"I fancy so," answered Tom, indifferently, as if it were nothing to him to do whatever he chose to attempt. And in fact he could imitate almost anything--and well, too--the easier that he had nothing of his own pressing for utterance; for he had yet made no response to the first demand made on every man, the only demand for originality made on any man--that he should order his own way aright. "How clever you must be!" drawled Hesper; and, notwithstanding the tone, the words were pleasant in the ears of goose Tom. He rose, opened the piano, and, with not a little cheap facility, began to accompany a sweet tenor voice in the song he had just read. The door opened, and Mr. Redmain came in. He gave a glance at Tom as he sang, and went up to his wife where she still sat, with her face to the fire, and her back to the piano. "New singing-master, eh?" he said. "No," answered his wife. "Who the deuce is he?" "I forget his name," replied Hesper, in the tone of one bored by question. "He used to come to Durnmelling." "That is no reason why he should not have a name to him." Hesper did not reply. Tom went on playing. The moment he struck the last chord, she called to him in a clear, soft, cold voice: "Will you tell Mr. Redmain your name? I happen to have forgotten it." Tom picked up his hat, rose, came forward, and, mentioning his name, held out his hand. "I don't know you," said Mr. Redmain, touching his palm with two fingers that felt like small fishes. "It is of no consequence," said his wife; "Mr. Aylmer is an old acquaintance of our family." "Only you don't quite remember his name!" "It is not my _friends'_ names only I have an unhappy trick of forgetting. I often forget yours, Mr. Redmain!" "My _good_ name, you must mean." "I never heard that." Neither had raised the voice, or spoken with the least apparent anger. Mr. Redmain gave a grin instead of a retort. He appreciated her sharpness too much to get one ready in time. Turning away, he left the room with a quiet, steady step, taking his grin with him: it had drawn the clear, scanty skin yet tighter on his face, and remained fixed; so that he vanished with something of the look of a hairless tiger. The moment he disappeared, Tom's gaze, which had been fascinated, sought Hesper. Her lips were shaping the word _brute!_--Tom heard it with his eyes; her eyes were flashing, and her face was flushed. But the same instant, in a voice perfectly calm-- "Is there anything else you would like to sing, Mr. Helmer?" she said. "Or--" Here she ceased, with the slightest possible choking--it was only of anger--in the throat.