"That is a song according to my notion," said Lola. "No mésalliance of sentiment and melody there, such as you often see. The words and the music made a love-match—they were born for each other. Who wrote it, Elise?"
"I forget—if I ever knew," said Elise.
"Woman, of course," Lola continued; and Rutledge interpolated "Why?"
"Because a woman always mixes her religion with her love—if she has any religion. A man may have one or the other, or both, but he never confuses them."
"Pardon me for taking issue with you, Mrs. Hazard; but with many a man his love for a woman is his only religion."
"Which means, Mr. Rutledge, that he has love—not religion."
As Rutledge turned to Mrs. Hazard Elise had the first opportunity to look at him unobserved. She saw that his face had less colour than usual, that his manner seemed to lack its accustomed spontaneity, that there was a tired look about his eyes—which provoked in her heart a fleeting maternal impulse to lay her hand upon them. She watched him furtively and became convinced that he was in some measure distressed. At first it rather amused her and flattered her vanity to think that he was approaching her with a becoming self-distrust. As she studied him longer, however, she began to doubt the reason for his constraint.
Lola Hazard turned from her discussion with Rutledge to give Elise another song, and the young woman at the piano sang three or four while Rutledge listened in appreciative silence. Before the last was finished Mrs. Hazard was gone to receive other guests.
"Now will you not sing one of your own choosing?" asked Rutledge.
"I have no choice;" said Elise, "but this occurs to me." She sang him Tosti's Good-bye.