If Miss Ladd had met me in a proper spirit, do you know what I would have done?
I would have played Macbeth in costume.

Just hear me, and judge for yourself.

I begin with a dreadful vacancy in my eyes, and a hollow moaning in my voice: 'Is this a dagger that I see before me-- ?'" Reciting with her face toward the trees, Emily started, dropped the character of Macbeth, and instantly became herself again: herself, with a rising color and an angry brightening of the eyes.

"Excuse me, I can't trust my memory: I must get the play." With that abrupt apology, she walked away rapidly in the direction of the house.
In some surprise, Francine turned, and looked at the trees.

She discovered--in full retreat, on his side--the eccentric drawing-master, Alban Morris.
Did he, too, admire the dagger-scene?
And was he modestly desirous of hearing it recited, without showing himself?
In that case, why should Emily (whose besetting weakness was certainly not want of confidence in her own resources) leave the garden the moment she caught sight of him?
Francine consulted her instincts.