hideous false note, and end her career then and there. Her
heart beat fast at the thought, even now, and she pressed her teacher's
guiding hand nervously; and yet, as the music reached her ears, she
longed to be standing in Madame Bonanni's place with only a latticed
balcony door between her and the great public. She was not thinking of
Lushington now, though she had thought all day of his face when she had
met him for one moment under the trees, yesterday morning, and had felt
that something was gone from her life which she was to miss for a long
time. That was all forgotten in what she felt at the present moment, in
the wild quivering longing to be in front, the centre of the great
illusion, singing as she knew that she could sing, as she had never
sung before.

Madame De Rosa led her quickly down a dark corridor and a moment later
she found herself in a dazzling blaze of light, in the prima donna's
dressing-room.

The ceiling was low, the walls were white, and innumerable electric
lamps, with no shades, filled the place with a blinding glare. It all
looked bare and uncomfortable, and very untidy. There was a
toilet-table, covered with little pots of grease and paint, and
well-worn pads and hare's-feet, and vast stores of hairpins, besides a
quantity of rings and jewels of great value, all lying together in
bowls in the midst of the confusion. A tall mirror stood on one side,
with wing mirrors on hinges, and bunches of lamps that could be moved
about. On one of the walls half-a-dozen theatrical gowns and cloaks
hung limply from pegs. Two large trunks were open and empty not far
from the door. The air was hot and hard to breathe, and smelt of many
things.

There were three people in the room when the two visitors entered;
there was a very tall maid with an appallingly cadaverous face and
shiny black hair, and there was a short fat maid who grinned and showed
good teeth at Madame De Rosa. Both wore black and had white aprons, and
both were perspiring profusely. The third person was an elderly man in
evening dress, who rose and shook hands with the retired singer, and
bowed to Margaret. He seemed to be a very quiet, unobtrusive man, who
was nevertheless perfectly at his ease, and he somehow conveyed the
impression that he must be always dressed for the evening, in a
perfectly new coat, a brand-new shirt, a white waistcoat never worn
before, and a made tie. Perhaps it was the made tie that introduced a
certain disqui