He said: “Is it really true that your visit to Mrs. Staveley is coming to an end?”
I answered: “It comes to an end the day after to-morrow.”
“Are you sorry to be leaving your friends in London?”
What I might have said if he had made that inquiry a day earlier, when I was the most miserable creature living, I would rather not try to guess. Being quite happy as things were, I could honestly tell him I was sorry.
“You can’t possibly be as sorry as I am, Eunice. May I call you by your pretty name?”
“Yes, if you please.”
“Eunice!”
“Yes.”
“You will leave a blank in my life when you go away—”
There another chorus stopped him, just as I was eager for more. It was such a delightfully new sensation to hear a young gentleman telling me that I had left a blank in his life. The next change in the Oratorio brought up a young lady, singing alone. Some people behind us grumbled at the smallness of her voice. We thought her voice perfect. It seemed to lend itself so nicely to our whispers.