as from Schreiermeyer, to say that he had changed his mind,
that she was to make her _debut_ in _Rigoletto_ instead of in _Faust_,
and that a rehearsal of the former opera was called for the next day
but one at eleven o'clock, at which, by kindness of the director of the
Opera, she would be allowed to sing the part of Gilda.

When she read this, her face fell, and she felt a sharp little
disappointment. She had already fancied herself Marguerite, the
fair-haired Gretchen, mass-book in hand and eyes cast down, and then at
the spinning-wheel, and in the church, and in the prison, and it was an
effort of imagination to turn herself into the Italian Duke's Gilda,
murdered to save her lover and dragged away in the sack--probably by
proxy!

The next note was from Logotheti, who begged her to use his motor car
for going in to her rehearsals. The chauffeur would bring it to Mrs.
Rushmore's gate, the day after to-morrow, in plenty of time. The note
was in French and ended with the assurance of 'most respectful homage.'

When she had read it she stared rather vacantly into the corner of her
room for a few seconds, and then tossed the bit of paper into the
basket under her writing-table.

The third letter was from Lushington. She had recognised the small
scholarly handwriting and had purposely laid it aside to read last. It
was rather stiffly worded, and it contained a somewhat unnecessary and
not very contrite apology for having seemed rude that morning in
answering her question so roughly and in hurrying away. He had not much
else to say, except that he was going back at once to his London
lodgings in Bolton Street--a hint that if Margaret wished to write to
him he was to be found there.

She bit her lip and frowned. The note was useless and tactless as well.
If he had wished to please her he might have written a word of
greeting, as if nothing had happened, just to say that he wished he
could have seen her for a few minutes. It would have been so easy to do
that instead of sending a superfluous apology for having been rude on
purpose! She read the note again and grew angry over it. It was so
gratuitous! If he really meant to avoid her always, he need not have
written at all. 'Superfluous' was the word; it was superfluous. She
tore the letter into little bits and threw them into the basket; and
then, by an afterthought, she fished up Logotheti's note, which she had
not torn, and read it again.

At all events, he was a man