Matters did not improve, for Richard, after being, to his great disgust, thoroughly beaten, and having his ball driven into all kinds of out-of-the-way places by his adversaries, found on re-entering the drawing-room that he was to play a very secondary part.
Eve recollected that Mr Selwood could sing a little, and he sang in a good manly voice several songs, to which she played the accompaniment.
Then Eve had to sing as well, a couple of pretty ballads, in a sweet unaffected voice, and all this time the whist-table was waiting and Richard pretending to keep up a conversation with the doctor, who enjoyed the music and did not miss his whist.
At length the last ballad was finished, tea over, and Richard had made his plans to exclude Eve from the whist-table, when he gnashed his teeth with fury, for his mother said—
“Eve, my dear, why don’t you ask Mr Selwood to try that duet with you?”
“What, the one Richard was practising, aunt?”
“Yes, my dear, that one.”
“Oh, no,” exclaimed the vicar. “If Mr Glaire sings I will not take his place. Perhaps he will oblige us by taking his part with you.”
“But Dick doesn’t know it, Mr Selwood,” said Eve, laughing merrily, “and he’s sure to break down. He always does in a song. Do try it.”
Dick turned livid with rage, for this was more than he could bear, and, seeing his annoyance, Mr Selwood pleasantly declined, saying—