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They consulted together, amicably arranging the menu. The dinner was brought quickly, and they sat down, one on each side of a round table decorated with lilies of the valley. "I'm playing traitress to-night," Mrs. Shiffney said in her deep voice. "I was to have been at a dinner arranged for the Senniers by Mrs. Algernon Batsford." "I am so ashamed." "Or are you a little bit flattered?"
And Susan Fleet was going at once to Djenan-el-Maqui. "Tell Charmian Heath I'll look in this afternoon with Max, Susan, about tea-time. Don't say anything about the Senniers. They won't come, I'm sure. He says he's going straight to bed directly he reaches the hotel. Charmian would be disappointed. I'll explain to her." These were Mrs.
But she had said nothing about the Senniers, for the simple reason that Adelaide had told her nothing about them until they stepped into the wagon-lit in Paris. Then she had remarked carelessly: "Oh, yes, I believe they're crossing with us! Why not?" As soon as the yacht was moored the whole party prepared to leave her. Rooms had been engaged in advance at the Hôtel St. George.
"She telegraphed this morning that she had to go over unexpectedly to Paris. Something to do with the Senniers probably. You know how devoted she is to him. And now he is the rage in America, Charmian says. Every day I expect to hear that Mrs. Shiffney had sailed for New York." He laughed, but not quite naturally. "What a change in his life that evening at Covent Garden made!" he added.
"This is a red-letter night in my life," he had said. "I have felt a strong and genuine emotion. There's a future for music, after all, and a big one. If only there were one or two more Jacques Senniers!" Even then Charmian had not looked again at Heath. She had answered lightly. "Perhaps there are. Who knows? Even Monsieur Sennier was practically unknown four hours ago."
Shiffney wanted to hold hands with the composer himself. She had "no use" at the moment for anyone else, and had already arranged to take the Senniers on a yachting cruise after the London season, beginning with Cowes. The "feelers" which Charmian put out found the atmosphere rather chilly.
I'm delighted!" Charmian moved. She was secretly furious with herself. Max Elliot took her hand, and Mrs. Shiffney carelessly introduced the Senniers. "What a dear little retreat you've found here, and how deliciously you've arranged everything," she said. "You've made a perfect nest for your genius. We are all longing to see him." They were sitting now.
"Did you want Mrs. Shiffney to come so particularly?" Claude asked, not without surprise. "Yes, I did. Not for myself, of course. I don't pretend to be fond of her, though I don't dislike her! But she ought to have come after accepting. People thought she was coming to-night. I wonder why she rushed off to Paris like that?" "I should think it was probably something to do with the Senniers.
I never take sides in questions of art, and though of course I'm a friend of the Senniers, I'm really praying for you to have a triumph. Surely the sky has room for two stars. What nonsense all this Press got-up rivalry is. Don't believe a word you see in the papers about Henriette and your libretto. She knows nothing whatever about it, of course. Such rubbish!
Shiffney and Madame Sennier, leaning down and up, exchanged sibilant and almost simultaneous hushes. Max Elliot heard them quite distinctly. They were the only part of the conversation which reached him. He was an old friend of Adelaide, and was devoted to the Senniers and to their cause. But he did not quite like this expedition.
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