He had no notion that the administration of the valuable “lesson” was due solely to the cleverness of Miss Wadhurst, who had seen great possibilities in that picturesque “symphony” in the accompaniment. It was very daring of her to run the chance of such applause greeting the finish of each stanza as should enable her to raise the key in which the song was set, without being detected. She knew that Mr. Kelton would be too greatly absorbed in himself to notice the modulation until it should be too late; but she was not so sure of some other people on the platform. It seemed, however, that no one had detected her manouvre except Mr. Tutt. She caught his eye when she was in the act of rising from the piano, and she perceived that he knew all. That was why she tried to avoid him when she was leaving the platform, letting her steps drag behind the choir. She failed in her object this time, for he waited for her. “I was lost in admiration,” he murmured. “It never occurred to me. Anyhow, I never should have had the courage to try it on. You must have worked pretty hard at the thing last night. You have been well grounded. I couldn’t have worked out the double transposition in the time. And then you had to trust to your memory.” “I meant to teach him a lesson,” murmured Priscilla. “And you have done it! My word, you have done it. He caught the last train to Sherningham, starting just as he was. His suit case is to be sent after him. I could hear him shaking off the dust of Framsby from his feet. He did it very soundly in the vestibule--a regular cloud of it. A lesson! My word! a lesson!” CHAPTER III Of course Priscilla confessed to her friend Rosa by what means she had encompassed the downfall of Mr. Kelton. Rosa was not much of a musician, and it seemed to her quite wonderful that any one could perform such a feat as the transposition of a song within the space of twenty-four hours, and then not shrink from playing the modulated version from memory. “It had to be done,” said Priscilla firmly. “How could I stand by and hear that conceited man--but there was a clever man--a Frenchman of course--who said ‘a tenor is not a man but a disease.’ I wonder why it is that so many girls simply worship a tenor. Dr. Needham says it dates back to primeval man and primeval woman, All singing, he says, is simply primeval man calling to primeval woman to come out for a walk in the moonlight. And that’s why the most favourite songs nowadays are love-songs--tenor love-songs--languishing things--I hate them!” “It served that horrid man right,” said Rosa. She did not show herself to be greatly interested in the theories of Dr. Needham; but she was intensely interested in the humiliation of a man who was horrid. “I should like to be able to do just what you did. Men want to be taken down dreadfully; but if a girl ever rises to do it she is looked on as horrid herself.”