Lady James would not undertake Schubert, nor would Mrs. Leslie, nor any of the Miss Veseys.
"Margaret will, I am sure," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
Margaret who had been detained in conversation by one of the officers, who had heard she had a good fortune, rose, and proffered her services. The officer, knowing he must undergo a certain amount of trouble if he hoped to get her money, led her to the piano, and arranged the music. Margaret took her place with the pleasing consciousness that Mr. Haveloc was about a yard behind her, listening with eager delight to the singer. It was well worth listening to, never was a clearer, or sweeter voice, and her German was perfect. Even Everard said, "He never had—" which was rather a long sentence for him, and all united in begging for something else.
Miss Campbell allowed herself to be persuaded, and selected one of Vestris's ballads.
"You will not want me for that, I think," said Margaret, looking up to Miss Campbell.
"No, thank you very much, how beautifully you play," said Miss Campbell, making way for her.
Some one moved a chair out of her path, it was Mr. Haveloc. She bowed, glided quietly across the room, and sank into a chair, heart-sick. Mr. Haveloc, who had followed her, leaned against a table by her side. She felt so humbled now that she knew the real motives of his conduct, that she did not venture to lift up her eyes, but sat with her hands clasped listlessly in her lap, trying to feel calm and composed. He remained silent for a few moments, finding it as difficult as she did, to be calm.
"I did not know you, yesterday, Miss Capel," he said at last, "at least, not till I had put you in the carriage. I am very near-sighted."