Part 32 (2/2)

”Her hour of triumph!” Yes, the hour proved to be that. Madame Sennier's energies had not been expended in vain. From the first bars of music, from the first actions upon the stage, the audience was captured by the new work. There was no hesitating. There were no dangerous moments. The evening was like a crescendo, admirably devised and carried out. And through it all Charmian watched the ugly white face of the red-haired woman opposite to her, lived imaginatively in that woman's heart and brain, admired her, almost hated her, longed to be what she was.

Between the acts she saw men pouring into Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney's box. And every one was presented to the ugly woman, whose vivacity and animation were evidently intense, who seemed to demand homage as a matter of course.

Several foreigners kissed her hand. Max Elliot's whole att.i.tude, as he bent over her, showed adoration and enthusiasm. Even Paul Lane was smiling, as he drew her attention to a glove split by his energy in applause.

Heath had spoken of Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney'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.

”I suppose you can say, '_Chere Madame, j'espere que vous etes bien contente ce soir_?'”

When Heath had left the box Mrs. Mansfield said gravely to her daughter:

”Charmian!”

”Yes, Madretta.”

”I don't think you are behaving very kindly this evening. You scarcely seem to remember that Mr. Heath is our guest.”

”Against his will,” she said, in a voice that was almost hard. 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 s.h.i.+ning eyes, turned to look once more at Adelaide s.h.i.+ffney's box.

In about three minutes she saw Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney glance behind her. Max Elliot, who was still with her, got up and opened the door, and Heath stood in the background. Charmian frowned and pressed her little teeth on her lower lip. Her body felt stiff with attention, with scrutiny. She saw Heath come forward, Max Elliot holding him by the arm, and talking eagerly and smiling. Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney smiled, too, laughed, gave him her powerful hand. Now he was being introduced to Madame Sennier, who surely appraised him with one swift, almost cruelly intelligent glance.

His French! His French! Charmian trembled for it, for him because of it.

If Mrs. Mansfield could have known how solicitous, how tender, how motherly, the girl felt at that moment under her mask of s.h.i.+ning, radiant hardness! But Mrs. Mansfield was glancing about the house with grave and even troubled eyes.

Heath was talking to Madame Sennier. He was even sitting down beside her. She spoke, evidently with volubility, making rapid gestures with her hands. Then she paused. She was listening attentively to Heath. Mrs.

s.h.i.+ffney and Elliot listened, too, as if absorbed. Heath's French must really be excellent. Why had he--? If only she could hear what he was saying! She tingled with curiosity. How he held them, those three people! From here he looked distinguished, interesting. He stood out even in this crowd as an interesting man. Madame Sennier made an upward movement of her head, full of will. She put out her hand, and laid it on Heath's arm. Now they all seemed to be talking together. Madame Sennier looked radiant, triumphant, even autocratic. She pointed toward the stage emphatically, made elaborate descriptive movements with her hands.

A bell sounded somewhere. Heath got up. In a moment he and Max Elliot had left the box together. The two women were alone. They leaned toward each other apparently in earnest conversation.

”I know they are talking about him! I know they are!”

Charmian actually formed the words with her lips. The curtain rose as Heath quietly entered the box. Charmian did not turn to him or look at him then. Only when the act was over did she move and say:

”Well, Mr. Heath, your French evidently comes at call.”

”What--oh, we were talking in Englis.h.!.+”

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