Cynthia's second song was a greater success even than the first. There could be no doubt that she would attain a great height in her profession if she wished to do so; she had a splendid organ, she had been well taught, and she was remarkably handsome. Her stage-training prevented nervousness; and that she had dramatic talent was evidenced by her singing of the two airs put down for her in the programme. But she took everybody by surprise when she was _encored_. Instead of repeating her last aria, she said a word in the accompanist's ear, and launched at once into the song of Schubert's which she had sung in Hubert's rooms. It was a complete change from the Italian music that constituted the staple of Madame della Scala's concerts; but it revealed new capacities of passion in the singer's voice, and was not unwelcome, even to Madame herself, as showing the girl's talent and versatility. As she passed off the platform, Madame caught the girl in her arms and kissed her enthusiastically. The pupil's success was the teacher's success--and Madame was delighted accordingly. Hubert was leaving the room at the conclusion of the concert, when an attendant accosted him. "Beg pardon, sir! Mr. Lepel, sir?" "Yes; what is it?" "Miss West told me to give you this, sir;" and he put a twisted slip of paper into Hubert's hand. Hubert turned aside and opened the note. He could have smiled at its abruptness--so like what he already knew of Cynthia West. "Why didn't you come round in the interval and let me thank you? If I have been successful, it is all owing to you. Please come to see us this evening if you can; I want very much to consult you. You know my address. Madame won't let me stay now. "C. W." "Impetuous little creature!" Hubert smiled to himself--although Cynthia was not little. He thrust the note into his pocket, and went home to dine and dress. He knew Madame della Scala's ways. This old lady, with whom Cynthia was now staying, loved to hold a little reception on the evening of the day of her yearly concert, and she would be delighted to see Mr. Lepel, although she had not sent him any formal invitation. For Cynthia's sake he made up his mind to go. "For Cynthia's sake." How lightly he said the words! In after-days no words were fraught with deeper and sadder suggestion for him; none bowed him down more heavily with a sense of obligation and shame and passionate remorse than these--"For Cynthia's sake." He went that night to Madame della Scala's house and sat for a full hour, in a little conservatory lighted with Chinese lanterns, alone with Cynthia West. CHAPTER XXIII. "I don't know how it is," grumbled the General, "but Enid looks scarcely any better than she did before this precious engagement of hers. You made me think that she would be perfectly happy if she had her own way; but I must say, Flossy, that I see no improvement."