Then she rang for her maid, and dressed for dinner, and the concert which should follow.
CHAPTER VI
THE VEIL IS LIFTED
"MISS CHAMPION! Oh, here you are! Your turn next, please. The last item of the local programme is in course of performance, after which the duchess explains Velma's laryngitis—let us hope she will not call it 'appendicitis'—and then I usher you up. Are you ready?"
Garth Dalmain, as master of ceremonies, had sought Jane Champion on the terrace, and stood before her in the soft light of the hanging Chinese lanterns. The crimson rambler in his button-hole, and his red silk socks, which matched it, lent an artistic touch of colour to the conventional black and white of his evening clothes.
Jane looked up from the comfortable depths of her wicker chair; then smiled at his anxious face.
"I am ready," she said, and rising, walked beside him. "Has it gone well?" she asked. "Is it a good audience?"
"Packed," replied Garth, "and the duchess has enjoyed herself. It has been funnier than usual. But now comes the event of the evening. I say, where is your score?"
"Thanks," said Jane. "I shall play it from memory. It obviates the bother of turning over."