"Why did you never tell me?" asked Mrs. Chester, and left them.
Mrs. Atwood was in the shadow, but Ballinger was standing in the circle of red light thrown by the fire, and that may have been the cause of his crimson face as he bent over the lady's hand.
Lallie, standing back in the room beside the piano, noticed that he gave a very perceptible start at the sound of Mrs. Atwood's voice, and that his flushed face betrayed no pleasure at the meeting, for he shook hands with the lady in somewhat perfunctory fashion and immediately moved back to a chair near Mrs. Chester, who was making tea on the other side of the hearth.
When the lamps were brought in Mrs. Atwood, who wore a most becoming tea-gown, came forth from her corner and went and sat down near Lallie, who shared a deep window-seat with Billy Chester and was squabbling with him for the last toasted scone.
"You are a very wonderful person, Miss Clonmell," she said solemnly.
"I'm glad to hear it," Lallie replied politely. "I've long been of that opinion myself, but hitherto I haven't been able to get people to share it."
"Of course they won't share with you if you're so greedy about keeping things to yourself--what about that last scone?" Billy exclaimed reproachfully.
Mrs. Atwood ignored Billy.
"I suppose you have studied singing seriously?" she continued.
"I'm afraid I'm not very serious about anything. But I love music, if that's what you mean."