"Ah, no—not now. She sometimes sleeps here in the morning; but she is with her mother in the other room now."
Madeleine disappeared, and Mrs. Tate's eyes roved around the room. She recognized it at once as the typical English lodging-house drawing-room; she had seen many rooms just like it before, when she had called on American friends living for a time in London. It was large and oblong, facing the tall houses on the opposite side of the street that cut off much of the light; the wall paper was ugly and sombre, and the carpet, with its large flowery pattern, together with the lounge and chairs, completed an effect of utter dreariness.
Mrs. Tate wondered how people could live in such places; she should simply go mad if she had to stay in a room like this. Then she wondered why Madame Le Baron hadn't brightened up the apartment a bit; the photographs on the mantel, in front of the large French mirror, together with the cradle in the corner, were the only signs it gave of being really inhabited. How vulgar those prints on the wall were! They and the mirror were the only French touches visible, and they contrasted oddly with their surroundings. While Mrs. Tate was comfortably meditating on the vast superiority of England to France, the door leading to the next room opened and Blanche entered the room. She looked so domestic in her simple dress of blue serge that for an instant her caller did not recognize her.
She held out her hand timidly. "Father Dumény has spoken to me about you," she said.
"Father Dumény must think I am an extremely rude person. I meant to come weeks ago," Mrs. Tate replied, clasping the hand and looking down steadily into the pale face. "But I've been busy—so busy, I've had hardly a minute to myself. However, I did go to see you perform."
"Ah, at the Hippodrome?"
"Yes, the very first night. Mr. Tate and I went together. We were both—er—wonderfully impressed. I don't think I ever saw anything more wonderful in my life than that plunge of yours."
Mrs. Tate adjusted herself in the chair near the window, and Blanche took the opposite seat. "I'm glad you liked it," she said with a sigh.
"Liked it. I can't really say I did like it. I must confess it rather horrified me."
"It does some people. My mother never likes to see me do it—though I've done it for a great many years now."