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"Wonderfully well, as I said." Charmain spoke almost gravely. Her exultant enthusiasm had died away for the moment. "And, if it is allowed, she would like to go to one. Can she?" Charmian hesitated. But the strong desire for Mrs. Shiffney's verdict overcame a certain suddenly born reluctance of which she was aware, and she said: "I should think so. Why not?
There was a hardness, too, in her whole look and manner. "I think that only makes the hostess's obligation the stronger," said Mrs. Mansfield. "I don't at all like the Margot manner with men." "I'm sorry, Madre; but I had no idea I was imitating Margot Drake." Mrs. Mansfield said no more. Charmian, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes, turned to look once more at Adelaide Shiffney's box.
Shiffney's message. He was evidently reluctant to obey it, but Charmian insisted on his going. "I want to know what Madame Sennier is like. You must ask her if she is happy, find out how happy she is." "Charmian, Mr. Heath isn't a mental detective!" "I speak such atrocious French!" said Heath, looking nervous and miserable.
"And, I don't want to seem conceited, but I see there's something about me that set would probably like. Mrs. Shiffney's showed me that. I have never called upon her. She has sent me several invitations. And to-day she called. She wants me to go with her on The Wanderer for a cruise." "To Wonderland?" Heath shrugged his shoulders. "In the Mediterranean, I believe." "Doesn't that tempt you?"
Although the curtain was now up he noticed that Charmian, with raised opera-glasses, was earnestly looking at Mrs. Shiffney's box. He noticed, too, that her left hand shook slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Her hour of triumph!" Yes, the hour proved to be that. Madame Sennier's energies had not been expended in vain.
"Well, madame, you are a brave woman. That is all I can say!" "Brave! But why?" Mrs. Shiffney's eyes looked full of laughter. "Why, Henriette?" she asked, leaning forward. "Do tell us." "Gillier makes other people like he is," said Madame Sennier. "But what does it matter? Each one for himself! Don't you say that in England?" She had turned to Max Elliot.
"Did Madre know about to-night?" "No." "Why didn't you tell her? Why not have asked her to come? We belong to her and she to us. It would have been natural." "I love Madre. But I didn't want even her to-night." Claude realized that he was assisting at a prelude. But he only said: "I suppose she is going to Mrs. Shiffney's to-night?" "Yes."
Shiffney's large mouth suddenly looked a little hard, though her general expression hardly altered. "Oh! Whereabouts are they?" "Up at Mustapha, not far from Mrs. Graham." "They say he's trying to write an opera. Poor fellow! The very last thing he could do, I should think. But she pushes him on.
At this point one of the musicians, a fair man with pale eyes who played the tarah, interposed a remark which was uttered with great seriousness. "Can they go to London on camels, he wishes to know," observed Amor gently. Said Hitani waited for Mrs. Shiffney's answer with a slightly judicial air, moving his head as if in approval of the tarah-player's forethought. "I'm afraid they can't."
"What's this?" he said to Charmian, who was sitting opposite to him. "Romeike and Curtice! Why should they send me anything?" He picked up one of the cuttings. "It's from a paper called My Lady." "What is it about?" "It seems to be an account of Mrs. Shiffney's party, with something marked in blue pencil, 'Mrs.
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