“Keep your eye on me,” he said. “I never bind myself down to sing a song twice in the same way—I trust to the inspiration of the moment. My accompanist must be prepared for anything.”
“You must not be too hard on Miss Wadhurst,” said Mrs. Caffyn, smiling.
“Oh, dear, no! you may trust me,” he said heartily. “I know Miss Wadhurst will trust me. By the way, Miss Wadhurst, I think I shall sing ‘The Message’ for the encore. I hope you know the accompaniment.”
“I think I can manage it,” said Priscilla.
“It is so good of you to promise us an encore,” cried Mrs. Caffyn, “and I am sure that Mrs. Bowlby-Sutherst will be delighted.”
“I am always ready to comply with an encore,” said Mr. Kelton, “but I simply decline to respond when people encore my encore. Please bear that in mind, Mrs. Caffyn. I cannot in justice to myself do more than respond to one encore, let that be clearly understood. No matter how enthusiastic your friends may become——”
“I am going home. Are you coming, Priscilla?” cried Rosa Caffyn, breaking in on the cautionary remarks of the tenor with such abruptness as caused him to be startled, and put on his pince-nez for the purpose of giving her a rebuking stare. But she was off before he had fallen into the right pose to obtain the best results, and Priscilla was only a pace behind her.
“Did you ever hear such a bounder?” cried Rosa, before they were quite off the platform. “The idea of taking an encore—a double encore—for granted! Priscilla, I would give my second best hat to be sure that he did not get even the first encore.”
“He knows that an encore is a foregone conclusion: every one encores the tenor,” said Priscilla, smiling queerly. “Still, it wouldn’t surprise me if for once—
“What are you grinning about in that way? Do you mean to get up a claque to shout him down?” said Rosa, fancying that she saw some intelligence behind the smile of the other.