“I believe Vivien never sang so well before; but I am glad that part of the programme is over.”
“Yes,” replied deeper, but more familiar tones; “I was a trifle anxious myself, although I know she never fails in what she undertakes. Vivien is a jewel!”
“You are right, Archie. So is my son; and I am surprised that, at your age, some one has not won you both away from me,” returned the lady, in suppressed, but fond and playful tones.
“You are not anxious to get rid of either of us, I hope, mother?”
“No, indeed; and yet it would be expected in the natural course of events; and with so many fair maidens and gallant young gentlemen playing the agreeable to me, I cannot but feel some curiosity as to who will eventually get my treasures.”
There was no reply to this speech, but Ralph was sure he heard a sigh.
After a few moments he turned and ran his eye with seeming carelessness over the sea of faces behind him, glancing at those two to whose conversation he had just been listening.
It was even as he had surmised when he heard that manly voice.
Archibald Sherbrooke sat directly behind him, and beside him a noble, matronly looking woman whom he closely resembled; but there was an unmistakable look of pain upon the young man’s face, and a wistful, anxious look in his handsome eyes.
“Not married, after all this time, and with that sorrowful face and bitter sigh. I begin to think there may have been a misunderstanding of some kind, instead of a willful wrong,” he said to himself. “He does not look like a man to prove treacherous to a woman,” he added; “there is something noble and prepossessing about him; and yet Star said she denounced him to his face.”