“You are not as lazy as I thought you, but twice as deceitful,” she said. Pembroke was amused at the extreme suavity of the two ladies toward each other, knowing that at heart it masked an armed neutrality. Particularly did he notice it after dinner, when they returned to the drawing-room and the piano was opened. Madame Koller was asked to sing, but first begged that Miss Berkeley should play. Olivia, without protesting, went to the piano. Her playing was finished and artistic, and full of the delicate repose of a true musician. When she rose Madame Koller overflowed with compliments. “And now, madam,” said the Colonel, rising and offering his hand with a splendid and graceful flourish, “will you not let us hear that voice that charmed us when you were little Eliza Peyton.” Madame Koller did not like to be called Eliza Peyton--it was too commonplace--Elise Koller was much more striking. And then she was uncertain whether to sing or not. She had tried hard to keep that stage episode secret, and she was afraid if she sang, that something might betray her. She glanced at Ahlberg, as much as to say, “Shall I?” but Ahlberg maintained a sphinx-like gravity. But the temptation was too great. Olivia’s playing was pretty for an amateur--but Madame Koller despised the best amateur performance as only a true professional can. Therefore she rose and went to the piano, and turned over some of the ballads there. She pretended to be looking at them, but she was not. “Louis,” she said to Ahlberg, who was twisting his waxed mustache. He came at once and seated himself at the piano. “What do you think of ‘_Caro nome?_’” she asked. “Very good. You always sung the _Rigoletto_ music well.” Madame Koller was not pleased at this slip--but at all events, nobody but herself understood it in the sense that Ahlberg meant. Ahlberg struck a few chords, and Madame Koller begun from memory the celebrated aria. As she sang, Colonel Berkeley opened his sharp old eyes very wide indeed. This was not the kind of music often heard in drawing-rooms. He glanced at Pembroke, to see if he was astonished. That young gentleman only leaned back in the sofa corner near the fire to better enjoy this delicious singing. Olivia’s face looked puzzled--so did Miles. In singing, Madame Koller was handsomer than ever. She had perfect control over her facial expression, and seemed quite transformed. Once or twice she used a graceful gesture, or made a step forward--it was highly dramatic, but not in the least stagy.