Roger walked up to Ada, and asked her gravely and quietly if she had to sing again.
‘No, Roger,’ said she, in a subdued voice.
‘Then I think you had better let me take you home,’ he said gently, and offered her his arm. Ada took it instantly.
‘Oh, nonsense!’ began Otho. ‘We can’t do with that. She——’
‘Be good enough to stand out of the way,’ said Roger, fixing his eyes upon him with a steady look that boded anything but peace between them in the future. ‘I will take Miss Dixon home now. There has been foolery enough to-night. I will settle with you to-morrow.’
This promise was given heartily enough, if in a low voice. Otho, with a sneering laugh, let him pass, and then turned to Magdalen.
‘I suppose you are not too overcome to go into the other room,’ he said. ‘Shall I take you there?’
‘I shall go when I am ready,’ replied Magdalen, coldly. ‘You are at liberty to go as soon as ever you please.’
‘Not I!’ said he, throwing himself into a chair near to her. ‘I’ve worked hard enough to get your society. I’m not going to quit it the instant I have secured it.’
Here the choir were again summoned to the front, and they were left alone. Otho had spoken of having worked hard to obtain Magdalen’s company, but he sat in silence till towards the end of the chorus, when, as it was the last thing in the first part of the concert, Magdalen rose, and began to gather up her shawl.