Christine stood not five steps from the door, a scandalized look on her face. "Mme Giry? Meg? I might not have been decent. Why didn't you simply knock?"
"The entire Opera is looking for you, Christine. They have been for two hours, apparently." Mme Giry's voice was both relieved and chiding. "Where have you been?"
"I went for a walk. I was so overwhelmed after singing…I needed air. Then I came back here through the servants' entrance to avoid the patrons, and washed my face and changed clothes. You are fortunate that you came in after I changed." Christine tried to look annoyed. She was genuinely touched by their concern for her safety, but if they opened the door uninvited when Erik was visiting, it would turn into a mess she did not want to clean up.
"You should have let someone know, dear! It is not customary for divas to disappear after performances. Come, come. Get dressed, and we'll take you to them so they can stop their search, and congratulate you on your superb performance. Raoul said you sang like an angel."
"Oh, he did Christine. He came to me and Maman just to tell us that!" Meg beamed at her friend.
"Did he?" Christine asked. There was a peculiarly flat tone to her voice. "That was very sweet of him."
As they spoke, Mme Giry was dragging Christine up one corridor and down another, looking for the managers and Raoul. They met many people searching the halls, who wanted to stop and find out where the girl had reappeared from. Meg shooed them away, occasionally getting directions from someone who had spotted the central search party. They found them in the kitchens, beginning a search of the pantries.
"Messieurs? She is here. We have Christine." Meg called.
The three men turned and rushed to the ladies' side. Raoul took Christine's hands in his and kissed them. She smiled at him, but to the sensitive eyes of her childhood friend, it looked forced. In her mind Christine was thinking of Erik's kisses. Compared to those burning testaments, Raoul's seemed fabricated, like little shows put on for her benefit. He began to admonish her, as though she were a young girl.
"Christine, where have you been? We were so worried! We looked everywhere for you. We were about to head into the basements." He took her alarmed look to be worry over his displeasure. "I'm not angry with you. It's only that I was concerned for your well-being."
"I'm fine Raoul. I was overwhelmed from the crowds and the singing. I took a walk." She looked over to the very relieved managers. "I do apologize, Messieurs. I did not know that it was customary for the lead roles to meet with admirers after the production. I will try always to be present in the future. And believe me, if I ever go missing, the dark, musty old basements will be the last place you will find me." She retrieved her hands from Raoul, using the pretense of arranging her hair.
The managers thanked Raoul for assisting in the search and Mme Giry for returning Christine to them. After a few tired-looking bows, they shuffled off to find and disband the other search parties. Mme Giry looked at Raoul pointedly.
"Pardon us, Monsieur, but these young ladies need their rest. They must be at their most beautiful to perform tomorrow evening. I trust we will see you in the boxes then?"
Raoul was staring at Christine, who was blushing and looking away. How sweet, he thought, she's shy. When Mme Giry began to draw the young women away down the hall, he finally took the point. "Goodnight, ladies. Christine, you were absolutely divine tonight, darling. I do hope your teacher appreciates that you dedicated all your performances to him. He must be an extraordinary man. I look forward to meeting him. Again, goodnight," and he left.
Christine heaved a sigh of relief, then looked at Mme Giry and Meg, who were staring at her with curious eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.
"Christine…If I weren't sure that I'm awake, I would say that you are relieved Raoul has gone..." Meg's eyebrow was arched so high it almost disappeared under her fringe of straight brown hair.
Mme Giry also looked mildly surprised, though she had more insight into Christine's heart, having lived longer and seen so many promising young women disappear from the stage into the waiting kitchens of handsome husbands. She kept the girls moving in the general direction of their rooms as Christine tried to explain her feelings to Meg.
"It's just what you said the other day, Meg. Did you hear how he spoke to me tonight? I might as well have been his daughter! He's courting me seriously now, I suppose, and he probably has the most honorable of intentions. He'd marry me, carry me off to his estate, and I'd never set foot on the stage again. It wouldn't be proper." Her voice began a steady rise. "Well, I don't want to be proper as much as I want…as I want the…the music. And everyone will laugh behind their hands at me. And I don't care, Meg, I really don't. As long as they let me sing!" She rubbed her eyes with one tired hand. "I know this is scandalous. It's not the way a woman should feel. But it's the way I feel. Goodnight, ladies," and she flung herself through her door, closing it gently behind her.
Meg looked to her mother, bewildered. Mme Giry smiled sadly at her pretty daughter, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I've seen this happen before; a young woman choosing between the stage and the home. I believe Christine has made her choice, and there's nothing either of us can do about it. Not that I'd want to. I think she belongs to the stage. Don't you, ma chere?"
Raoul sat in his fine carriage, studying his gloves as it bounced down the rough streets. For the first time in his life, he found himself truly and deeply interested in another person. Christine baffled him and drew him in with her peculiarities. She was not at all interested in fashion, or children, or recipes, or sewing. She sang like an angel. Raoul was not musically inclined; the opera tended to bore him to tears (Heaven forbid anyone should find that out), but not when Christine was the one singing. He imagined her singing for their friends at soirees. Parties at the deChagny estate would be the envy of all Paris.
Not only was Christine talented, she was beautiful. She was the sort of girl he would be proud to take shopping in the town. And they would have to go shopping; her wardrobe was so austere! In fact, now that he thought about it, she would have to stop being so bookish in general. Everyone knew that too much study could overload a woman's delicate, weak mind and drive her mad. She needed to spend less time with her nose in books, and more time on pursuits more appropriate to a woman. Perhaps she would enjoy taking up needlepoint.
These happy thoughts kept him smiling as he stepped down from the carriage. Then he thought of the mysterious music teacher. No doubt it was this man who was encouraging Christine to behave so strangely. He thought it sloppy management that neither of the managers had demanded to meet Christine's teacher. Phillippe should have something to say about that. No young woman should be allowed to meet with an unknown man.
He won't remain unknown for long, thought Raoul. I will find him out. If no one else will protect Christine's honor, I will. If he could prove Christine to be a good, chaste girl, his brother could have no objections to their relationship. Feeling heroic and very noble, Raoul began to make plans. He would have to be very careful not to alert Christine to his intentions.
