But Ruby didn’t appear to have heard him. She was busy reading the cards on the flowers with a peeved expression on her face. It didn’t seem so very long ago that she had warranted this same adoration herself, but those days, it now seemed, were over. Still, she consoled herself, Kitty could earn them a lot of money, and that wasn’t to be sniffed at so she wished her daughter good luck and floated away on Max’s arm.

Maggie was clearly flabbergasted. This was her first glimpse of the theatrical world and life behind the scenes, and now she understood why Kitty’s head had been slightly turned. Even so, she was there to do a job so she ordered bossily, ‘Come along, you can read all these cards later. Right now, we have to get you ready.’

After completing Kitty’s stage make-up, Maggie helped Kitty into her fine new gown, careful not to disturb her hair, which Maggie was rather proud of, seeing as it was her first real attempt at hairdressing for a stage appearance. The stage make-up hadn’t been quite so easy to master, however. After her first attempt to make Kitty’s face up, the poor girl had resembled a clown.

‘Perhaps if we wipe off some of the rouge and tone down the lip colour, it won’t look so bad,’ Kitty suggested patiently.

Three attempts later they both agreed it looked much better – and even if it hadn’t time was passing, so it would just have to do.

‘I’m sure I’ll get better at it with time,’ Maggie apologised, wringing her hands. ‘Perhaps we should have asked Ruby to stay and show us how to do it properly. That panstick stuff is so thick I reckon it would go on easier with a trowel.’

‘It’s fine,’ Kitty said. And soon enough, someone tapped at the door and called out: ‘Miss Nightingale, five minutes,’ and she went to stand in the wings of the stage as the compère introduced her.

‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, what you’ve all been waiting for, the little songbird who has taken London by storm, our own, our very own, Miss Kitty Nightingale!’

Tonight, Kitty sang three ballads to a packed audience, letting her rich, poignant voice flow above their heads, and at the end of the last one she curtsied to heartfelt applause. The girl felt a thrill of power run through her. She knew that she had the audience in the palm of her hand and it was the best feeling in the world.

Max and Ruby were waiting for her in the wings and the audience were shouting, ‘Encore! Encore!’ Kitty would have been more than happy to go back onstage and sing another number, but Max caught her arm and shook his head.

‘You did very well, Kitty dear, but it’s best to leave them wanting. Come on, I think we ought to go and open that champagne.’

When they arrived back at her dressing room they found Maggie frantically trying to find room for yet more baskets of flowers that had been delivered.