"
"Perhaps you will kindly put your question in plain words,"
Tavernake said.
"Why, that's easy," Mr. Pritchard declared. "Is Miss Tavernake
really her name, or an assumed one? I expect it's the same over
here as in my country--a singer very often sings under another
name than her own, you know," he added, noting Tavernake's
gathering frown.
"The young lady in question is my sister, and I do not care to
discuss her with strangers," Tavernake announced.
Mr. Pritchard nodded pleasantly.
"Why, of course, that ends the matter," he remarked. "Sorry to
have troubled you, anyway."
He strolled off back to his seat and Tavernake returned
thoughtfully to the dressing-room. He found Beatrice alone and
waiting for him.
"You've got rid of that fellow, then?" he inquired.
Beatrice assented.
"Yes; he didn't stay very long," she replied.
"Who was he?" Tavernake asked, curiously.
"From a musical comedy point of view," she said, "he was the most
important person in London. He is the emperor of stage-land. He
can make the fortune of any girl in London who is reasonably
good-looking and who can sing and dance ever so little."
"What did he want with you?" Tavernake demanded, suspiciously.
"He asked me whether I would like to go upon the stage. What do
you think about it, Leonard?"
Tavernake, for some reason or other, was displeased.
"Would you earn much more money than by singing at these
dinners?" he asked.
"Very, very much more," she assured him.
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