She dined with Vizard next day, and retired to the drawing-room. The piano was opened, and she played one or two exquisite things, and afterward tried her voice, but only in scales, and somewhat timidly, for Miss Gale warned her she might lose it or spoil it if she strained the vocal chord while her whole system was weak. Next day Ashmead came with apologies. He had spent a day in the cathedral town on business. He did not tell her how he had spent that day, going about puffing her as the greatest singer of sacred music in the world, and paving the way to her engagement at the next festival. Yet the single-hearted Joseph had really raised that commercial superstructure upon the sentiments she had uttered on his first visit to Vizard Court. Ina now held a private conference with him. “I think,” said she, “I have heard you say you were once an actor.” “I was, madam, and a very good one, too.” _“Cela va sans dire._ I never knew one that was not. At all events, you can disguise yourself.” “Anything, madam, from Grandfather Whitehead to a boy in a pinafore. Famous for my make-ups.” “I wish you to watch a certain house, and not be recognized by a person who knows you.” “Well, madam, nothing is _infra dig,_ if done for you; nothing is distasteful if done for you.” “Thank you, my friend. I have thought it well to put my instructions on paper.” “Ay, that is the best way.” She handed him the instructions. He read them, and his eyes sparkled. “Ah, this is a commission I undertake with pleasure, and I'll execute it with zeal.” He left her, soon after, to carry out these instructions, and that very evening he was in the wardrobe of the little theater, rummaging out a suitable costume, and also in close conference with the wigmaker. Next day Vizard had his mother's sables taken out and aired, and drove Mademoiselle Klosking into Taddington in an open carriage. Fanny told her they were his mother's sables, and none to compare with them in the country. On returning, she tried her voice to the harmonium in her own antechamber, and found it was gaining strength--like herself. Meantime Zoe Vizard met Severne in the garden, and told him she had written to Lord Uxmoor, and he would never visit her again. But she did not make light of the sacrifice this time. She had sacrificed her own self-respect as well as Uxmoor's, and she was sullen and tearful. He had to be very wary and patient, or she would have parted with him too, and fled from both of them to her brother. Uxmoor's wounded pride would have been soothed could he have been present at the first interview of this pair. He would have seen Severne treated with a hauteur and a sort of savageness he himself was safe from, safe in her unshaken esteem. But the world is made for those who can keep their temper, especially the female part of the world.