Later on in the evening, Forster, with his sister and his son, occupied a box in the Parthenon. They arrived late, and when they entered ‘Imogen’ was in the middle of her first parting with ‘Posthumus,’ but as she left the stage she glanced up and met Forster’s eyes. Margaret Forster saw that look, and in a moment her suspicions were awakened. For the rest of the evening she was busily engaged, not following the play, but jealously watching her brother. As she did so, her face hardened and her eyes grew cold as steel; for she had discovered his secret.
The play ended, the curtain descended, and in answer to the enthusiastic applause of the audience Imogen came before the curtain. Then Margaret Forster saw the actress glance up again with a smile of recognition.
They drove home and supped together in the great dining-room. Forster was generally a water-drinker, but on this occasion he ordered champagne, and pressed his sister to partake of it with him. The wise virgin, who saw that something was coming, was not to be persuaded.
Presently Forster dismissed the footman in waiting; then, looking to Margaret with a bright but somewhat nervous smile he asked—
‘Well, how did you like her?’
‘Miss Vere? I think she is rather pretty and acts intelligently.’
‘Intelligently! She is a genius. Do take some champagne.’
Margaret shook her head. She saw that her brother was excited, and determined to keep cool. To try him, she changed the subject.
‘How pretty the Princess looked. I suppose the greyheaded gentleman with her was her father, the King of Denmark?’
‘Yes—but Miss Vere! How beautifully she spoke those lines at the mouth of the cave!’