"Miriam—Miriam Rooth. It would do very well and would give her the benefit of the prepossessing fact that—to the best of my belief at least—she's more than half a Jewess."
"It is as good as Rachel Felix," Sherringham said.
"The name's as good, but not the talent. The girl's splendidly stupid."
"And more than half a Jewess? Don't you believe it!" Sherringham laughed.
"Don't believe she's a Jewess?" Biddy asked, still more interested in Miriam Rooth.
"No, no—that she's stupid, really. If she is she'll be the first."
"Ah you may judge for yourself," Nash rejoined, "if you'll come to-morrow afternoon to Madame Carré, Rue de Constantinople, à l'entresol."
"Madame Carré? Why, I've already a note from her—I found it this morning on my return to Paris—asking me to look in at five o'clock and listen to a jeune Anglaise."
"That's my arrangement—I obtained the favour. The ladies want an opinion, and dear old Carré has consented to see them and to give one. Maud Vavasour will recite, and the venerable artist will pass judgement."