“Do you?”
“I do. And then you follow after.”
“Well?”
“Say, would you mind changing it? It don’t do to have two recitations one after the other. There ought to be something different in between.”
Lady Holme looked at her quite eagerly, almost with gratitude.
“I’ll sing next,” she said quickly.
“Much obliged to you, I’m sure. You’re perfectly sweet.”
Lady Holme saw again a faint look of surprise on the American’s white face, succeeded instantly by an expression of satisfaction. She realised that Miss Schley had some hidden disagreeable reason for her request. She even guessed what it was. But she only felt glad that, whatever happened, no one could accuse her of trying to efface any effect made by Miss Schley upon the audience. As she sang before the “imitations,” if any effect were to be effaced it must be her own. The voice of the French actor ceased, almost drowned in a ripple of laughter, a burst of quite warm applause. He reappeared looking calm and magisterial. The applause continued, and he had to go back and bow his thanks. The tenor, who had not been recalled, looked cross and made a movement of his double chin that suggested bridling.
“Now, Miss Schley!” said the pianist. “You come now!”
“Lady Holme has very kindly consented to go first,” she replied.