As the days went on which were to bring her engagement at "The Embankment" to an end, Rachel heard a further rumour about herself. Rumours did spring up at "The Embankment" to which she paid very little attention. She had heard the same sort of things said as to other ladies at the theatre, and took them all as a matter of course. Had she been asked, she would have attributed them all to Madame Socani; because Madame Socani was the one person whom, next to Mr. Moss, she hated the most. The rumour in this case simply stated that she had already been married to Mr. Jones, and had separated from her husband. "Why do they care about such a matter as that?" she said to the female from whom she heard the rumour. "It can't matter to me as a singer whether I have five husbands." "But it is so interesting," said the female, "when a lady has a husband and doesn't own him; or when she owns him and hasn't really got him; it adds a piquancy to life, especially to theatrical life, which does want these little assistances." Then one evening Lord Castlewell did call upon her at "The Embankment." Her father was not with her, and she was constrained by the circumstances of the moment to see his lordship alone. "I do feel, you know, Miss O'Mahony," he said, thus coming back for the moment into everyday life, "that I am entitled to take an interest in you." "Your lordship is very kind." "I suppose you never heard of me before?" "Not a word, my lord. I'm an American girl, and I know very little about English lords." "I hope that you may come to know more. My special _metier_ in life brings me among the theatres. I am very fond of music,--and perhaps a little fond of beauty also." "I am glad you have the sense, my lord, to put music the first." "I don't know about that. In regard to you I cannot say which predominates." "You are at liberty at any rate to talk about the one, as you are bidding for it at your own theatre. As to the other, you will excuse me for saying that it is a matter between me and my friends." "Among whom I trust before long I may be allowed to be counted." The little dialogue had been carried on with smiles and good humour, and Rachel now did not choose to interfere with them. After all she was only a public singer, and as such was hardly entitled to the full consideration of a gentlewoman. It was thus that she argued with herself. Nevertheless she had uttered her little reprimand and had intended him to take it as such. "You are coming to us, you know, after the holidays." "And will bring my voice with me, such as it is." "But not your smiles, you mean to say." "They are sure to come with me, for I am always laughing,--unless I am roused to terrible wrath. I am sure that will not be the case at Covent Garden."