A sigh of keen enjoyment broke from the listening crowd, and, after a moment’s silence, the hall reverberated with applause. There was not another number on the programme which elicited such enthusiasm as this. For once society was taken out of itself, for once it forgot its usual placid indifference, and forebore to grudge the singer her success. Again and again she reappeared to bow her acknowledgments, and still the audience clamoured and thumped for an encore. “You must sing something else,” Haviland said excitedly. “Quick! what shall it be?” “Sing ‘Allerseelen,’” suggested Herbert Karne. “No; give ’em something popular. They are just in the mood for it,” put in Lambert with authority. “Sing ‘Killarney’--that’s sure to take.” He hastily found the music; then, turning round to the young singer, gave an exclamation of dismay. “The heat and the excitement have been too much for her,” said Haviland, regretfully. Celia had fainted. CHAPTER II A NEW PROJECT DISCUSSED Celia’s _début_ was followed by engagements to sing at several concerts, and numerous invitations to great ladies’ receptions. She was a decided success, and became the fashion, at least, for that season. It was not her voice alone--for many a singer has possessed one equally as good as hers and yet has languished in obscurity; but her attractive personality and her fortune combined, gained for her the good will of society, and she was made much of in consequence. Under the chaperonage of Lady Marjorie Stonor, herself the leader of a certain “set,” she underwent the routine of fashionable life; and attended functions to which, without Lady Marjorie’s influence, it would have been impossible, at the outset, to gain the _entrée_. Luncheon and dinner-parties, receptions and balls, followed each other in rapid succession, until Celia’s dreams at night began to consist of a blurred panorama of red carpet and striped awnings, flower-decked halls and plant-lined stairs, crowded rooms and lamp-lit conservatories. She seemed to live in one constant whirl of excitement, and her pretty head was almost in danger of being turned by the attention and adulation she received. Herbert Karne had intended to stay in town for the season, but he very soon wearied of hotel life, and fashionable London possessed no attractions for him. He remained just long enough to be present at Celia’s _début_, to escort her to an artists’ _soirée_, and to see his picture on view at the Academy. Then, considering that he had done his duty, he returned to his quiet home at Durlston, leaving his half-sister at Lady Majorie’s house in Great Cumberland Place, until the end of July.