Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-03-03

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Cobb, deep in conversation with her new
friend the Duchess, could not spare glance
to notice her beloved boys agitation. The
others, if they perceived anything aniss,
naturally attributed any slight disorder to
the champagne which the host, according
to his genial custom, had absorbed freely
during the evening. So | alone of all the
company understood why our destination
had been changed from the roof garden of
the Waldorf to this other where the air was
higher and the entertainment so much more
amusing; though certainly, if Victor had
expected qualification either to his feelings
or to his curiosity, one could read in his dis
turbed face that for his own enjoyment he
had gone a bit too far.
| On the stage Fay began her song. Though
as a usual thing | cant understand English
| when it is sung, still her diction was very
clear and sharp, like her voice So the
words came to me distinctly sentimental
words they were, all about someone who had
given someone else little silver ring, and
| then the person had proved false, and the
first one was dying of a broken heart, and so
on. 1t was evident that Victor understood
the words too; for his face changed from
white to red; his very eyes changed color as
| though he were going to cry. Like child
watching show of marionettes, he sat with
his gaze fixed on the singer, and never noticed
even when the waiter put lobster on his
plate and filled up his glass with wine.
On the stage | must own that the young
singer made sufficiently charming figure,
with her blond head shining against the dark
background of palms. Her white dress,
made high in the neck and with no trimming
but pink ribbon sash, gave her a very in
nocent, youthful sort of look, very different
from the day she had come to inspect me at
Bar Harbor. -
Then perceived one rather startling fact,
her large, shining eyes were fixed directly
upon Victor, whose agitation, whether due
to self consciousness or to genuine emotion,
was every moment increasing. And it was
at him, directly to him out of all her languid
or distracted audience, that she sang her
woeful chanson, in a voice that ran with |
tears:
When | al last shall lie all pale amid the roses,
| would that on my whitening finger should be
The little silver ring that once thou gavest me. |
Thus the song came to its mournful end. |
On the last word. as she turned to leave the |
stage, she lifted her hand with sudden
passionate gesture and kissed the ring that
sparkled upon it. The next instant she had
vanished, followed by little faint applause
And heard Victors voice, in quick breath
that was barely audible:
Good Lord! My ring!"
To do him justice, it wasn't any cheap |
little silver ring, but an enormous diamond, |
as large as mine or bigger. | glanced around. |
Not a soul but me had noticed the little in
terludc. With sigh that seemed as though |
it would burst the buttons of his white |
brocade waistcoat, he turned to the lobster |
on his plate. But it was evident that the |
pathetic image conjured up by Fay's last
words still followed him: he ate listlessly and |
had need of frequent recourse to the cham |
payne. How l despised him at that mo-
ment, this man who was to be my husband!
Under the pleasing influence of supper,
the conversation had taken a brisk re- |
action from the depressing neighborhood of |
the stars. At the little table that made the |
center of our group, Aunt Elizabeth was
holding forth in loud voice, just as she al
ways did when we had people from Brent |
pool to dinner at the castle.
"Ermentrudc, my dear, take some of the |
salad. It's not half SO nasty as it looks. But
the lobster though its frcsh,- it seems
quite fresh,-is incorrectly cooked. You
broil a porterhouse, my dear Mrs. Cobb: not
lobster. A lobster should be potted, with
great deal of melted butter, allspice, cloves,
and pepper much pepper. Portia, my love,
you remember the excellent potted lobster
| that we ate at the little inn on the hill near !