It is very hard to give an
opinion, Professor. I must say that your entertainment this
evening was listened to with rapt interest."
The professor turned solemnly towards his daughter.
"You hear that, Beatrice?" he said severely. "You hear what Mr.
Tavernake says? 'With rapt interest!'"
"At the same time," Tavernake went on, "without a doubt Miss
Beatrice's songs were also extremely popular. It is rather a
pity that the management could not give you a little more time."
"Failing that, sir," the professor declared, "my point is, as I
explained before, that Beatrice should give up one of her songs.
What you have said this evening more than ever confirms me in my
view."
Beatrice smiled thankfully at Tavernake.
"Well," she suggested, "at any rate we will leave it for the
present. Sometimes I think, though, father, that you frighten
them with some of your work, and you must remember that they come
to be amused."
"That," the professor admitted, "is the most sensible remark you
have made, Beatrice. There is indeed something terrifying in
some of my manifestations, terrifying even to myself, who
understand so thoroughly my subject. However, as you say, we
will dismiss the matter for the present. The thought of this
supper party is a pleasant one. Do you remember, Mr. Tavernake,
the night when you and I met in the balcony at Imano's?"
"Perfectly well," Tavernake answered.
"Now I shall test your memory," the professor continued, with a
knowing smile.
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