'Hum!' Schreiermeyer grunted softly, almost musically, in fact.

Perhaps this was a good sign, for little Madame De Rosa beamed.

Margaret looked about for an empty chair, but there never seemed to be

any in a room used by Madame Bonanni. There was one indeed, but

Schreiermeyer had appropriated it, and sat down upon it again with

perfect calm.

'Sit down,' he said, as he did so himself.

'Yes,' answered Margaret sweetly, and remained standing.

Suddenly he seemed to realise that she could not, and that the maids

were not inclined to offer her a seat. His face and figure were

transfigured in an instant, one fat, gloved hand shot out with extended

forefinger in a gesture of command and his pale eyes flashed through

his glasses, and glared furiously at the maids.

'Clear two chairs!' he shouted in a voice of thunder.

Margaret started in surprise and protest.

'But the things are all ready----' objected the cadaverous maid.

'Damn the things!' yelled Schreiermeyer. 'Clear two chairs at once!' He seemed, on the verge of a white apoplexy, though he did not move

from his seat. The cadaverous maid lifted an embroidered bodice from

one of the chairs and laid it in one of the black trunks; she looked

like a female undertaker laying a dead baby in its coffin. The fat maid

showed all her teeth and laughed at Schreiermeyer and cleared the other

chair, and brought up both together for the two ladies.

'Give yourselves the trouble to be seated,' said Schreiermeyer, in a

tone so soft that it would not have disturbed a sleeping child.

As soon as he was obeyed he became quite quiet and unobtrusive again,

the furious glare faded from his eyes, and the white kid hand returned

to rest upon its fellow.

'How good you are!' cried Madame De Rosa gratefully, as she sat down on

the cane chair.

'Hum!' grunted Schreiermeyer, musically, as if he agreed with her.

'Miss Donne has a good soprano,' the teacher ventured to say after a

time.

'Ah?' ejaculated the manager in a tone of very indifferent

interrogation.

There was a little pause.

'Lyric,' observed Madame De Rosa, breaking the silence.

Another pause. Schreiermeyer seemed not to have heard, and neither

moved nor looked at the two.

'Lyric?' he inquired, suddenly, but with extreme softness.

'Lyric,' repeated Madame De Rosa, leaning forward a little, and fanning

herself violently.

Another pause.

'Thank God!' exclaimed Schreiermeyer, without moving, but so very

devoutly that Margaret stared at him in surprise.

Madame De Rosa knew that this also was an excellent sign; she looked at

Margaret and nodded energetically. Whatever Schreiermeyer might mean by

returning devout thanks to his Maker at that moment, the retired singer

was perfectly sure that he knew his business. He was probably in need

of a lyric soprano for the next season, and that might lead to an

immediate engagement for Margaret.




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