“Dear Miss Cameron, you promised to sing, for me in particular, some evening. May I claim the fulfilment of your promise?”
Euphra had recovered her complexion, and she too seemed to Hugh to be relieved by the departure of Funkelstein.
“Certainly,” she answered, rising at once. “What shall I sing?”
Hugh was all ear now.
“Something sacred, if you please.”
Euphra hesitated, but not long.
“Shall I sing Mozart’s Agnus Dei, then?”
Lady Emily hesitated in her turn.
“I should prefer something else. I don’t approve of singing popish music, however beautiful it may be.”
“Well, what shall it be?”