Lady Bell sat with lowered lids and pale face, and when the last note died away and she looked up, her eyes were moist.
“My dear,” she said, in a low voice, “where did you learn to sing like that?”
Una, half frightened at the effect she had produced, flushed and sank back into her seat.
“I have never learned,” she said, quietly.
There was a murmur, and Lady Clarence turned and looked at her curiously.
“You have a beautiful voice,” she said, “and exquisite taste, or you could not sing as you do. It is a pity you have not been thoroughly trained. You should have a master.”
“She shall!” said Lady Bell, impulsively. “She shall have the best. It would be criminal to let such a gift be wasted!”
Jack looked up with a flush of pleased gratitude, and Lady Bell happened to catch that glance.
With a slight start she turned pale, and looked from his face all aglow with the fervor of loving admiration to Una’s downcast one, and then, with something like a shudder, she, too, sank back into the seat.
“Isn’t—isn’t it cold?” she said, in a strangely changed voice.