how kind she was to me, didn't I?"
"Aye, so you did. Well, but sure how the folk did clap their hands and roar for you to sing again. They loved to hear you purely an' no wonder. I never heard anything like it. But bless me, Lavinia—beggin' your pardon, which I ought to say Miss Fenton—you don't seem overjoyed."
"The girl's a-tired out," put in the old lady. "I mind it was just the same with my poor mistress Molly. She sometimes couldn't move one foot in front o' t'other when she comed off the stage."
"That's true enough," said Lavinia wearily. "It's the excitement. I shall be myself again after a night's rest."
"Aye, to be sure. Some supper, as is all ready, and then to bed," cried Betty.
The prescription was good enough, but so far as the supper was concerned Lavinia could not, to use Betty's words, "make much of a fist of it." She was glad enough to escape the clack of tongues and the fire of questions and crawl to her room.
Slowly the hours crept by, and when the early summer dawn broke Lavinia was still awake watching the faint streaks of pale gold through the little latticed window.