"But you do it very well."
"No, you're mistaken there, and beside, I hate teaching school; I simply loathe it! Whereas ... let me tell you a secret. This singing business, this getting up in a drawing-room and opening my mouth and compelling people's attention, even for a moment—seeing people gradually stop talking and thinking about something else and wishing I'd stop, and at last just listening, listening with all their ears and minds to me, plain, stupid, vapid little ME—well, I just love it! It's meat and drink to me. Whenever I receive an invitation to dinner I want to write back, Yes, if you'll let me sing afterward!"
"Really," said James thoughtfully, "that's the way it is with you, is it?"
"I'm afraid so! You won't give me away though, will you, James?"
"Oh, no danger! And I'll promise you another thing—wild horses shan't have a chance when I'm around! Not one chance! Ever!"
He was flattered by her confidence, of course, as well as grateful for her tact. She had not only dragged him out of the water where he was floundering on to the dry land, but had gone so far as to haul him up an agreeable eminence before leaving him.
Conversation shifted again at that point and James turned again to Mrs. Farnsworth. He got on very well with her from his eminence; so well that they remained conversationally united for the rest of dinner. In the course of their talk he thought of another thing that made him even happier; something he had not had a chance to realize before. Madge thought his momentary embarrassment had been due to having broached the doubtful topic of the Carson family. She had no inkling of his feeling for Beatrice; the freedom of her references to Beatrice was proof positive of that. And if she did not suspect, probably no one else did! His secret was as safe as it had ever been.
The full joy of this realization began to spread itself through him about the time when fingerbowls came into use and Aunt Selina was gathering eyes preparatory to starting an exodus. Just as they all rose he chanced to catch Madge's eye and, unable to withhold some expression of his relief, smiled and said softly: "Thank you, Madge!"
"What?" she asked, not understanding.
"Champagne," said James.