“No; a Miss Macleod, who said that a much better position was in the market in a church where Miss Tucker had influential friends. She was sure that if Miss Tucker returned immediately to sing for the committee she could secure a thousand-dollar salary. We could do nothing but advise her to make the effort, you see.”
“Did she seem determined to go?”
“No; she appeared a little undecided and timid. However, she said frankly that, though she had earned enough in England to pay her steamer passage to America, and a month’s expenses afterward, she could not be certain of continuing to do so much through a London winter. ‘If I only had a little more time to think it out,’ she kept saying, ‘but I haven’t, so I must go!’”
“Where is she now?”
“At her lodgings. The bishop is detained in Bath and I am dining with friends in his stead. I thought you might go and take her to dinner at the Swan, so that she shouldn’t be alone, and then bring her to the palace afterward—if—if all is well.”
“If I have any luck two churches will be lamenting her loss to-morrow morning,” said Fergus gloomily; “but she wouldn’t have consented to go if she cared anything about me!”
“Nonsense, my dear boy! You were away. No self-respecting girl would wire you to come back. She was helpless even if she did care. Here we are! Shall I send a hansom back in half an hour?”
“Twenty-five minutes will do it,” Appleton answered briskly. “You are an angel, dear lady!”
“Keep your blarney! I hope you’ll need it all for somebody else to-night! Good fortune, dear boy!”
VIII