But Mr. Moss was somewhat different from the theatrical world in general. He kept himself to himself, and kept his opinion very much in the dark. Madame Socani spoke to him often about Rachel, and expressed her loud opinion that Lord Castlewell had never been in earnest. And she was of opinion that Rachel's voice had never had any staying property. Madame Socani had once belittled Rachel's voice, and now her triumph was very great. In answer to all this Mr. Moss almost said nothing. Once he did turn round and curse the woman violently, but that was all. Then, when the news had, he thought, been made certain, either in one direction or the other, he came and called on the young lady. "Well, Mr. Moss," said the young lady, with a smile that was intended to be most contemptible and gracious. "I have been so extremely sorry to hear of your illness, my dear young lady." Her grandeur departed from her all at once. To be called this man's "dear young lady" was insufferable. And grandeur did not come easily to her, though wit and sarcasm did. "Your dear young lady, as you please to call her, has had a bad time of it." "In memory of the old days I called you so, Miss O'Mahony. You and I used to be thrown much together." "You and I will never be thrown together again, as my singing is all over." "It may be so and it may not." "It is over, at any rate as far as the London theatres go,--as far as you and I go. "I hope not." "I tell you it is. I am going back to New York at once, and do not think I shall sing another note as long as I live. I'm going to learn to cook dishes for papa, and we mean to settle down together." "I hope not," he repeated. "Very well; but at any rate I must say good-bye to you. I am very weak, and cannot do much in the talking line." Then she got up and stood before him, as though determined to wish him good-bye. She was in truth weak, but she was minded to stand there till he should have gone. "My dear Miss O'Mahony, if you would sit down for a moment, I have a proposition to make to you. I think that it is one to which you may be induced to listen." Then she did sit down, knowing that she would want the strength which rest would give her. The conversation with Mr. Moss might probably be prolonged. He also sat down at a little distance, and held his shining new hat dangling between his knees. It was part of her quarrel with him that he had always on a new hat. "Your marriage with Lord Castlewell, I believe, is off." "Just so." "And also your marriage with Mr. Jones?" "No doubt. All my marriages are off. I don't mean to be married at all. I tell you I'm going home to keep house for my father." "Keep house for me," said Mr. Moss. "I would rather keep house for the devil," said Rachel, rising from her chair in wrath.