She had not heard the short conversation which had introduced this music; and she could not tell but that her husband had been practising these duets—her duets—with some one else. For presently they sang “When the rosy morn appearing,” and “I would that my love could silently,” and others, all of them, in Sheila’s eyes, sacred to the time when she and Lavender used to sit in the little room in Borva. It was no consolation to her that Mrs. Lorraine had but an imperfect acquaintance with them; that oftentimes she stumbled and went back over a bit of the accompaniment; that her voice was far from being striking. Lavender, at all events, seemed to heed none of these things. It was not as a music master that he sang with her. He put as much expression of love into his voice as ever he had done in the old days when he sang with his future bride. And it seemed so cruel that this woman should have taken Sheila’s own duets from her to sing before her with her own husband.
Sheila learnt little more cribbage that evening. Mrs. Kavanagh could not understand how her pupil had become embarrassed, inattentive, and even sad, and asked her if she was tired. Sheila said she was very tired and would go. And when she got her candle, Mrs. Lorraine and Lavender had just discovered another duet, which they felt bound to try together as the last.
This was not the first time she had been more or less vaguely pained by her husband’s attentions to this young American lady; and yet she would not admit to herself that he was any in the wrong. She would entertain no suspicion of him. She would have no jealousy in her heart, for how could jealousy exist with a perfect faith? And so she had repeatedly reasoned herself out of these tentative feelings, and resolved that she would do neither her husband nor Mrs. Lorraine the injustice of being vexed with them. So it was now. What more natural than that Frank should recommend to any one the duets of which he was particularly fond? What more natural than that this young lady should wish to show her appreciation of those songs by singing them? and who was to sing with her but he? Sheila would have no suspicion of either; and so she came down next morning determined to be very friendly with Mrs. Lorraine.
But that forenoon another thing occurred which nearly broke down all her resolves.
“Sheila,” said her husband, “I don’t think I ever asked you whether you rode?”
“I used to ride many times at home,” she said.
“But I suppose you’d rather not ride here,” he said. “Mrs. Lorraine and I propose to go out presently; you’ll be able to amuse yourself somehow till we come back.”
Mrs. Lorraine had indeed gone to put on her habit, and her mother was with her.
“I suppose I may go out,” said Sheila. “It is so very dull indoors, and Mrs. Kavanagh is afraid of the East wind, and she is not going out.”
“Well, there’s no harm about your going out,” answered Lavender, “but I should have thought you’d have liked the comfort of watching the people pass, from the window.”