“Well, if Bertha cannot go, I shall not go,” said the Countess.
“If you choose to ask her to accompany you, I certainly shall not object, but, as I said before, I do not care whether she goes or not.”
He did not repeat this conversation to Bertha and the Countess herself was too politic to refer to it.
Every day, thereafter, the Count virtually haunted the drawing-room in the hope of finding Bertha at the piano. On one occasion he was successful.
“Will you not play for me?” he asked.
“You have heard my repertoire.”
“Do you not sing?”
“Very little; only the simplest of English ballads.”
He took a piece of music from the rack and placed it before her. “Can you play that?”
“I can try.”