Her eyes opened and she gazed sleepily into the twilight of mauve curtains, and dreaded her maid’s knock.  “It must be nearly eight,” she thought, and she strove to pick up the thread of her lost thoughts.  But a sharp rap at her door awakened her, and a tall, spare figure crossed the room.  As the maid was about to draw the curtains, Evelyn cried to her—­

“Oh, wait a moment, Herat....  I’m so tired.  I didn’t get to bed till two o’clock.”

“Mademoiselle forgets that she told me to awaken her very early.  Mademoiselle said she wanted to go for a long drive to the other end of London before she went to rehearsal.”

Merat’s logic seemed a little severe for eight o’clock in the morning, and Evelyn believed that her conception of Isolde had suffered from the interruption.

“Then I am not to draw the curtains?  Mademoiselle will sleep a little longer.  I will return when it is time for mademoiselle to go to rehearsal.”

“Did you say it was half-past eight, Merat?”

“Yes, mademoiselle.  The coachman is not quite sure of the way, and will have to ask it.  This will delay him.”

“Oh, yes, I know....  But I must sleep a little longer.”

“Then mademoiselle will not get up.  I will take mademoiselle’s chocolate away.”

“No, I’ll have my chocolate,” Evelyn said, rousing herself.  “Merat, you are very insistent.”

“What is one to do?  Mademoiselle specially ordered me to wake her....  Mademoiselle said that—­”

“I know what I said.  I’ll see how I feel when I have had my chocolate.  The coachman had better get a map and look out the way upon it.”

She lay back on the pillow and regretted she had come to England.  There was no reason why she should not have thrown over this engagement.  It wouldn’t have been the first.  Owen had always told her that money ought never to tempt her to do anything she didn’t like.  He had persuaded her to accept this engagement, though he knew that she did not want to sing in London.  How often before had she not refused, and with his approbation?  But then his pleasure was involved in the refusal or the acceptance of the engagement.  He did not mind her throwing over a valuable offer to sing if he wanted her to go yachting with him.  Men were so selfish.  She smiled, for she knew she was acting a little comedy with herself.  “But, quite seriously, I am annoyed with Owen.  The London engagement—­no, of course, I could not go on refusing to sing in London.”  She was annoyed with him because he had dissuaded her from doing what her instinct had told her was the right thing to do.  She had wished to go to her father the moment she set foot in England, and beg his forgiveness.  When they had arrived at Victoria, she had said that she would like to take the train to Dulwich.  There happened to be one waiting.  But they had had a rough crossing; she was very tired, and he had suggested she should postpone her visit to the next day.