“Oh, did she, mumsie? How sorry I am! Perhaps that is what makes her look so sad at times.” For Marielle had noticed the wistful look that had crept over Mrs. Duncan’s face when regarding herself.
“It may be that she envies me my daughter,” rejoined Mrs. Heritage proudly. “Yet I do not think she is sad, for she told me that this Eastertide had been the happiest she had ever known.”
“I wonder why?” speculated Marielle.
“Perhaps we may learn the reason some day, darling. But here comes Ann with the lamp, and you must leave me in peace as I have several letters to write before post time.”
“And I must try over that new work for the Chester concert,” replied Marielle, and very shortly both the ladies were absorbed in their respective occupations.
Three months had come and gone, and the acquaintance begun between the Duncans and Heritages had rapidly ripened into a warm friendship. Scarcely a week now passed without, at any rate, the ladies of the two families meeting at one house or the other, and Mrs. Duncan had begun to feel that she should sorely miss either Mrs. Heritage or Marielle should anything occur to cause their removal from Manningham. True, the remark was frequently made to Marielle, “Oh, you ought to be in London!” But the girl so far had only smiled and answered very justly:
“Why should I go to London when I can find plenty to do here. There I should be only one among hundreds, while here I already have a position and name in the musical world.”
The force of her argument was undeniable, and the Heritages remained in Manningham.
One hot afternoon in July a telegram came to No. 27, York Road, from a pupil, to ask Marielle if she could give a lesson at Forman’s at five o’clock.