"Had you been," answered Vavasor with concealed caution, "I should have learned the fact from your brother."
"Have you learned from him that I could sing at all?"
"To confess the strange truth, he never told me you were musical."
"Very well?"
"I beg your pardon."
"I mean, how then do you know I am not a professional singer?"
"All London would have known it."
This second reply, better conceived, soothed Hester's vanity—of which she had more than was good for her, seeing the least speck of it in the noblest is a fly in the cream.
"What would you say," she rejoined, "if Corney were to tell to you that the reason of his silence was that, while I was in training, we judged it more prudent, with possible failure ahead, to be silent?"
"I should say you cherished a grand ambition, and one in which you could not fail of success," replied Vavasor, who began to think she was leading him gently to the truth.