arity concert,
got up by a Royal Princess in connection with a committee of well-known
women to start a club for soldiers and sailors. Various amateurs and
professionals were asked to take part in it, among them Lady Holme and
Miss Schley. The latter had already accepted the invitation when Lady
Holme received the Royal request, which was made _viva voce_ and was
followed by a statement about the composition of the programme, in which
"that clever Miss Schley" was named.

Lady Holme hesitated. She had not met the American for some time and
did not wish to meet her. Since she had bathed her husband's wound she
knew--she could not have told how--that Miss Schley's power over him had
lessened. She did not know what had happened between them. She did not
know that anything had happened. And, as part of this new effort of
hers, she had had the strength to beat down the vehement, the terrible
curiosity--cold steel and fire combined--that is a part of jealousy.
That curiosity, she told herself, belonged to the siren, not to the
angel. But at this Royal request her temper waked, and with it many
other children of her temperament. It was as if she had driven them into
a dark cave and had rolled a great stone to the cave's mouth. Now the
stone was pushed back, and in the darkness she heard them stirring,
whispering, preparing to come forth.

The Royal lady looked slightly surprised. She coughed and glanced at a
watch she wore at her side.

"I shall be delighted to do anything, ma'am," Lady Holme said quickly.

When she received the programme she found that her two songs came
immediately after "Some Imitations" by Miss Pimpernel Schley.

She stood for a moment with the programme in her hand.

"Some Imitations"; there was a certain crudeness about the statement, a
crudeness and an indefiniteness combined. Who were to be the victims? At
this moment, perhaps, they were being studied. Was she to be pilloried
again as she had been pilloried that night at the British Theatre? The
calm malice of the American was capable of any impudent act. It seemed
to Lady Holme that she had perhaps been very foolish in promising to
appear in the same programme with Miss Schley. Was it by accident that
their names were put together? Lady Holme did not know who had arranged
the order of the performances, but it occurred to her that there was
attraction to the public in the contiguity, and that probably it was a
matter of design. No other two women