go
with them? They'd have to dine early--he wanted not to miss a moment.

"The theatre--Miss Tressilian?" she stared, interrupted and in suspense
again.

"Would it incommode you very much to dine say at 7.15 and accept a place
in my box? The finger of Providence was in it when I took a box an hour
ago. I particularly like your being free to go--if you are free."

She began almost to rave with pleasure. "Dear Peter, how good you are!
They'll have it at any hour. Florence will be so glad."

"And has Florence seen Miss Rooth?"

"Miss Rooth?" the girl repeated, redder than before. He felt on the spot
that she had heard of the expenditure of his time and attention on that
young lady. It was as if she were conscious of how conscious he would
himself be in speaking of her, and there was a sweetness in her
allowance for him on that score. But Biddy was more confused for him
than he was for himself. He guessed in a moment how much she had thought
over what she had heard; this was indicated by her saying vaguely, "No,
no, I've not seen her." Then she knew she was answering a question he
hadn't asked her, and she went on: "We shall be too delighted. I saw
her--perhaps you remember--in your rooms in Paris. I thought her so
wonderful then! Every one's talking of her here. But we don't go to the
theatre much, you know: we don't have boxes offered us except when _you_
come. Poor Nick's too much taken up in the evening. I've wanted awfully
to see her. They say she's magnificent."

"I don't know," Peter was glad to be able honestly to answer. "I haven't
seen her."

"You haven't seen her?"

"Never, Biddy. I mean on the stage. In private often--yes," he
conscientiously added.

"Oh!" Biddy exclaimed, bending her face on Nick's bust again. She asked
him no question about the new star, and he offered her no further
information. There were things in his mind pulling him different ways,
so that for some minutes silence was the result of the conflict. At last
he said, after an hesitation caused by the possibility that she was
ignorant of the fact he had lately elicited from Julia, though it was
more probable she might have learned it from the same source:

"Am I perhaps indiscreet in alluding to the circumstance that Nick has
been painting Miss Rooth's portrait?"

"You're not indiscreet in alluding to it to me, because I know it."

"Then there's no secret nor mystery about it?"

Biddy just considered. "I don't think mamma knows