“He comes every night.”
“And you allow him?”
“It is the manager.”
“But he would not admit him, if you objected.”
“I am afraid to do that.”
“Why?”
“We should have an esclandre. I find he has had so much consideration for me as to tell no one our relation; and as he has never spoken to me, I do the most prudent thing I can, and take no notice. Should he attempt to intrude himself on me, then it will be time to have him stopped in the hall, and I shall do it cou'te que cou'te. Ah, my dear friend, mine is a difficult and trying position.”
After a very long wait, Ina went down and sung her principal song, with the usual bravas and thunders of applause. She was called on twice, and as she retired, Severne stepped forward, and, with a low, obsequious bow, handed her a beautiful bouquet. She took it with a stately courtesy, but never looked nor smiled.
Rhoda saw that and wondered. She thought to herself, “That is carrying politeness a long way. To be sure, she is half a foreigner.”
Having done his nightly homage, Severne left the theater, and soon afterward the performance concluded, and Ina took her friend home. Ashmead was in the hall to show his patroness to her carriage—a duty he never failed in. Rhoda shook hands with him, and he said, “Delighted to see you here, miss. You will be a great comfort to her.”