Little Billee stayed with his mother and sister in Devonshire till Christmas, Taffy staying at the village inn.
It was Taffy who told Mrs. Bagot about la Svengali's all but certain identity with Trilby, after Little Billee had gone to bed, tired and worn out, the night of their arrival.
"Good heavens!" said poor Mrs. Bagot. "Why, that's the new singing woman who's coming over here! There's an article about her in to-day's Times. It says she's a wonder, and that there's no one like her! Surely that can't be the Miss O'Ferrall I saw in Paris!"
"It seems impossible—but I'm almost certain it is—and Willy has no doubts in the matter. On the other hand, McAlister declares it isn't."
"Oh, what trouble! So that's why poor Willy looks so ill and miserable! It's all come back again. Could she sing at all then, when you knew her in Paris?"
"Not a note—her attempts at singing were quite grotesque."
"Is she still very beautiful?"
"Oh yes; there's no doubt about that; more than ever!"
"And her singing—is that so very wonderful? I remember that she had a beautiful voice in speaking."
"Wonderful? Ah, yes; I never heard or dreamed the like of it. Grisi, Alboni, Patti—not one of them to be mentioned in the same breath!"