A MUMMER'S WIFE

BY GEORGE MOORE

A DEDICATION TO ROBERT ROSS

I

In the sunset of his life a man often finds himself unable to put dateseven upon events in which his sympathies were, and perhaps are still, engaged; all things seem to have befallen yesterday, and yet it cannot beless than three years since we were anxious to testify to our belief in thekindness and justice with which you had fulfilled your double duties in the_Morning Post_ towards us and the proprietors of the paper. 

A committee sprang up quickly, and a letter was addressed by it to all thenotable workers in the arts and to all those who were known to beinterested in the arts, and very soon a considerable sum of money wascollected; but when the committee met to decide what form the commemorativegift should take, a perplexity arose, many being inclined towards a pieceof plate. It was pointed out that a piece of plate worth eight hundredpounds would prove a cumbersome piece of furniture--a white elephant, infact--in the small house or apartment or flat in which a critic usuallylives. The truth of this could not be gainsaid. Other suggestions wereforthcoming for your benefit, every one obtaining a certain amount ofsupport, but none commanding a majority of votes; and the perplexitycontinued till it was mooted that the disposal of the money should be leftto your option, and in view of the fact that you had filled the post of artcritic for many years, you decided to found a Slade scholarship. It seemedto you well that a young man on leaving the Slade School should be providedwith a sum of money sufficient to furnish a studio, and some seven or eighthundred pounds were invested, the remainder being spent on a trinket foryour personal wear--a watch. I have not forgotten that I was one of thedissidents, scholarships not appealing to me, but lately I have begun tosee that you were wise in the disposal of the money. A watch was enough forremembrance, and since I caught sight of it just now, the pleasant thoughtsit has evoked console me for your departure: after bidding you good-bye onthe doorstep, I return to my fireside to chew the cud once again of thetemperate and tolerant articles that I used to read years ago in the_Morning Post_. 

You see, Ross, I was critic myself for some years on the _Speaker_, but my articles were often bitter and explosive; I was prone to polemicsand lacked the finer sense that enabled you to pass over works with whichyou were not in sympathy, and without wounding the painter. My intentionwas often to wound him in the absurd hope that I might compel him to dobetter. My motto seems to have been 'Compel them to come in'--words used byJesus in one of his parables, and relied on by ecclesiastics as ajustification of persecution, and by many amongst us whose names I will notpillory here, for I have chosen that these pages shall be about you andnothing but you. If I speak of myself in a forgotten crusade, it is toplace you in your true light. We recognized your critical insight and yourliterary skill, but it was not for these qualities that we, the criticized, decided to present you, the critic, with a token of our gratitude; nor wasit because you had praised our works (a great number of the subscribers hadnot received praise from you): we were moved altogether, I think, by theconsciousness that you had in a difficult task proved yourself to be akindly critic, and yet a just one, and it was for these qualities that youreceived an honour, that is unique, I think, in the chronicles ofcriticism. 

II

Memory pulls me up, and out of some moments of doubt, the suspicion emergesthat all I am writing here was read by me somewhere: but it was not in ouroriginal declaration of faith, for I never saw it, not having attended thepresentation of the testimonial. Where, then? In the newspapers that quotedfrom the original document? Written out by whom? By Witt or by MacColl, excellent writers both? But being a writer myself, I am called upon to domy own writing.... Newspapers are transitory things--a good reason forwriting out the story afresh; and there is still another reason for writingit out--my reasons for dedicating this book to you. We must have reasonsalways, else we pass for unreasonable beings, and a better reason fordedicating a book to you than mine, I am fain to believe, will never befound by anybody in search of a reason for his actions. My name is amongthe signatories to the document that I have called 'our declaration offaith'; and having committed myself thus fully to your critical judgment, it seems to me that for the completion of the harmony a dedication isnecessary. A fair share of reasons I am setting forth for this act of mine, every one of them valid, and the most valid of all my reason for choosingthis book, _A Mummer's Wife_, to dedicate to you, is your owncommendation of it the other night when you said to me that no book of minein your opinion was more likely to 'live'! To live for five-and-twentyyears is as long an immortality as anyone should set his heart on; for whowould wish to be chattered about by the people that will live in theseislands three hundred years hence? We should not understand them nor theyus. Avaunt, therefore, all legendary immortalities, and let us be content, Ross, to be remembered by our friends, and, perhaps, to have our namespassed on by disciples to another generation! A fair and naturalimmortality this is; let us share it together. Our bark lies in theharbour: you tell me the spars are sound, and the seams have been caulked;the bark, you say, is seaworthy and will outlive any of the little stormsthat she may meet on the voyage--a better craft is not to be found in mylittle fleet. You said yesterevening across the hearthrug, '_EstherWaters_ speaks out of a deeper appreciation of life;' but you added: 'In_A Mummer's Wife_ there is a youthful imagination and a young man'sexuberance on coming into his own for the first time, and this is aquality--'No doubt it is a quality, Ross; but what kind of quality? You didnot finish your sentence, or I have forgotten it. Let me finish it foryou--'that outweighs all other qualities' But does it? I am interpretingyou badly. You would not commit yourself to so crude an opinion, and I amprepared to believe that I did not catch the words as they fell from yourlips. All I can recall for certain of the pleasant moment when, you wereconsidering which of my works you liked the best are stray words that maybe arranged here into a sentence which, though it does not represent yourcritical judgments accurately, may be accepted by you. You said yourthoughts went more frequently to _A Mummer's Wife_ than to _EstherWaters_; and I am almost sure something was said about the earlier bookbeing a more spontaneous issue of the imagination, and that the wanderinglife of the mummers gives an old-world, adventurous air to the book, reminding you of _The Golden Ass_--a book I read last year, and foundin it so many remembrances of myself that I fell to thinking it was a bookI might have written had I lived two thousand years ago. Who can say he hasnot lived before, and is it not as important to believe we lived herebeforeas it is to believe we are going to live hereafter? If I had livedherebefore, Jupiter knows what I should have written, but it would not havebeen _Esther Waters_: more likely a book like _A Mummer'sWife_--a band of jugglers and acrobats travelling from town to town. AsI write these lines an antique story rises up in my mind, a recollection ofone of my lost works or an instantaneous reading of Apuleius into _AMummers Wife_--which?

G. M. 

A MUMMER'S WIFE

I

In default of a screen, a gown and a red petticoat had been thrown over aclothes-horse, and these shaded the glare of the lamp from the eyes of thesick man. In the pale obscurity of the room, his bearded cheeks could beseen buried in a heap of tossed pillows. By his bedside sat a young woman. As she dozed, her face drooped until her features were hidden, and thelamp-light made the curious curves of a beautiful ear look like a piece ofilluminated porcelain. Her hands lay upon her lap, her needlework slippedfrom them; and as it fell to the ground she awoke. 

She pressed her hands against her forehead and made an effort to rouseherself. As she did so, her face contracted with an expression of disgust, and she remembered the ether. The soft, vaporous odour drifted towards herfrom a small table strewn with medicine bottles, and taking care to holdthe cork tightly in her fingers she squeezed it into the bottle. 

At that moment the clock struck eleven and the clear tones of its bellbroke the silence sharply; the patient moaned as if in reply, and his thinhairy arms stirred feverishly on the wide patchwork counterpane. She tookthem in her hands and covered them over; she tried to arrange the pillowsmore comfortably, but as she did so he turned and tossed impatiently, and, fearing to disturb him, she put back the handkerchief she had taken fromthe pillow to wipe the sweat from his brow, and regaining her chair, with aweary movement she picked up the cloth that had fallen from her knees andslowly continued her work. 

It was a piece of patchwork like the counterpane on the bed; the squares ofa chessboard had been taken as a design, and, selecting a fragment ofstuff, she trimmed it into the required shape and sewed it into itsallotted corner. 

Nothing was now heard but the methodical click of her needle as it struckthe head of her thimble, and then the long swish of the thread as she drewit through the cloth. The lamp at her elbow burned steadily, and the glareglanced along her arm as she raised it with the large movement of sewing. 

Her hair was blue wherever the light touched it, and it encircled the whiteprominent temple like a piece of rich black velvet; a dark shadow definedthe delicate nose, and hinted at thin indecision of lips, whilst a broadtouch of white marked the weak but not unbeautiful chin. 

On the corner of the table lay a book, a well-worn volume in a faded redpaper cover. It was a novel she used to read with delight when she was agirl, but it had somehow failed to interest her, and after a few pages shehad laid it aside, preferring for distraction her accustomed sewing. Shewas now well awake, and, as she worked, her thoughts turned on thingsconcerning the daily routine of her life. She thought of the time when herhusband would be well: of the pillow she was making; of how nice it wouldlook in the green armchair; of the much greater likelihood of letting theirrooms if they were better furnished; of their new lodger; and of theprobability of a quarrel between him and her mother-in-law, Mrs. Ede. 

For more than a week past the new lodger had formed the staple subject ofconversation in this household. Mrs. Ede, Kate's mother-in-law, was loud inher protestations that the harbouring of an actor could not but be attendedby bad luck. Kate felt a little uneasy; her puritanism was of a less markedkind; perhaps at first she had felt inclined to agree with hermother-in-law, but her husband had shown himself so stubborn, and had sopersistently declared that he was not going to keep his rooms empty anylonger, that for peace' sake she was fain to side with him. The questionarose in a very unexpected way. During the whole winter they wereunfortunate with their rooms, though they made many attempts to getlodgers; they even advertised. Some few people asked to see the rooms; butthey merely made an offer. One day a man who came into the shop to buy somepaper collars asked Kate if she had any apartments to let. She answeredyes, and they went upstairs. After a cursory inspection he told her that hewas the agent in advance to a travelling opera company, and that if sheliked he would recommend her rooms to the stage manager, a particularfriend of his. The proposition was somewhat startling, but, not liking tosay no, she proposed to refer the matter to her husband. 

At that particular moment Ede happened to be engaged in a violent disputewith his mother, and so angry was he that when Mrs. Ede raised her hands toprotest against the introduction of an actor into the household, hestraightway told her that 'if she didn't like it she might do the otherthing. ' Nothing more was said at the time; the old lady retired inindignation, and Mr. Lennox was written to. Kate sympathized alternatelywith both sides. Mrs. Ede was sturdy in defence of her principles; Ede waspetulant and abusive; and between the two Kate was blown about like afeather in a storm. Daily the argument waxed warmer, until one night, inthe middle of a scene characterized by much Biblical quotation, Ededeclared he could stand it no longer, and rushed out of the house. In vainthe women tried to stop him, knowing well what the consequences would be. Adraught, a slight exposure, sufficed to give him a cold, and with him acold always ended in an asthmatic attack. And these were often so violentas to lay him up for weeks at a time. When he returned, his temper growncooler under the influence of the night air, he was coughing, and the nextnight found him breathless. His anger had at first vented itself againsthis mother, whom he refused to see, and thus the whole labour of nursinghim was thrown on Kate. She didn't grumble at this, but it was terrible tohave to listen to him. 

It was Mr. Lennox, and nothing but Mr. Lennox. All the pauses in thesuffocation were utilized to speak on this important question, and even nowKate, who had not yet perceived that the short respite which getting rid ofthe phlegm had given him was coming to an end, expected him to saysomething concerning the still unknown person. But Ede did not speak, and, to put herself as it were out of suspense, she referred to some previousconversation:

'I'm sure you're right; the only people in the town who let their rooms arethose who have a theatrical connection. '

'Oh, I don't care; I'm going to have a bad night, ' said Mr. Ede, who nowthought only of how he should get his next breath. 

'But you seemed to be getting better, ' she replied hurriedly. 

'No! I feel it coming on--I'm suffocating. Have you got the ether?'

Kate did not answer, but made a rapid movement towards the table, andsnatching the bottle she uncorked it. The sickly odour quietly spread likeoil over the close atmosphere of the room, but, mastering her repugnance, she held it to him, and in the hope of obtaining relief he inhaled itgreedily. But the remedy proved of no avail, and he pushed the bottle away. 

'Oh, these headaches! My head is splitting, ' he said, after a deepinspiration which seemed as if it would cost him his life. 'Nothing seemsto do me any good. Have you got any cigarettes?'

'I'm sorry, they haven't arrived yet. I wrote for them, ' she replied, hesitating; 'but don't you think--?'

He shook his head; and, resenting Kate's assiduities, with tremblingfingers he unfastened the shawl she had placed on his shoulders, and then, planting his elbows on his knees, with a fixed head and elevated shoulders, he gave himself up to the struggle of taking breath.... At that moment shewould have laid down her life to save him from the least of his pains, butshe could only sit by him watching the struggle, knowing that nothing couldbe done to relieve him. She had seen the same scene repeated a hundredtimes before, but it never seemed to lose any of its terror. In the firstmonth of their marriage she had been frightened by one of these asthmaticattacks. It had come on in the middle of the night, and she remembered wellhow she had prayed to God that it should not be her fate to see her husbanddie before her eyes. She knew now that death was not to be apprehended--theparoxysm would wear itself out--but she knew also of the horrors that wouldhave to be endured before the time of relief came. She could count themupon her fingers--she could see it all as in a vision--a nightmare thatwould drag out its long changes until the dawn began to break; sheanticipated the hours of the night. 

'Air! Air! I'm suff-o-cating!' he sobbed out with a desperate effort. 

Kate ran to the window and threw it open. The paroxysm had reached itsheight, and, resting his elbows well on his knees, he gasped many times, but before the inspiration was complete his strength failed him. No wantbut that of breath could have forced him to try again; and the secondeffort was even more terrible than the first. A great upheaval, a greatwrenching and rocking seemed to be going on within him; the veins on hisforehead were distended, the muscles of his chest laboured, and it seemedas if every minute were going to be his last. But with a supreme effort hemanaged to catch breath, and then there was a moment of respite, and Katecould see that he was thinking of the next struggle, for he breathedavariciously, letting the air that had cost him so much agony pass slowlythrough his lips. To breathe again he would have to get on to his feet, which he did, and so engrossed was he in the labour of breathing that hepushed the paraffin lamp roughly; it would have fallen had Kate not beenthere to catch it. She besought of him to say what he wanted, but he madeno reply, and continued to drag himself from one piece of furniture toanother, till at last, grasping the back of a chair, he breathed by jerks, each inspiration being accompanied by a violent spasmodic wrench, violentenough to break open his chest. She watched, expecting every moment to seehim roll over, a corpse, but knowing from past experiences that he wouldrecover somehow. His recoveries always seemed to her like miracles, and shewatched the long pallid face crushed under a shock of dark matted hair, adirty nightshirt, a pair of thin legs; but for the moment the grandeur ofhuman suffering covered him, lifting him beyond the pale of loving orloathing, investing and clothing him in the pity of tragic things. Theroom, too, seemed transfigured. The bare wide floor, the gaunt bed, thepoor walls plastered with religious prints cut from journals, even theordinary furniture of everyday use--the little washhandstand with thecommon delf ewer, the chest of drawers that might have been bought forthirty shillings--lost their coarseness; their triviality disappeared, until nothing was seen or felt but this one suffering man. 

The minutes slipped like the iron teeth of a saw over Kate's sensibilities. A hundred times she had run over in her mind the list of remedies she hadseen him use. They were few in number, and none of any real service exceptthe cigarettes which she had not. She asked him to allow her to try iodine, but he could not or would not make her any answer. It was cruel to see himstruggling, but he resisted assistance, and watching like one in a dream, frightened at her own powerlessness to save or avert, Kate remainedcrouching by the fireplace without strength to think or act, until she wassuddenly awakened by seeing him relax his hold and slip heavily on thefloor; and it was only by putting forth her whole strength she could gethim into a sitting position; when she attempted to place him in a chair heslipped through her arms. There was, therefore, nothing to do but to shriekfor help, and hope to awaken her mother-in-law. The echoes rang through thehouse, and as they died away, appalled, she listened to the silence. 

At length it grew clear that Mrs. Ede could not be awakened, and Kate sawthat she would have to trust to herself alone, and after two or threefailures she applied herself to winning him back to consciousness. It wasnecessary to do so before attempting to move him again, and, sprinkling hisface with water, she persuaded him to open his eyes, and after one littlestare he slipped back into the nothingness he had come out of; and this wasrepeated several times, Kate redoubling her efforts until at last shesucceeded in placing him in a chair. He sat there, still striving andstruggling with his breath, unable to move, and soaked with sweat, butgetting better every minute. The worst of the attack was now over; shebuttoned his nightshirt across his panting chest and covered his shoulderswith his red shawl once more, and with a sentiment of real tenderness shetook his hand in hers. She looked at him, feeling her heart grow larger. 

He was her husband; he had suffered terribly, and was now getting better;and she was his wife, whose duty it was to attend him. She only wished hewould allow her to love him a little better; but against her will factspierced through this luminous mist of sentiment, and she could not helpremembering how petulant he was with her, how utterly all her wishes weredisregarded. 'What a pity he's not a little different!' she thought; butwhen she looked at him and saw how he suffered, all other thoughts wereonce more drowned and swept away. She forgot how he often rendered her lifemiserable, wellnigh unbearable, by small vices, faults that defydefinition, unending selfishness and unceasing irritability. But now alldissatisfaction and bitternesses were again merged into a sentiment thatwas akin to love; and in this time of physical degradation he possessed herperhaps more truly, more perfectly, than even in his best moments ofhealth. 

But her life was one of work, not of musing, and there was plenty for herto attend to. Ralph would certainly not be able to leave his chair for sometime yet; she had wrapped him up comfortably in a blanket, she could do nomore, and whilst he was recovering it would be as well to tidy up the rooma bit. He would never be able to sleep in a bed that he had been lying inall day; she had better make the bed at once, for he generally got a littleease towards morning, particularly after a bad attack. So, hoping that thepresent occasion would not prove an exception, Kate set to work to make thebed. She resolved to do this thoroughly, and turning the mattress over, sheshook it with all her force. She did the same with the pillows, and fearingthat there might be a few crumbs sticking to the sheets, she shook them outseveral times; and when the last crease had been carefully smoothed awayshe went back to her husband and insisted on being allowed to paint hisback with iodine, although he did not believe in the remedy. On his sayinghe was thirsty, she went creeping down the narrow stairs to the kitchen, hunted for matches in the dark, lighted a spirit lamp and made him a hotdrink, which he drank without thanking her. She fell to thinking of hisingratitude, and then of the discomfort of the asthma. How could she expecthim to think of her when he was thinking of his breath? All the same, onthese words her waking thoughts must have passed into dream thoughts. Shewas still watching by his bedside, waiting to succour him whenever heshould ask for help, yet she must have been asleep. She did not know howlong she slept, but it could not have been for long; and there was noreason for his peevishness, for she had not left him. 

'I'm sorry, Ralph, but I could not help it, I was so very tired. What can Ido for you, dear?'

'Do for me?' he said--'why, shut the window. I might have died for all youwould have known or cared. '

She walked across the room and shut the window, but as she came back to herplace she said, 'I don't know why you speak to me like that, Ralph. '

'Prop me up: if I lie so low I shall get bad again. If you had a touch ofthis asthma you'd know what it is to lie alone for hours. '

'For hours, Ralph?' Kate repeated, and she looked at the clock and saw thatshe had not been asleep for more than half an hour. Without contradictinghim--for of what use would that be, only to make matters worse?--shearranged the pillows and settled the blankets about him, and thinking itwould be advisable to say something, she congratulated him on seeming somuch better. 

'Better! If I'm better, it's no thanks to you, ' he said. 'You must havebeen mad to leave the window open so long. '

'You wanted it open; you know very well that when you're very bad like thatyou must have change of air. The room was so close. '

'Yes, but that is no reason for leaving it open half an hour. '

'I offered to shut it, and you wouldn't let me. '

'I dare say you're sick of nursing me, and would like to get rid of me. Thewindow wasn't a bad dodge. '

Kate remained silent, being too indignant for the moment to think ofreplying; but it was evident from her manner that she would not be able tocontain herself much longer. He had hurt her to the quick, and her browneyes swam with tears. His head lay back upon the built-up pillows, he fumedslowly, trying to find new matter for reproach, and breath wherewith toexplain it. At last he thought of the cigarettes. 

'Even supposing that you did not remember how long you left the windowopen, I cannot understand how you forgot to send for the cigarettes. Youknow well enough that smoking is the only thing that relieves me when I'min this state. I think it was most unfeeling--yes, most unfeeling!' Havingsaid so much, he leaned forward to get breath, and coughed. 

'You'd better lie still, Ralph; you'll only make yourself bad again. Nowthat you feel a little easier you should try to go to sleep. '

So far she got without betraying any emotion, but as she continued toadvise him her voice began to tremble, her presence of mind to forsake her, and she burst into a flood of tears. 

'I don't know how you can treat me as you do, ' she said, sobbinghysterically. 'I do everything--I give up my night's rest to you, I workhard all day for you, and in return I only receive hard words. Oh, it's nouse, ' she said; 'I can bear it no longer; you'll have to get someone elseto mind you. '

This outburst of passion came suddenly upon Mr. Ede, and for some time hewas at a loss how to proceed. At last, feeling a little sorry, he resolvedto make it up, and putting out his hand to her, he said:

'Now, don't cry, Kate; perhaps I was wrong in speaking so crossly. I didn'tmean all I said--it's this horrid asthma. '

'Oh, I can bear anything but to be told I neglect you--and when I stop upwatching you three nights running----'

These little quarrels were of constant occurrence. Irritable by nature, andrendered doubly so by the character of his complaint, the invalid at timesfound it impossible to restrain his ill-humour; but he was not entirelybad; he inherited a touch of kind-heartedness from his mother, and beingnow moved by Kate's tears, he said:

'That's quite true, and I'm sorry for what I said; you are a good littlenurse. I won't scold you again. Make it up. '

Kate found it hard to forget merely because Ralph desired it, and for sometime she refused to listen to his expostulations, and walked about the roomcrying, but her anger could not long resist the dead weight of sleep thatwas oppressing her, and eventually she came and sat down in her own placeby him. The next step to reconciliation was more easy. Kate was notvindictive, although quicktempered, and at last, amid some hystericalsobbing, peace was restored. Ralph began to speak of his asthma again, telling how he had fancied he was going to die, and when she expressed herfear and regret he hastened to assure her that no one ever died of asthma, that a man might live fifty, sixty, or seventy years, suffering all thewhile from the complaint; and he rambled on until words and ideas togetherfailed him, and he fell asleep. With a sigh of relief Kate rose to herfeet, and seeing that he was settled for the night, she turned to leavehim, and passed into her room with a slow and dragging movement; but theplace had a look so cold and unrestful that it pierced through even hersense of weariness, and she stood urging her tired brains to think of whatshe should do. At last, remembering that she could get a pillow from theroom they reserved for letting, she turned to go. 

Facing their room, and only divided by the very narrowest of passages, wasthe stranger's apartment. 

Both doors were approached by a couple of steps, which so reduced the spacethat were two people to meet on the landing, one would have to give way tothe other. Mr. And Mrs. Ede found this proximity to their lodger, when theyhad one, somewhat inconvenient, but, as he said, 'One doesn't get tenshillings a week for nothing. '

Kate lingered a moment on the threshold, and then, with the hand in whichshe held the novel she had been reading, she picked up her skirt andstepped across the way. 

II

At first she could not determine who was passing through the twilight ofthe room, but as the blinds were suddenly drawn up and a flood of sunlightpoured across the bed, she fell back amid the pillows, having recognizedher mother-in-law in a painful moment of semi-blindness. The old womancarried a slop-pail, which she nearly dropped, so surprised was she to findKate in the stranger's room. 

'But how did you get here?' she said hastily. 

'I had to give Ralph my pillow, and when he went to sleep I came to fetchone out of the bedroom here; and then I thought I would be more comfortablehere--I was too tired to go back again--I don't know how it was--what doesit matter?'

Kate, who was stupefied with sleep, had answered so crossly that Mrs. Ededid not speak for some time; at last, at the end of a long silence, shesaid:

'Then he had a very bad night?'

'Dreadful!' returned Kate. 'I never was so frightened in my life. '

'And how did the fit come on?' asked Mrs. Ede. 

'Oh, I can't tell you now, ' said Kate. 'I'm so tired. I'm aching all over. '

'Well, then, I'll bring you up your breakfast. You do look tired. It willdo you good to remain in bed. '

'Bring me up my breakfast! Then, what time is it?' said Kate, sitting up inbed with a start. 

'What does it matter what the time is? If you're tired, lie still; I'll seethat everything is right. '

'But I've promised Mrs. Barnes her dress by tomorrow night. Oh, mygoodness! I shall never get it done! Do tell me what time it is. '

'Well, it's just nine, ' the old woman answered apologetically; 'but Mrs. Barnes will have to wait; you can't kill yourself. It's a great shame ofRalph to have you sitting up when I could look after him just as well, andall because of the mummer. '

'Oh, don't, mother, ' said Kate, who knew that Mrs. Ede could rateplay-actors for a good half-hour without feeling the time passing, andtaking her mother-in-law's hands in hers, she looked earnestly in her face, saying:

'You know, mother, I have a hard time of it, and I try to bear up as wellas I can. You're the only one I've to help me; don't turn against me. Ralphhas set his mind on having the rooms let, and the mummer, as you call him, is coming here to-day; it's all settled. Promise me you'll do nothing tounsettle it, and that while Mr. Lennox is here you'll try to make himcomfortable. I've my dressmaking to attend to, and can't be always afterhim. Will you do this thing for me?' and after a moment or so of indecisionMrs. Ede said:

'I don't believe money made out of such people can bring luck, but sinceyou both wish it, I suppose I must give way. But you won't be able to say Ididn't warn you. '

'Yes, yes, but since we can't prevent his coming, will you promise thatwhilst he's here you'll attend to him just as you did to the othergentleman?'

'I shall say nothing to him, and if he doesn't make the house a disgrace, Ishall be well satisfied. '

'How do you mean a disgrace?'

'Don't you know, dear, that actors have always a lot of women after them, and I for one am not going to attend on wenches like them. If I had my wayI'd whip such people until I slashed all the wickedness out of them. '

'But he won't bring any women here; we won't allow it, ' said Kate, a littleshocked, and she strove to think how they should put a stop to suchbehaviour. 'If Mr. Lennox doesn't conduct himself properly--'

'Of course I shall try to do my duty, and if Mr. Lennox respects himself Ishall try to respect him. '

She spoke these words hesitatingly, but the admission that she possiblymight respect Mr. Lennox satisfied Kate, and not wishing to press thematter further, she said, suddenly referring to their previousconversation:

'But didn't you say that it was nine o'clock?'

'It's more than nine now. '

'Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! how late I am! I suppose the two little girls arehere?'

'They just came in as I was going upstairs; I've set them to work. '

'I wish you'd get the tea ready, and you might make some buttered toast;Ralph would like some, and so should I, for the matter of that. '

Then Ralph's voice was heard calling, and seeing what was wanted, shehastened to his assistance. 

'Where were you last night?' he asked her. 

'I slept in the stranger's room; I thought you'd not require me, and I wasmore comfortable there. The bed in the back room is all ups and downs. '

He was breathing heavily in a way that made her fear he was going to haveanother attack. 

'Is mother in a great rage because I won't let her in?' he said presently. 

'She's very much cut up about it, dear; you know she loves you better thananyone in the world. You'd do well to make it up with her. '

'Well, perhaps I was wrong, ' he said after a time, and with good humour, 'but she annoys me. She will interfere in everything; as if I hadn't aright to let my rooms to whom I please. She pays for all she has here, butI'd much sooner she left us than be lorded over in that way. '

'She doesn't want to lord it over you, dear. It's all arranged. Shepromised me just now she'd say nothing more about it, and that she'd lookafter Mr. Lennox like any other lodger. '

On hearing that his mother was willing to submit to his will, the invalidsmiled and expressed regret that the presence of an extra person in thehouse, especially an actor, would give his wife and mother more work to do. 

'But I shall soon be well, ' he said, 'and I dare say downstairs lookingafter the shop in a week. '

Kate protested against such imprudence, and then suggested she should goand see after his breakfast. Ralph proffered no objection, and bidding himgoodbye for the present, she went downstairs. Annie was helping Mrs. Ede tomake the toast in the front kitchen; Lizzie stood at the table butteringit, but as soon as Kate entered they returned to their sewing, for it wasagainst Kate's theories that the apprentices should assist in the householdwork. 

'Dear mother, ' she began, but desisted, and when all was ready Mrs. Ede, remembering she had to make peace with her son, seized the tray and wentupstairs. And the moment she was gone Kate seated herself wearily on thered, calico-covered sofa. Like an elongated armchair, it looked quaint, neat, and dumpy, pushed up against the wall between the black fireplace onthe right and the little window shaded with the muslin blinds, under whicha pot of greenstuff bloomed freshly. She lay back thinking vaguely, her cupof hot tea uppermost in her mind, hoping that Mrs. Ede would not keep herwaiting long; and then, as her thoughts detached themselves, she rememberedthe actor whom they expected that afternoon. The annoyances which he hadunconsciously caused her had linked him to her in a curious way, and allher prejudices vanished in the sensation of nearness that each succeedinghour magnified, and she wondered who this being was who had brought so muchtrouble into her life even before she had seen him. As the word 'trouble'went through her mind she paused, arrested by a passing feeling ofsentimentality; but it explained nothing, defined nothing, only touched heras a breeze does a flower, and floated away. The dreamy warmth of the fireabsorbed her more direct feelings, and for some moments she dozed in a hazeof dim sensuousness and emotive numbness. As in a dusky glass, she sawherself a tender, loving, but unhappy woman; by her side were her queruloushusband and her kindly-minded mother-in-law, and then there was a phantomshe could not determine, and behind it something into which she could notsee. Was it a distant country? Was it a scene of revelry? Impossible tosay, for whenever she attempted to find definite shapes in the glowingcolours they vanished in a blurred confusion. 

But amid these fleeting visions there was one shape that particularlyinterested her, and she pursued it tenaciously, until in a desperate effortto define its features she awoke with a start and spoke more crossly thanshe intended to the little girls, who had pulled aside the curtain and wereintently examining the huge theatrical poster that adorned the corner ofthe lane. But as she scolded she could not help smiling; for she saw howher dream had been made out of the red and blue dresses of the picture. 

The arrival of each new company in the town was announced pictorially onthis corner wall, and, in the course of the year, many of the vicissitudesto which human life is liable received illustration upon it. Wrecks at sea, robberies on the highways, prisoners perishing in dungeons, green lanes andlovers, babies, glowing hearths, and heroic young husbands. The operacompanies exhibited the less serious sides of life--strangely dressedpeople and gallants kissing their hands to ladies standing on balconies. 

The little girls examined these pictures and commented on them; and onSaturdays it was a matter of the keenest speculation what the followingweek would bring them. Lizzie preferred exciting scenes of murder andarson, while Annie was moved more by leavetakings and declarations ofunalterable affection. These differences of taste often gave rise to littlebickerings, and last week there had been much prophesying as to whether thetragic or the sentimental element would prove next week's attraction. Lizzie had voted for robbers and mountains, Annie for lovers and a nicecottage. And, remembering their little dispute, Kate said:

'Well, dears, is it a robber or a sweetheart?'

'We're not sure, ' exclaimed both children in a disappointed tone of voice;'we can't make the picture out. ' Then Lizzie, who cared little foruncertainties, said:

'It isn't a nice picture at all; it is all mixed up. '

'Not a nice picture at all, and all mixed up?' said Kate, smiling, yetinterested in the conversation. 'And all mixed up; how is that? I must seeif I can make it out myself. '

The huge poster contained some figures nearly life-size. It showed a younggirl in a bridal dress and wreath struggling between two police agents, whowere arresting her in a marketplace of old time, in a strangely costumedcrowd, which was clamouring violently. The poor bridegroom was being heldback by his friends; a handsome young man in knee-breeches and a cocked hatwatched the proceedings cynically in the right-hand corner, whilst on theleft a big fat man frantically endeavoured to recover his wig, that hadbeen lost in the mêlée. The advertisement was headed, 'Morton and Cox'sOperatic Company, ' and concluded with the announcement that _MadameAngot_ would be played at the Queen's Theatre. After a few moments spentin examining the picture Kate said it must have something to do withFrance. 

'I know what it means, ' cried Lizzie; 'you see that old chap on the right?He's the rich man who has sent the two policemen to carry the bride to hiscastle, and it's the young fellow in the corner who has betrayed them. '

The ingenuity of this explanation took Kate and Annie so much by surprisethat for the moment they could not attempt to controvert it, and remainedsilent, whilst Lizzie looked at them triumphantly. The more they examinedthe picture the more clear did it appear that Lizzie was right. At the endof a long pause Kate said:

'Anyhow, we shall soon know, for one of the actors of the company is cominghere to lodge, and we'll ask him. '

'A real actor coming here to lodge?' exclaimed Annie. 'Oh, how nice thatwill be! And will he take us to see the play?'

'How silly of you, Annie!' said Lizzie, who, proud of her successfulexplanation of the poster, was a little inclined to think she knew allabout actors. 'How can he take us to the play? Isn't he going to act ithimself? But do tell me, Mrs. Ede--is he the one in the cocked hat?'

'I hope he isn't the fat man who has lost his wig, ' Annie murmured underher breath. 

'I don't know which of those gentlemen is coming here. For all I know itmay be the policeman, ' Kate added maliciously. 

'Don't say that, Mrs. Ede!' Annie exclaimed. 

Kate smiled at the children's earnestness, and, wishing to keep up thejoke, said:

'You know, my dear, they are only sham policemen, and I dare say are verynice gentlemen in reality. '

Annie and Lizzie hung down their heads; it was evident they had nosympathies with policemen, not even with sham ones. 

'But if it isn't a policeman, who would you like it to be, Lizzie?' saidKate. 

'Oh, the man in the cocked hat, ' replied Lizzie without hesitation. 

'And you, Annie?'

Annie looked puzzled, and after a moment said with a slight whimper:

'Lizzie always takes what I want--I was just going--'

'Oh yes, miss, we know all about that, ' returned Lizzie derisively. 'Annienever can choose for herself; she always tries to imitate me. She'll havethe man who's lost his wig! Oh yes, yes! Isn't it so, Mrs. Ede? Isn't Anniegoing to marry the man who's lost his wig?'

Tears trembled in Annie's eyes, but as she happened at that moment to catchsight of the young man in white, she declared triumphantly that she wouldchoose him. 

'Well done, Annie!' said Kate, laughing as she patted the child's curls, but her eyes fell on the neglected apron, and seeing how crookedly it wasbeing hemmed, she said:

'Oh, my dear, this is very bad; you must go back, undo all you have donethis morning, and get it quite straight. '

She undid some three or four inches of the sewing, and then showed thechild how the hem was to be turned in, and while she did so a smile hoveredround the corners of her thin lips, for she was thinking of the new lodger, asking herself which man in the picture was coming to lodge in her house. 

Mrs. Ede returned, talking angrily, but Kate could only catch the words'waiting' and 'breakfast cold' and 'sorry. ' At last, out of a confusion ofwords a reproof broke from her mother-in-law for not having roused her. 

'I called and called, ' said Kate, 'but nothing would have awakened you. '

'You should have knocked at my door, ' Mrs. Ede answered, and after speakingabout open house and late hours she asked Kate suddenly what was going tobe done about the latchkey. 

'I suppose he will have to have his latchkey, ' Kate answered. 

'I shall not close my eyes, ' Mrs. Ede returned, 'until I hear him come intothe house. He won't be bringing with him any of the women from thetheatre. '

Kate assured her that she would make this part of the bargain, and somewhatsoftened, Mrs. Ede spoke of the danger of bad company, and trusted thathaving an actor in the house would not be a reason for going to the theatreand falling into idle habits. 

'One would have thought that we heard enough of that theatre from MissHender, ' she interjected, and then lapsed into silence. 

Miss Hender, Kate's assistant, was one of Mrs. Ede's particular dislikes. Of her moral character Mrs. Ede had the gravest doubts; for what could beexpected, she often muttered, of a person who turned up her nose when shewas asked to stay and attend evening prayers, and who kept company with astage carpenter?

Mrs. Ede did not cease talking of Hender till the girl herself came in, with many apologies for being an hour behind her time, and saying that shereally could not help it; her sister had been very ill, and she had beenobliged to sit up with her all night. Mrs. Ede smiled at this explanation, and withdrew, leaving Kate in doubt as to the truth of the excuse putforward by her assistant; but remembering that Mrs. Barnes's dress had beenpromised for Tuesday morning, she said:

'Come, we're wasting all the morning; we must get on with Mrs. Barnes'sdress, ' and a stout, buxom, carroty-haired girl of twenty followed Kateupstairs, thinking of the money she might earn and of how she and the stagecarpenter might spend it together. She was always full of informationconcerning the big red house in Queen Street. She was sure that the hoursin the workroom would not seem half so long if Kate would wake up a bit, goto the play, and chat about what was going on in the town. How anyone couldlive with that horrid old woman always hanging about, with her religion andsalvation, was beyond her. She hadn't time for such things, and as forBill, he said it was all 'tommy-rot. '

Hender was an excellent workwoman, although a lazy girl, and, seeing fromKate's manner that the time had not come for conversation, applied herselfdiligently to her business. Placing the two side-seams and the back underthe needle, she gave the wheel a turn, and rapidly the little steel needledarted up and down into the glistening silk, as Miss Hender's thick handspushed it forward. The work was too delicate to admit of any distraction, so for some time nothing was heard but the clinking rattle of the machineand the 'swishing' of the silk as Kate drew it across the table and snippedit with the scissors which hung from her waist. 

But at the end of about half an hour the work came to a pause. Hender hadfinished sewing up the bodice, had tacked on the facings, and Kate had cutout the skirt and basted it together. The time had come for exchanging afew words, and lifting her head from her work, she asked her assistant ifshe could remain that evening and do a little overtime. Hender said she wasvery sorry, but it was the first night of the new opera company; she hadpasses for the pit, and had promised to take a friend with her. She would, therefore, have to hurry away a little before six, so as to have her teaand be dressed in time. 

'Well, I don't know what I shall do, ' said Kate sorrowfully. 'As formyself, I simply couldn't pass another night out of bed. You know I wasup looking after my husband all night. Attending a sick man, and one ascross as Mr. Ede, is not very nice, I can assure you. '

Hender congratulated herself inwardly that Bill was never likely to wantmuch attendance. 

'I think you'd better tell Mrs. Barnes that she can't expect the dress; itwill be impossible to get it done in the time. I'd be delighted to helpyou, but I couldn't disappoint my little friend. Besides, you've Mr. Lennoxcoming here to-day ... You can't get the dress done by to-morrow night!'

Hender had been waiting for a long time for an opportunity to lead up toMr. Lennox. 

'Oh, dear me!' said Kate, 'I'd forgotten him, and he'll be coming thisafternoon, and may want some dinner, and I'll have to help mother. '

'They always have dinner in the afternoon, ' said Miss Hender, with afeeling of pride at being able to speak authoritatively on the ways andhabits of actors. 

'Do they?' replied Kate reflectively; and then, suddenly remembering herpromise to the little girls, she said:

'But do you know what part he takes in the play?'

Hender always looked pleased when questioned about the theatre, but all thestage carpenter had been able to tell her about the company was that it wasone of the best travelling; that Frank Bret, the tenor, was supposed tohave a wonderful voice; that the amount of presents he received in eachtown from ladies in the upper ranks of society would furnish a smallshop--'It's said that they'd sell the chemises off their backs for him. 'The stage carpenter had also informed her that Joe Mortimer's performancein the Cloches was extraordinary; he never failed to bring down the housein his big scene; and Lucy Leslie was the best Clairette going. 

And now that they were going to have an actor lodging in their house, Katefelt a certain interest in hearing what such people were like; and whileMiss Hender gossiped about all she had heard, Kate remembered that herquestion relating to Mr. Lennox remained unanswered. 

'But you've not told me what part Mr. Lennox plays. Perhaps he's the man inwhite who is being dragged away from his bride? I've been examining the bigpicture; the little girls were so curious to know what it meant. '

'Yes, he may play that part; it is called Pom-Pom Pouet--I can't pronounceit right; it's French. But in any case you'll find him fine. All theatrepeople are. The other day I went behind to talk to Bill, and Mr. Rickettstopped to speak to me as he was running to make a change. '

'What's that?' asked Kate. 

'Making a change? Dressing in a hurry. '

'I hope you won't get into trouble; stopping out so late is very dangerousfor a young girl. And I suppose you walk up Piccadilly with him after theplay?'

'Sometimes he takes me out for a drink, ' Hender replied, anxious to avoid adiscussion on the subject, but at the same time tempted to make a littleboast of her independence. 'But you must come to see _Madame Angot_; Ihear it is going to be beautifully put on, and Mr. Lennox is sure to giveyou a ticket. '

'I dare say I should like it very much; I don't have much amusement. '

'Indeed you don't, and what do you get for it? I don't see that Mr. Ede isso kind to you for all the minding and nursing you do; and old Mrs. Ede mayrepeat all day long that she's a Christian woman, and what else she likes, but it doesn't make her anything less disagreeable. I wouldn't live in ahouse with a mother-in-law--and such a mother-in-law!'

'You and Mrs. Ede never hit it off, but I don't know what I should dowithout her; she's the only friend I've got. '

'Half your time you're shut up in a sick-room, and even when he is wellhe's always blowing and wheezing; not the man that would suit me. '

'Ralph can't help being cross sometimes, ' said Kate, and she fell tothinking of the fatigue of last night's watching. She felt it still in herbones, and her eyes ached. As she considered the hardships of her life, hermanner grew more abandoned. 

'If you'll let me have the skirt, ma'am, I'll stitch it up. '

Kate handed her the silk wearily, and was about to speak when Mrs. Edeentered. 

'Mr. Lennox is downstairs, ' she said stiffly. 'I don't know what you'llthink of him. I'm a Christian woman and I don't want to misjudge anyone, but he looks to me like a person of very loose ways. '

Kate flushed a little with surprise, and after a moment she said:

'I suppose I'd better go down and see him. But perhaps he won't like therooms after all. What shall I say to him?'

'Indeed, I can't tell you; I've the dinner to attend to. '

'But, ' said Kate, getting frightened, 'you promised me not to say any moreon this matter. '

'Oh, I say nothing. I'm not mistress here. I told you that I would notinterfere with Mr. Lennox; no more will I. Why should I? What right have I?But I may warn you, and I have warned you. I've said my say, and I'll abideby it. '

These hard words only tended to confuse Kate; all her old doubts returnedto her, and she remained irresolute. Hender, with an expression of contempton her coarse face, watched a moment and then returned to her sewing. Asshe did so Kate moved towards the door. She waited on the threshold, butseeing that her mother-in-law had turned her back, her courage returned toher and she went downstairs. When she caught sight of Mr. Lennox she shrankback frightened, for he was a man of about thirty years of age, withbronzed face, and a shock of frizzly hair, and had it not been for hisclear blue eyes he might have passed for an Italian. 

Leaning his large back against the counter, he examined a tray of ornamentsin black jet. Kate thought he was handsome. He wore a large soft hat, whichwas politely lifted from his head when she entered. The attentionembarrassed her, and somewhat awkwardly she interrupted him to ask if hewould like to see the rooms. The suddenness of the question seemed tosurprise him, and he began talking of their common acquaintance, the agentin advance, and of the difficulty in getting lodgings in the town. As hespoke he stared at her, and he appeared interested in the shop. 

It was a very tiny corner, and, like a Samson, Mr. Lennox looked as if hewould only have to extend his arms to pull the whole place down upon hisshoulders. From the front window round to the kitchen door ran a mahoganycounter; behind it, there were lines of cardboard boxes built up to theceiling; the lower rows were broken and dusty, and spread upon wires werecoarse shirts and a couple of pairs of stays in pink and blue. The windowswere filled with babies' frocks, hoods, and many pairs of little woollenshoes. 

After a few remarks from Mr. Lennox the conversation came to a pause, andKate asked him again if he would like to see the rooms. He said he would bedelighted, and she lifted the flap and let him pass into the house. On theright of the kitchen door there was a small passage, and at the end of itthe staircase began; the first few steps turned spirally, but after that itascended like a huge canister or burrow to the first landing. 

They passed Mrs. Ede gazing scornfully from behind the door of theworkroom, but Mr. Lennox did not seem to notice her, and continued to talkaffably of the difficulty of finding lodgings in the town. 

Even the shabby gentility of the room, which his presence made her realizemore vividly than ever, did not appear to strike him. He examined withinterest the patchwork cloth that covered the round table, lookedcomplacently at the little green sofa with the two chairs to match, andsaid that he thought he would be comfortable. But when Kate noticed howdusty was the pale yellow wall-paper, with its watery roses, she could nothelp feeling ashamed, and she wondered how so fine a gentleman as he couldbe so easily satisfied. Then, plucking up courage, she showed him thelittle mahogany chiffonier which stood next the door, and told him that itwas there she would keep whatever he might order in the way of drinks. Mr. Lennox walked nearer to the small looking-glass engarlanded with greenpaper cut into fringes, twirled a slight moustache many shades lighter thanhis hair, and admired his white teeth. 

The inspection of the drawing-room being over, they went up the secondportion of the canister-like staircase, and after a turn and a stooparrived at the bedroom. 

'I'm sorry you should see the room like this, ' Kate said. 'I thought thatmy mother-in-law had got the room ready for you. I was obliged to sleephere last night; my husband--'

'I assure you I take no objection to the fact of your having slept here, 'he replied gallantly. 

Kate blushed, and an awkward silence followed. 

As Mr. Lennox looked round an expression of dissatisfaction passed over hisface. It was a much poorer place than the drawing-room. Religion andpoverty went there hand-in-hand. A rickety iron bedstead covered withanother patchwork quilt occupied the centre of the room, and there was asmall chest of drawers in white wood placed near the fireplace--thesmallest and narrowest in the world. Upon the black painted chimney-piece alarge red apple made a spot of colour. The carpet was in rags, and the laceblinds were torn, and hung like fishnets. Mr. Lennox apparently was notsatisfied, but when his eyes fell upon Kate it was clear that he thoughtthat so pretty a woman might prove a compensation. But the piousexhortations hanging on the walls seemed to cause him a certain uneasiness. Above the washstand there were two cards bearing the inscriptions, 'Thouart my hope, ' 'Thou art my will'; and these declarations of faith werewritten within a painted garland of lilies and roses. 

'I see that you're religious. '

'I'm afraid not so much as I should be, sir. '

'Well, I don't know so much about that; the place is covered with Bibletexts. '

'Those were put there by my mother-in-law. She is very good. '

'Oh ah, ' said Mr. Lennox, apparently much relieved by the explanation. 'Oldpeople are very pious, generally, aren't they? But this patchwork quilt isyours, I suppose?'

'Yes, sir; I made it myself, ' said Kate, blushing. 

He made several attempts at conversation, but she did not respond, herwhole mind being held up by the thought: 'Is he going to take the rooms, Iwonder?' At last he said:

'I like these apartments very well; and you say that I can have breakfasthere?'

'Oh, you can have anything you order, sir. I, or my mother, will--'

'Very well, then; we may consider the matter settled. I'll tell them tosend down my things from the theatre. '

This seemed to conclude the affair, and they went downstairs. But Mr. Lennox stopped on the next landing, and without any apparent objectre-examined the drawing-room. Speaking like a man who wanted to start aconversation, he manifested interest in everything, and asked questionsconcerning the rattle of the sewing-machine, which could be hearddistinctly; and before she could stop him he opened the door of theworkroom. He wondered at all the brown-paper patterns that were hung on thewalls, and Miss Hender, too eager to inform him, took advantage of theoccasion to glide in a word to the effect that she was going to see himthat evening at the theatre. Kate was amused, but felt it was her duty totake the first opportunity of interrupting the conversation. For someunexplained reason Mr. Lennox seemed loath to go, and it was withdifficulty he was got downstairs. Even then he could not pass the kitchendoor without stopping to speak to the apprentices. He asked them where theyhad found their brown hair and eyes, and attempted to exchange a remarkwith Mrs. Ede. Kate thought the encounter unfortunate, but it passed offbetter than she expected. Mrs. Ede replied that the little girls weregetting on very well, and, apparently satisfied with this answer, Mr. Lennox turned to go. His manner indicated his Bohemian habits, for afterall this waste of time he suddenly remembered that he had an appointment, and would probably miss it by about a quarter of an hour. 

'Will you require any dinner?' asked Kate, following him to the door. 

At the mention of the word 'dinner' he again appeared to forget all abouthis appointment. His face changed its expression, and his manner again grewconfidential. He asked all kinds of questions as to what she could get himto eat, but without ever quite deciding whether he would be able to findtime to eat it. Kate thought she had never seen such a man. At last in afit of desperation, he said:

'I'll have a bit of cold steak. I haven't the time to dine, but if you'llput that out for me ... I like a bit of supper after the theatre--'

Kate wished to ask him what he would like to drink with it, but it wasimpossible to get an answer. He couldn't stop another minute, and, dodgingthe passers-by, he rushed rapidly down the street. She watched until thebig shoulders were lost in the crowd, and asked herself if she liked theman who had just left her; but the answer slipped from her when she triedto define it, and with a sigh she turned into the shop and mechanically setstraight those shirts that hung aslant on the traversing wires. At thatmoment Mrs. Ede came from the kitchen carrying a basin of soup for her sickson. She wanted to know why Kate had stayed so long talking to that man. 

'Talking to him!' Kate repeated, surprised at the words and suspicious ofan implication of vanity. 'If we're going to take his money it's only rightthat we should try to make him comfortable. '

'I doubt if his ten shillings a week will bring us much good, ' Mrs. Edeanswered sourly; and she went upstairs, backbone and principles equallyrigid, leaving Kate to fume at what she termed her mother-in-law'sunreasonableness. 

But Kate had no time to indulge in many angry thoughts, for the tall gauntwoman returned with tears in her eyes to beg pardon. 

'I'm so sorry, dear. Did I speak crossly? I'll say no more about the actor, I'll promise. '

'I don't see why I should be bullied in my own house, ' Kate answered, feeling that she must assert herself. 'Why shouldn't I let my rooms to Mr. Lennox if I like?'

'You're right, ' Mrs. Ede replied--'I've said too much; but don't turnagainst me, Kate. '

'No, no, mother; I don't turn against you. You're the only person I have tolove. '

At these words a look of pleasure passed over the hard, blunt features ofthe peasant woman, and she said with tears in her voice:

'You know I'm a bit hard with my tongue, but that's all; I don't mean it. '

'Well, say no more, mother, ' and Kate went upstairs to her workroom. MissHender, already returned from dinner, was trembling with excitement, andshe waited impatiently for the door to be shut that she might talk. She hadbeen round to see her friend the stage carpenter, and he had told her allabout the actor. Mr. Lennox was the boss; Mr. Hayes, the acting manager, was a nobody, generally pretty well boozed; and Mr. Cox, the London gent, didn't travel. 

Kate listened, only half understanding what was said. 

'And what part does he play in _Madame Angot_?' she asked as she benther head to examine the bead trimmings she was stitching on to the sleeves. 

'The low comedy part, ' said Miss Hender; but seeing that Kate did notunderstand, she hastened to explain that the low comedy parts meant thefunny parts. 

'He's the man who's lost his wig--La--La Ravodée, I think they call it--anda very nice man he is. When I was talking to Bill I could see Mr. Lennoxbetween the wings; he had his arm round Miss Leslie's shoulder. I'm surehe's sweet on her. '

Kate looked up from her work and stared at Miss Hender slowly. Theannouncement that Mr. Lennox was the funny man was disappointing, but tohear that he was a woman's lover turned her against him. 

'All those actors are alike. I see now that my mother-in-law was right. Ishouldn't have let him my rooms. '

'One's always afraid of saying anything to you, ma'am; you twist one'swords so. I'm sure I didn't mean to say there was any harm between him andMiss Leslie. There, perhaps you'll go and tell him that I spoke about him. '

'I'm sure I shall do nothing of the sort. Mr. Lennox has taken my rooms fora week, and there's an end of it. I'm not going to interfere in his privateaffairs. '

The conversation then came to a pause, and all that was heard for a longtime was the clicking of the needle and the rustling of silk. Kate wonderedhow it was that Mr. Lennox was so different off the stage from what he waswhen on; and it seemed to her strange that such a nice gentleman--for shewas obliged to admit that he was that--should choose to play the funnyparts. As for his connection with Miss Leslie, that of course was none ofher business. What did it matter to her? He was in love with whom hepleased. She'd have thought he was a man who would not easily fall in love;but perhaps Miss Leslie was very pretty, and, for the matter of that, theymight be going to be married. Meanwhile Miss Hender regretted having toldKate anything about Mr. Lennox. The best and surest way was to let peoplefind out things for themselves, and having an instinctive repugnance tovirtue--at least, to questions of conscience--she could not abide whiningabout spilt milk. Beyond an occasional reference to their work, the womendid not speak again, until at three o'clock Mrs. Ede announced that dinnerwas ready. There was not much to eat, however, and Kate had littleappetite, and she was glad when the meal was finished. She had then to helpMrs. Ede in getting the rooms ready, and when this was done it was time fortea. But not even this meal did they get in comfort, for Mr. Lennox hadordered a beefsteak for supper; somebody would have to go to fetch it. Mrs. Ede said she would, and Kate went into the shop to attend to the fewcustomers who might call in the course of the evening. The last remarkableevent in this day of events was the departure of Miss Hender, who camedownstairs saying she had only just allowed herself time to hurry to thetheatre; she feared she wouldn't be there before the curtain went up, andshe was sorry Kate wasn't coming, but she would tell her to-morrow allabout Mr. Lennox, and how the piece went. As Kate bade her assistantgood-night a few customers dropped in, all of whom gave a great deal oftrouble. She had to pull down a number of packages to find what was wanted. Then her next-door neighbour, the stationer's wife, called to ask after Mr. Ede and to buy a reel of cotton; and so, in evening chat, the time passed, until the fruiterer's boy came to ask if he should put up the shutters. 

Kate nodded, and remarked to her friend, who had risen to go, what a nice, kind man Mr. Jones was. 

'Yes, indeed, they are very kind people, but their prices are very high. Doyou deal with them?'

Kate replied that she did; and, as the fruiterer's boy put up the shutterswith a series of bangs, she tried to persuade her neighbour to buy acertain gown she had been long talking of. 

'Trimming and everything, it won't cost you more than thirty shillings;you'll want something fresh now that summer's coming on. '

'So I shall. I'll speak to my man about it to-night. I think he'll let mehave it. '

'He won't refuse you if you press him. '

'Well, we shall see, ' and bidding Kate good-night she passed into thestreet. 

The evening was fine, and Kate stood for a long while watching the peoplesurging out of the potteries towards Piccadilly. 'Coming out, ' she said, 'for their evening walk, ' and she was glad that the evening was fine. 'After a long day in the potteries they want some fresh air, ' and then, raising her eyes from the streets, she watched the sunset die out of thewest; purple and yellow streaks still outlined the grey expanse of thehills, making the brick town look like a little toy. An ugly little bricktown--brick of all colours: the pale reddish-brown of decaying brick-yards, the fierce red brick of the newly built warehouses that turns to purple, and above the walls scarlet tiled roofs pointing sharp angles to a fewstars. 

Kate stood watching the fading of the hills into night clouds, interestedin her thoughts vaguely--her thoughts adrift and faded somewhat as thespectacle before her. She wondered if her lodger would be satisfied withher mother's cooking; she hoped so. He was a well-spoken man, but she couldnot hope to change mother. As the image of the lodger floated out of hermind Hender's came into it, and she hoped the girl would not get intotrouble. So many poor girls are in trouble; how many in the crowd passingbefore her door? The difficulty she was in with Mrs. Barnes's dresssuggested itself, and with a shiver and a sigh she shut the street-door andwent upstairs. The day had passed; it was gone like a hundred days beforeit--wearily, perhaps, yet leaving in the mind an impression of somethingdone, of duties honestly accomplished. 

III

'Oh, ma'am!' Hender broke in, 'you can't think how amusing it was lastnight! I never enjoyed myself so much in my life. The place was crammed!Such a house! And Miss Leslie got three encores and a call after each act. '

'And what was Mr. Lennox like?'

'Oh, he only played a small part--one of the policemen. He don't playPom-poucet; I was wrong. It's too heavy a part, and he's too busy lookingafter the piece. But Joe Mortimer was splendid; I nearly died of laughingwhen he fell down and lost his wig in the middle of the stage. And FrankBret looked such a swell, and he got an encore for the song, "Oh, CertainlyI Love Clairette. " And he and Miss Leslie got another for the duet. To-morrow they play the _Cloches_. '

'But now you've seen so much of the theatre I hope you'll be able to do alittle overtime with me. I've promised to let Mrs. Barnes have her dress byto-morrow morning. '

'I'm afraid I shan't be able to stay after six o'clock. '

'But surely if they're doing the same play you don't want to see it again?'

'Well 'tisn't exactly that, but--well, I prefer to tell you the truth;'tisn't the piece I go to the theatre for; I'm one of the dressers, and Iget twelve shillings a week, and I can't afford to lose it. But there's nouse in telling Mrs. Ede, she'd only make a bother. '

'How do you mean, dressing?'

'The ladies of the theatre must have someone to dress them, and I lookafter the principals, Miss Leslie and Miss Beaumont, that's all. '

'And how long have you been doing that?'

'Why, about a month now. Bill got me the place. '

This conversation had broken in upon a silence of nearly half an hour; withbent heads and clicking needles, Kate and Hender had been workingassiduously at Mrs. Barnes's skirt. 

Having a great deal of _passementerie_ ornamentation to sew on to theheading of the flounces, and much fringe to arrange round the edge of thedrapery, Kate looked forward to a heavy day. She had expected Miss Henderan hour earlier, and she had not turned up until after nine. An assistantwhose time was so occupied that she couldn't give an extra hour when youwere in a difficulty was of very little use; and it might be as well tolook out for somebody more suitable. Besides, all this talk about theatresand actors was very wrong; there could be little doubt that the girl waslosing her character, and to have her coming about the house would give ita bad name. Such were Kate's reflections as she handled the rustling silkand folded it into large plaitings. Now and again she tried to come to adecision, but she was not sincere with herself. She knew she liked thegirl, and Hender's conversation amused her: to send her away meant tosurrender herself completely to her mother-in-law's stern kindness and herhusband's irritability. 

Hender was the window through which Kate viewed the bustle and animation oflife, and even now, annoyed as she was that she would not be able to getthe dress done in time, she could not refrain from listening to the girl'schatter. There was about Miss Hender that strange charm which materialnatures possess even when they offend. Being of the flesh, we mustsympathize with it, and the amiability of Hender's spirits made a greatdeal pass that would have otherwise appeared wicked. She could tell withoutappearing too rude, how Mr. Wentworth, the lessee, was gone on a certainlady in the new company, and would give her anything if she would chuck upher engagement and come and live with him. When Hender told these stories, Kate, fearing that Mrs. Ede might have overheard, looked anxiously at thedoor, and under the influence of the emotion, it interested her to warn herassistant of the perils of frequenting bad company. But as Kate lecturedshe could not help wondering how it was that her life passed by so wearily. Was she never going to do anything else but work? she often asked herself, and then reproached herself for the regret that had risen unwittingly up inher mind that life was not all pleasure. It certainly was not, 'but perhapsit is better, ' she said to herself, 'that we have to get our living, for meat least'--her thoughts broke off sharply, and she passed out of thepresent into a long past time. 

Kate had never known her father; her mother, an earnest believer in Wesley, was a hard-working woman who made a pound a week by painting on china. Thiswas sufficient for their wants, and Mrs. Howell's only fears were that shemight lose her health and die before her time, leaving her daughter inwant. To avoid this fate she worked early and late at the factory, and Katewas left in the charge of the landlady, a childless old woman who, sittingby the fire, used to tell stories of her deceptions and misfortunes inlife, thereby intoxicating the little girl's brain with sentiment. Themother's influence was a sort of make-weight; Mrs. Howell was a deeplyreligious woman, and Kate was often moved to trace back a large part ofherself to Bible-readings and extemporary prayers offered up by the bedsidein the evening. 

Her school-days were unimportant. She learnt to read and write and to dosums; that was all. Kate grew, softly and mystically as a dark damask rose, into a pretty woman without conversions or passions: for notwithstandingher early training, religion had never taken a very firm hold upon her, anddespite the fact that she married into a family very similar to her own, although her mother-in-law was almost a counterpart of her real mother--alittle harder and more resolute, but as God-fearing and as kind--Kate hadcaught no blast of religious fervour; religion taught her nothing, inspiredher with nothing, could influence her in little. She was not strong norgreat, nor was she conscious of any deep feeling that if she actedotherwise than she did she would be living an unworthy life. She was merelygood because she was a kind-hearted woman, without bad impulses, andadmirably suited to the life she was leading. 

But in this commonplace inactivity of mind there was one strongcharacteristic, one bit of colour in all these grey tints: Kate was dreamy, not to say imaginative. When she was a mere child she loved fairies, andtook a vivid interest in goblins; and when afterwards she discarded thesestories for others, it was not because it shocked her logical sense to readof a beanstalk a hundred feet high, but for a tenderer reason: Jack did notfind a beautiful lady to love him. She could not help feeling disappointed, and when the _London Journal_ came for the first time across her way, with the story of a broken heart, her own heart melted with sympathy; themore sentimental and unnatural the romance, the more it fevered andenraptured her. She loved to read of singular subterranean combats, of highcastles, prisoners, hair-breadth escapes; and her sympathies were alwayswith the fugitives. It was also very delightful to hear of lovers who weretrue to each other in spite of a dozen wicked uncles, of women who weretempted until their hearts died within them, and who years after threw uptheir hands and said, 'Thank God that I had the courage to resist!'

The second period of her sentimental education was when she passed from theauthors who deal exclusively with knights, princesses, and kings to thosewho interest themselves in the love fortunes of doctors and curates. 

Amid these there was one story that interested her in particular, andcaused her deeper emotions than the others. It concerned a beautiful youngwoman with a lovely oval face, who was married to a very tiresome countrydoctor. This lady was in the habit of reading Byron and Shelley in a rich, sweet-scented meadow, down by the river, which flowed dreamily throughsmiling pasture-lands adorned by spreading trees. But this meadow belongedto a squire, a young man with grand, broad shoulders, who day after dayused to watch these readings by the river without venturing to address aword to the fair trespasser. One day, however, he was startled by a shriek:in her poetical dreamings the lady had slipped into the water. A momentsufficed to tear off his coat, and as he swam like a water-dog he had nodifficulty in rescuing her. Of course after this adventure he had to calland inquire, and from henceforth his visits grew more and more frequent, and by a strange coincidence, he used to come riding up to the hall-doorwhen the husband was away curing the ills of the country-folk. Hours werepassed under the trees by the river, he pleading his cause, and sherefusing to leave poor Arthur, till at last the squire gave up the pursuitand went to foreign parts, where he waited thirty years, until he heardArthur was dead. And then he came back with a light heart to his first andonly love, who had never ceased to think of him, and lived with her happilyfor ever afterwards. The grotesque mixture of prose and poetry, bothequally false, used to enchant Kate, and she always fancied that had shebeen the heroine of the book she would have acted in the same way. 

Kate's taste for novel-reading distressed Mrs. Howell; she thought it 'asinful waste of time, not to speak of the way it turned people's heads fromGod'; and when one day she found Kate's scrap-book, made up of poems cutfrom the _Family Herald_, she began to despair of her daughter'ssalvation. The answer Kate made to her mother's reproaches was: 'Mother, I've been sewing all day; I can't see what harm it can be to read a littlebefore I go to bed. Nobody is required to be always saying their prayers. '

The next two years passed away unperceived by either mother or daughter, and then an event occurred of some importance. Their neighbours at thecorner of the street got into difficulties, and were eventually sold outand their places taken by strangers, who changed the oil-shop into adrapery business. The new arrivals aroused the keenest interest, and Mrs. Howell and her daughter called to see what they were like, as did everybodyelse. The acquaintance thus formed was renewed at church, and much to theirsurprise and pleasure, they discovered that they were of the same religiouspersuasion. 

Henceforth the Howells and Edes saw a great deal of each other, and everySunday after church the mothers walked home together and the young peoplefollowed behind. Ralph spoke of his ill-health, and Kate pitied him, andwhen he complimented her on her beautiful hair she blushed with pleasure. For much as she had revelled in fictitious sentiment, she had somehow neverthought of seeking it in nature, and how that she had found a lover, thecritical sense was not strong enough in her to lead her to compare realitywith imagination. She accepted Ralph as unsuspectingly as she hithertoaccepted the tawdry poetry of her favourite fiction. And her nature notbeing a passionate one, she was able to do this without any apparenttransition of sentiment. She pitied him, hoped she could be of use innursing him, and felt flattered at the idea of being mistress of a shop. 

The mothers were delighted, and spoke of the coincidence of their religionsand the admirable addition dressmaking would be to the drapery business. Oflove, small mention was made. The bridegroom spoke of his prospects ofimproving the business, the bride listened, interested for the while in hisenthusiasm; orders came in, and Kate was soon transformed into ahard-working woman. 

This change of character passed unperceived by all but Mrs. Howell, whodied wondering how it came about. Kate herself did not know; she fanciedthat it was fully accounted for by the fact that she had no time--'no timefor reading now'--which was no more than the truth; but she did notcomplain; she accepted her husband's kisses as she did the toil he imposedon her--meekly, unaffectedly, as a matter of course, as if she always knewthat the romances which used to fascinate her were merely idle dreams, having no bearing upon the daily life of human beings--things fit to amusea young girl's fancies, and to be thrown aside when the realities of lifewere entered upon. The only analogy between the past and present was anample submission to authority and an indifference to the world and itsinterest. Even the fact of being without children did not seem to concernher, and when her mother-in-law regretted it she merely smiled languidly, or said, 'We are very well as we are. ' Of the world and the flesh she livedalmost in ignorance, suspecting their existence only through Miss Hender. Hender was attracted by her employer's kindness and softness of manner, andKate by her assistant's strength of will. For some months past a friendshiphad been growing up between the two women, but if Kate had known forcertain that Hender was living a life of sin with the stage carpenter shemight not have allowed her into the house. But the possibility of sinattached her to the girl in the sense that it forced her to think of hercontinually. And then there was a certain air of bravado in Miss Hender'sfreckled face that Kate admired. She instituted comparisons between herselfand the assistant, and she came to the conclusion that she preferred thatfair, blonde complexion to her own clear olive skin; and the sparkle of thered frizzy hair put her out of humour with the thick, wavy blue tresseswhich encircled her small temples like a piece of black velvet. 

As she continued her sewing she reconsidered the question of Hender'sdismissal, but only to perceive more and more clearly the blank it wouldoccasion in her life. And besides her personal feeling there was the factto consider that to satisfy her customers she must have an assistant whocould be depended upon. And she did not know where she would find anotherwho would turn out work equal to Hender's. At last Kate said:

'I don't know what I shall do; I promised the dress by to-morrow morning. '

'I think we'll be able to finish it to-day, ' Hender answered. 'I'll workhard at it all the afternoon; a lot can be done between this and seveno'clock. '

'Oh, I don't know, ' replied Kate dolefully; 'these leaves take such a timeto sew on; and then there's all the festooning. '

'I think it can be managed, but we must stick at it. '

On this expression of good-will the conversation ceased for the time being, and the clicking of needles and the buzzing of flies about the brown-paperpatterns were all that was heard until twelve o'clock, when Mrs. Ede burstinto the room. 

'I knew what it would be, ' she said, shutting the door after her. 

'What is it?' said Kate, looking up frightened. 

'Well, I offered to do him a chop or some fried eggs, but he says he musthave an omelette. Did you ever hear of such a thing? I told him I didn'tknow how to make one, but he said that I was to ask you if you could sparethe time. '

'I'll make him an omelette, ' said Kate, rising. 'Have you got the eggs?'

'Yes. The trouble that man gives us! What with his bath in the morning, andtwo pairs of boots to be cleaned, and the clothes that have to be brushed, I've done nothing but attend to him since ten o'clock; and what hours tokeep!--it is now past eleven. '

'What's the use of grumbling? You know the work must be done, and I can'tbe in two places at once. You promised me you wouldn't say anything moreabout it, but would attend to him just the same as any other lodger. '

'I can't do more than I'm doing; I haven't done anything all the morningbut run upstairs, ' said Mrs. Ede very crossly; 'and I wish you'd take thelittle girls out of the kitchen; I can't look after them, and they donothing but look out of the window. '

'Very well, I'll have them up here; they can sit on the sofa. We can managewith them now that we've finished the cutting out. '

Hender made no reply to this speech, which was addressed to her. She hatedhaving the little girls up in the workroom, and Kate knew it. 

Kate did not take long to make Mr. Lennox's omelette. There was a brightfire in the kitchen, the muffins were toasted, and the tea was made. 

'This is a very small breakfast, ' she said as she put the plates and disheson the tray. 'Didn't he order anything else?'

'He spoke about some fried bacon, but I'll attend to that; you take theother things up to him. '

As Kate passed with the tray in her hand she reproved the little girls fortheir idleness and told them to come upstairs, but it was not until shemotioned them into the workroom that she realized that she was going intoMr. Lennox's room. 

After a slight pause she turned the handle of the door and entered. Mr. Lennox was lying very negligently in the armchair, wrapped in hisdressing-gown. 'Oh, I beg your pardon, sir; I didn't know--' she said, starting back. Then, blushing for shame at her own silliness in takingnotice of such things, she laid the breakfast things on the table. 

Mr. Lennox thanked her, and without seeming to notice her discomfiture hewrapped himself up more closely, drew his chair forward, and, smacking hislips, took the cover off the dish. 'Oh, very nice indeed, ' he said, 'butI'm afraid I've given you a great deal of trouble; the old lady said youwere very, very busy. '

'I've to finish a dress to-day, sir, and my assistant--'

Here Kate stopped, remembering that if Mr. Lennox had renewed hisacquaintance with Hender at the theatre, any allusion to her would giverise to further conversation. 'Oh yes, I know Miss Hender; she's one of ourdressers; she looks after our two leading ladies, Miss Leslie and MissBeaumont. But I don't see the bacon here. '

'Mrs. Ede is cooking it; she'll bring it up in a minute or two, ' Kateanswered, edging towards the door. 

'We've nothing to do with the dressers, ' said Mr. Lennox, speaking rapidly, so as to detain his landlady; 'but if you're as pressed with your work asyou tell me, I dare say, by speaking to the lessee, I might manage to getMiss Hender off for this one evening. '

'Thank you, sir; I'm sure it's very kind of you, but I shall be able tomanage without that. '

The lodger spoke with such an obvious desire to oblige that Kate could notchoose but like him, and it made her wish all the more that he would coverup his big, bare neck. 

''Pon my word, this is a capital omelette, ' he said, licking his lips, 'There is nothing I like so much as a good omelette, I was very lucky tocome here, ' he added, glancing at Kate's waist, which was slim even in herold blue striped dress. 

'It's very kind of you to say so, sir, ' she said, and a glow of rose-colourflushed the dark complexion. There was something very human in this bigman, and Kate did not know whether his animalism irritated or pleased her. 

'You weren't at the theatre last night?' he said, forcing a huge piece ofdeeply buttered, spongy French roll into his mouth. 

'No, sir, I wasn't there; I rarely go to the theatre. '

'Ah! I'm sorry. How's that? We had a tremendous house. I never saw thepiece go better. If this business keeps up to the end of the week I thinkwe shall try to get another date. '

Kate did not know what 'another date' meant, but Hender would be able totell her. 

'You've only to tell me when you want to see the piece, and I'll give youplaces. Would you like to come to-night?'

'Not to-night, thank you, sir. I shall be busy all the evening, and myhusband is not very well. '

The conversation then came to an irritating pause. Mr. Lennox had scrapedup the last fragments of the omelette, and poured himself out another cupof tea, when Mrs. Ede appeared with the broiled bacon. On seeing Katetalking to Mr. Lennox, she at once assumed an air of mingled surprise andregret. 

Kate noticed this, but Mr. Lennox had no eyes for anything but the bacon, which he heaped on his plate and devoured voraciously. It pleased Kate tosee him enjoy his breakfast, but while she was admiring him Mrs. Ede saidas she moved towards the door, 'Can I do anything for you, sir?'

'Well, no, ' replied Mr. Lennox indifferently; but seeing that Kate wasgoing too he swallowed a mouthful of tea hastily and said, 'I was justtelling the lady here that we had a tremendous success last night, and thatshe ought to come and see the piece. I think she said she had no one to gowith. You should take her. I'm sure you will like the _Cloches_. '

Mrs. Ede looked indignant, but after a moment she recovered herself, andsaid severely and emphatically: 'Thank you, sir, but I'm a Christian woman. No offence, sir, but I don't think such things are right. '

'Ah! don't you, indeed?' replied the mummer, looking at her in blankastonishment. But the expression of his face soon changed, and as if strucksuddenly by some painful remembrance, he said, 'You're a Dissenter orsomething of that kind, I suppose. We lost a lot of money at Bradfordthrough people of your persuasion; they jolly well preached against us. '

Mrs. Ede did not answer, and after a few brief apologetic phrases to theeffect that it would not do for us all to think alike, Kate withdrew to herwork-room, asking herself if Mr. Lennox would take offence and leave them. Hender suspected that something had occurred, and was curious to hear whatit was; but there sat those idiotic little girls, and of course it wouldn'tdo to speak before them. Once she hinted that she had heard that Mr. Lennox, though a very nice man, was a bit quick-tempered, a query that Kateanswered evasively, saying that it was difficult to know what Mr. Lennoxwas like. Words were an effort to her, and she could not detach a singleprecise thought from the leaden-coloured dreams which hung about her. 

Click, click, went the needles all day long, and Kate wondered what a womanwho lived in a thirty-pound house could want with a ten-pound dress. Butthat was no affair of hers, and as it was most important she should notdisappoint her, Kate kept Hender to dinner; and as compensation for thepress of work, she sent round to the public for three extra half-pints. They needed a drink, for the warmth of the day was intense. Along the redtiles of the houses, amid the brick courtyards, the sun's rays created anoven-like atmosphere. From the high wall opposite the dead glare pouredinto the little front kitchen through the muslin blinds, burning the pot ofgreen-stuff, and falling in large spots upon the tiled floor; and overcomeby the heat, the two women lay back on the little red calico-covered sofa, languidly sipping their beer, and thinking vaguely of when they would haveto begin work again. Hender lolled with her legs stretched out; Kate restedher head upon her hand wearily; Mrs. Ede sat straight, apparently unheedingthe sunlight which fell across the plaid shawl that she wore winter andsummer. She drank her beer in quick gulps, as if even the time forswallowing was rigidly portioned out. The others watched her, knowing thatwhen her pewter was empty she would turn them out of the kitchen. In a fewmoments she said, 'I think, Kate, that if you're in a hurry you'd betterget on with your dress. I have to see to Mr. Lennox's dinner, and I can'thave you a-hanging about. As it is, I don't know how I'm to get the workdone. There's a leg of mutton to be roasted, and a pudding to be made, andall by four o'clock. '

Kate calmed the old woman with a few words, and taking Ralph's dinner fromher, carried it upstairs. She found her husband better, and, setting thetray on the edge of the bed, she answered the questions he put to herconcerning the actor briefly; then begged of him to excuse her, as sheheard voices in the shop. Mr. Lennox had come in bringing two men with him, Joe Mortimer, the low comedian, and young Montgomery, the conductor; and itbecame difficult to prevent Hender from listening at the doors, and almostuseless to remind her of the fact that there were children present, soexcited did she become when she spoke of Bret's love affairs. 

But at six o'clock she put on her hat, and there was no dissuading her;Mrs. Barnes must wait for her dress. There was still much to be done, andwhen Mrs. Ede called from the kitchen that tea was ready, Kate did not atfirst answer, and when at last she descended she remained only long enoughto eat a piece of bread and butter. Her head was filled with graveforebodings, that gradually drifted and concentrated into one fixedidea--not to disappoint Mrs. Barnes. Once quite suddenly, she was startledby an idea which flashed across her mind, and stopping in the middle of a'leaf, ' she considered the question that had propounded itself. Lodgersoften make love to their landladies; what would she do if Mr. Lennox madelove to her? Such a thing might occur. An expression of annoyancecontracted her face, and she resumed her sewing. The hours passed slowlyand oppressively. It was now ten o'clock, and the tail had still to bebound with braid, and the side strings to be sewn in. She had no tape byher, and thought of putting off these finishing touches till the morning, but plucking up her courage, she determined to go down and fetch from theshop what was required. The walk did her good, but it was hard to sit downto work again; and the next few minutes seemed to her interminable: but atlast the final stitch was given, the thread bitten off, and the dress heldup in triumph. She looked at it for a moment with a feeling of pride, whichsoon faded into a sensation of indifference. 

All the same her day's labour was over; she was now free. But the thoughtcarried a bitterness: she remembered that there was no place for her to goto but her sick husband's room. Yet she had been looking forward to havingat least one night's rest, and it exasperated her to think that there wasnothing for her but a hard pallet in the back room, and the certainty ofbeing awakened several times to attend to Ralph. She asked herselfpassionately if she was always going to remain a slave and a drudge?Hender's words came back to her with a strange distinctness, and she sawthat she knew nothing of pleasure, or even of happiness; and in a verysimple way she wondered what were really the ends of life. If she were goodand religious like her mother or her mother-in-law--But somehow she couldnever feel as they did. Heaven seemed so far away. Of course it was aconsolation to think there was a happier and better world;still--still--Not being able to pursue the thread any further, she stopped, puzzled, and a few moments after she was thinking of the lady who used toread Byron and Shelley, and who resisted her lover's entreaties so bravely. Every part of the forgotten story came back to her. She realized the placethey used to dream in. She could see them watching with ardent eyes thepaling of the distant sky as they listened to the humming of insects, breathing the honied odour of the flowers; she saw her leaning on his armcaressingly, whilst pensively she tore with the other hand the leaves asthey passed up the long terrace. 

Then as the vision became more personal and she identified herself with theheroine of the book, she thought of the wealth of love she had to give, andit seemed to her unutterably sad that it should bloom like a rose in adesert unknown and unappreciated. 

This was the last flight of her dream. The frail wings of her imaginationcould sustain her no longer, and too weary to care for or even to think ofanything, she went upstairs, to find Mrs. Ede painting her son's chest andback with iodine. He had a bad attack, which was beginning to subside. Hisface was haggard, his eyes turgid, and the two women talked together. Mrs. Ede was indignant, and told of all her trouble with the dinner. She had tofetch cigars and drinks. Kate listened, watching her husband all the while. He began to get a little better, and Mrs. Ede took advantage of theoccasion to suggest that it was time for evening prayers. 

In days when speech was possible, it was Ralph who read the customarychapter of the Bible and led the way with the Lord's Prayer; but when wordswere forbidden to him his mother supplied his place. The tall figure kneltupright. It was not a movement of cringing humility, but of stalwartbelief, and as she handed her the Bible, Kate could not help thinking thatthere was pride in her mother-in-law's very knees. 

The old woman turned over the leaves for a few seconds in silence; then, having determined on a chapter, she began to read. But she had not gotbeyond a few sentences before she was interrupted by the sound of laughingvoices and stamping feet. 

She stopped reading, and looked from Kate to her husband. He was at themoment searching for his pocket-handkerchief. Kate rose to assist him, andMrs. Ede said:

'It's shameful! it's disgraceful!'

'It's only Mr. Lennox coming in. '

'Only Mr. Lennox!' At that moment she was interrupted by the lighterlaughter of female voices; she paused to listen, and then, shutting thebook fiercely, she said, 'From the first I was against letting our rooms toa mummer; but I didn't think I should live to see my son's house turnedinto a night house. I shall not stop here. '

'Not stop here--eh, eh? We must tell--tell him that it can't be allowed, 'Ralph wheezed. 

'And I should like to know who these women are he has dared to bring into--People he has met in Piccadilly, I suppose!'

'Oh no!' interrupted Kate, 'I'm sure that they are the ladies of thetheatre. '

'And where's the difference?' Mrs. Ede asked fiercely. Sectarian hatred ofworldly amusement flamed in her eyes, and made common cause with theordinary prejudice of the British landlady. Mr. Ede shared his mother'sopinions, but as he was then suffering from a splitting headache, his chiefdesire was that she should lower the tone of her voice. 

'For goodness' sake don't speak so loud!' he said plaintively. 'Of coursehe mustn't bring women into the house; but he had better be told so. Kate, go down and tell him that these ladies must leave. '

Kate stood aghast at hearing her fate thus determined, and she askedherself how she was to tell Mr. Lennox that he must put his friends out ofdoors. She hesitated, and during a long silence all three listened. A greatguffaw, a woman's shriek, a peal of laughter, and then a clinking ofglasses was heard. Even Kate's face told that she thought it very improper, and Mrs. Ede said with a theatrical air of suppressed passion:

'Very well; I suppose that is all that can be done at present. '

Feeling very helpless, Kate murmured, 'I don't see how I'm to tell them togo. Hadn't we better put it off until morning?'

'Till morning!' said Mr. Ede, trying to button his dirty nightshirt acrosshis hairy chest. 'I'm not going to listen to that noise all night. Kate, you g-go and tur-r-rn them out. '

'I'm sorry, dearie, ' said Mrs. Ede, seeing her daughter-in-law's distress. 'I'll soon send them away. '

'Oh no! I'd rather go myself, ' said Kate. 

'Very well, dear. I only thought you might not like to go down among a lotof rough people. '

The noise downstairs was in the meanwhile increasing, and Ralph grew asangry as his asthma would allow him. 'They're just killing me with theirnoise. Go down at once and tell them they must leave the house instantly. If you don't I'll go myself. '

Mrs. Ede made a movement towards the door, but Kate stopped her, saying:

'I'll go; it's my place. ' As she descended the stairs she heard a man'svoice screaming above the general hubbub:

'I'll tell you what; if Miss Beaumont doesn't wait for my beat anothernight, I'll insist on a rehearsal being called. She took the concertedmusic in the finale of the first act two whole bars before her time. It wasdamned awful. I nearly broke my stick trying to stop her. '

'Quite true; I never saw the piece go so badly. Bret was "fluffing" allover the shop. '

Kate listened to these fragments of conversation, asked herself how she wasto walk in upon those people and tell them that they must keep quiet. 

'And the way Beaumont tries to spoon with Dick. She nearly missed her cueonce with sneaking after him in the wings. '

A peal of laughter followed. This sally determined Kate to act; and withouthaving made up her mind what to say, she turned the handle of the door andwalked into the room. 

The three gas-burners were blazing, wine-glasses were on the table, and Mr. Lennox stood twisting a corkscrew into a bottle which he held between hisfat thighs. On the little green sofa Miss Lucy Leslie lay back playing withher bonnet-strings. Her legs were crossed, and a lifted skirt showed a bitof striped stocking. Next her, with his spare legs sprawled over the arm ofthe easy-chair, was Mr. Montgomery, the thinnest being possible to imagine, in grey clothes. His nose was enormous, and he pushed up his glasses whenKate came into the room with a movement of the left hand that was clearlyhabitual. On the other side of the round table sat Mr. Joe Mortimer, theheavy lead, the celebrated miser in the _Cloches_. A tall girlstanding behind him playfully twisted his back hair. He addressed paternaladmonitions to her from time to time in an artificially cracked voice. 

'Please, sir, ' said Kate pleadingly, 'I'm very sorry, but we cannot keepopen house after eleven o'clock. '

A deep silence followed this announcement. Miss Leslie looked up at Katecuriously. Mr. Lennox stopped twisting the corkscrew into the bottle, andthe low comedian, seizing the opportunity, murmured in his mechanical voiceto the girl behind him, 'Open house! Of course, she's quite right. I knewthere was a draught somewhere; I felt my hair blowing about. '

Everybody laughed, and the merriment still contributed to discountenancethe workwoman. 

'Will he never speak and let me go?' she asked herself. At last he didspeak, and his words fell upon her like blows. 

'I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Ede, ' he said in a loud, commandingvoice. 'I made no agreement with you that I wasn't to bring friends homewith me in the evening. Had I known that I was taking lodgings in a churchI wouldn't have come. '

She felt dreadfully humiliated, and nothing was really present in her mindbut a desire to conciliate Mr. Lennox. 

'It isn't my fault, sir. I really don't mind; but my mother-in-law and myhusband won't have people coming into the house after ten o'clock. '

Mr. Lennox's face showed that his heart had softened towards her, and whenshe mentioned that her husband was lying ill in bed, turning round to hiscompany, he said:

'I think we are making too much noise; we shouldn't like it ourselves if--'

But just at that moment, when all was about to end pleasantly, Mrs. Ede washeard at the top of the stairs. 

'I'm a Christian woman, and will not remain in a house where drinking andwomen--'

This speech changed everything. Mr. Lennox's eyes flashed passion, and hemade a movement as if he were going to shout an answer back to Mrs. Ede, but checking himself, he said, addressing Kate, 'I beg that you leave myrooms, ma'am. You can give me warning in the morning if you like, orrather, I'll give it to you; but for this evening, at least, the place ismine, and I shall do what I like. ' On that he advanced towards the door andthrew it open. 

Tears stood in her eyes. She looked sorrowfully at Mr. Lennox. He noticedthe pitiful, appealing glance, but was too angry to understand. The lookwas her whole soul. She did not see Miss Leslie sneering, nor Mr. Montgomery's grinning face. She saw nothing but Mr. Lennox, and, stunned bythe thought of his leaving them, she followed her mother-in-law upstairs. The old woman scolded and rowed. To have that lot of men and women smokingand drinking after eleven o'clock in the house was not to be thought of, and she tried to force her son to say that the police must be sent for. Butit was impossible to get an answer from him: the excitement and effort ofspeaking had rendered him speechless, and holding his moppy black hair withboth hands, he wheezed in deep organ tones. Kate looked at him blankly, andlonged for some place out of hearing of his breath and out of the smell ofthe medicine-bottles. His mother was now insisting on his taking a coupleof pills, and called upon Kate to find the box. The sharp, sickly odour ofthe aloes was abominable, and with her stomach turning, she watched herhusband trying vainly to swallow the dose with the aid of a glass of water. Stop in this room! No, that she couldn't do! It would poison her. Shewanted sleep and fresh air. Where could she get them? The mummer was in thespare room; but he would be gone to-morrow, and she would be left alone. The thought startled her, though she soon forgot it in her longing to getout of her husband's sight. Every moment this desire grew stronger, and atlast she said:

'I cannot stay here; another night would kill me. Will you let me have yourroom?'

'Certainly I will, my dear, ' replied the old woman, astonished not so muchat the request, but at the vehemence of the emphasis laid upon the words. 'You're looking dreadfully worn out, my dear; I'll see to my boy. '

As soon as her request had been granted, Kate hesitated as if she fearedshe was doing wrong, and she looked at her husband, wondering if he wouldcall her back. 

But he took no heed; his attention was too entirely occupied by his breathto think either of her or of the necessity of sending for the police, andhe waved his mother away when she attempted to speak to him. 

'Are those men going to stop there all night?' Mrs. Ede asked. 

'Oh, I really don't know; I'm too tired to bother about it any more, 'replied Kate petulantly. 'It's all your fault--you're to blame foreverything; you've no right to interfere with the lodgers in my house. '

Mrs. Ede raised her arms as she sought for words, but Kate walked out ofthe room without giving her time to answer. Suddenly a voice cried in ahigh key:

'Who do you take me for, Dick? I wasn't born yesterday. A devilish prettywoman, if you ask me. What hair!--like velvet!'

Kate stopped. 'Black hair, ' she said to herself--'they must be talking ofme, ' and she listened intently. 

The remark, however, did not appear to have been particularly well-timed, for after a long silence, a woman's voice said:

'Well, I don't know whether he liked her, and I don't care, but what I'mnot going to do is to wait here listening to you all cracking up alandlady's good looks. I'm off. '

A scuffle then seemed to be taking place; half a dozen voices spoketogether, and in terror of her life Kate flew across the workroom to Mrs. Ede's bed. 

The door of the sitting-room was flung open and cajoling and protestingwords echoed along the passage up and down the staircase. It wasdisgraceful, and Kate expected every minute to hear her mother-in-law'svoice mingling in the fray; but peace was restored, and for at least anhour she listened to sounds of laughing voices mingling with the clinkingof glasses. At last Dick wished his friends good-night, and Kate lay underthe sheets and listened. Something was going to happen. 'He thinks me apretty woman; she is jealous, ' were phrases that rang without ceasing inher ears. Then, hearing his door open, she fancied he was coming to seekher, and in consternation buried herself under the bedclothes, leaving onlyher black hair over the pillows to show where she had disappeared. But theduplicate drop of a pair of boots was conclusive, and assuring herself thathe would not venture on such a liberty, she strove to compose herself tosleep. 

IV

Next day, about eleven o'clock, Kate walked up Market Street with Mrs. Barnes's dress, meditating on the letter she had received. A very seriousmatter this angry letter was to Kate, and she thought of what she could sayto satisfy her customer. Her anxiety of mind caused her to walk faster thanshe was aware of, up the hill towards the square of sky where thepassers-by seemed like figures on the top of a monument. At the top of thehill she would turn to the left and descend towards the little quasi-villaresidences which form the suburbs of Northwood. Ten minutes later Kateapproached Mrs. Barnes's door hot and out of breath, her plans matured, determined, if the worst came to the worst, to let the dress go at areduction. Her present difficulty was so great that she forgot othertroubles, and it was not until she had received her money that sheremembered Mr. Lennox. He was going. Her rooms would be empty again. Shewas sorry he was going, and at the top of Market Street she stood at gaze, surprised by the view, though she had never seen any other. A long blackvalley lay between her and the dim hills far away, miles and miles inlength, with tanks of water glittering like blades of steel, and giganticsmoke clouds rolling over the stems of a thousand factory chimneys. She hadnot come up this hillside at the top of Market Street for a long while; formany years she had not stood there and gazed at the view, not since she wasa little girl, and the memories that she cherished in her workroom betweenHanley and the Wever Hills were quite different from the scene she was nowlooking upon. She saw the valley with different eyes: she saw it now with awoman's eyes; before she had seen it with a child's eyes. She rememberedthe ruined collieries and the black cinder-heaps protruding through thehillside on which she was now standing. In childhood, these ruins wereconvenient places to play hide-and-seek in. But now they seemed to convey ameaning to her mind, a meaning that was not very clear, that perplexed her, that she tried to put aside and yet could not. At her left, some fifty feetbelow, running in the shape of a fan, round a belt of green, were the roofsof Northwood--black brick unrelieved except by the yellow chimney-pots, specks of colour upon a line of soft cotton-like clouds melting into grey, the grey passing into blue, and the blue spaces widening. 'It will be a hotday, ' she said to herself, and fell to thinking that a hot day was hotteron this hillside than elsewhere. At every moment the light grew more andmore intense, till a distant church spire faded almost out of sight, andshe was glad she had come up here to admire the view from the top of MarketStreet. Southwark, on the right, as black as Northwood, toppled into thevalley in irregular lines, the jaded houses seeming in Kate's fancy likecart-loads of gigantic pill-boxes cast in a hurry from the counter alongthe floor. It amused her to stand gazing, contrasting the reality with hermemories. It seemed to her that Southwark had never before been so plain tothe eye. She could follow the lines of the pavement and almost distinguishthe men from the women passing. A hansom appeared and disappeared, thewhite horse seen now against the green blinds of a semi-detached villa andshown a moment after against the yellow rotundities of a group of potteryovens. 

The sun was now rapidly approaching the meridian, and in the vibratinglight the wheels of the most distant collieries could almost be counted, and the stems of the far-off factory chimneys appeared like tiny fingers. 

Kate saw with the eyes and heard with the ears of her youth, and the pastbecame as clear as the landscape before her. She remembered the days whenshe came to read on this hillside. The titles of the books rose up in hermind, and she could recall the sorrow she felt for the heroes and heroines. It seemed to her strange that that time was so long past and she wonderedwhy she had forgotten it. Now it all seemed so near to her that she feltlike one only just awakened from a dream. And these memories made herhappy. She took pleasure in recalling every little event--an excursion shemade when she was quite a little girl to the ruined colliery, and later on, a conversation with a chance acquaintance, a young man who had stopped tospeak to her. 

At the bottom of the valley, right before her eyes, the white gables ofBucknell Rectory, hidden amid masses of trees, glittered now and then in anentangled beam that flickered between chimneys, across brick-banked squaresof water darkened by brick walls. 

Behind Bucknell were more desolate plains full of pits, brick, and smoke;and beyond Bucknell an endless tide of hills rolled upwards and onwards. 

The American tariff had not yet come into operation, and every wheel wasturning, every oven baking; and through a drifting veil of smoke thesloping sides of the hills with all their fields could be seen sleepingunder great shadows, or basking in the light. A deluge of rays fell uponthem, defining every angle of Watley Rocks and floating over the grasslandsof Standon, all shape becoming lost in a huge embrasure filled with thealmost imperceptible outlines of the Wever Hills. 

And these vast slopes which formed the background of every street were thetheatre of all Kate's travels before life's struggles began. It amused herto remember that when she played about the black cinders of the hillsidesshe used to stop to watch the sunlight flash along the far-away greenspaces, and in her thoughts connected them with the marvels she read of inher books of fairy-tales. Beyond these wonderful hills were the palaces ofthe kings and queens who would wave their wands and vanish! A few yearslater it was among or beyond those slopes that the lovers with whom shesympathized in the pages of her novels lived. But it was a long time sinceshe had read a story, and she asked herself how this was. Dreams had goneout of her life, everything was a hard reality; her life was like acolliery, every wheel was turning, no respite day or night; her life wouldbe always the same, a burden and a misery. There never could be any changenow. She remembered her marriage, and how Mrs. Ede had persuaded her intoit, and for the first time she blamed the old woman for her interference. But this was not all. Kate was willing to admit that there was no one sheloved like Mr. Ede, but still it was hard to live with a mother-in-law whohad a finger in everything and used the house like her own. It would be allvery well if she were not so obstinate, so certain that she was alwaysright. Religion was very well, but that perpetual 'I'm a Christian woman, 'was wearisome. No wonder Mr. Lennox was leaving. Poor man, why shouldn't hehave a few friends up in the evening? The lodgings were his own while hepaid for them. No wonder he cut up rough; no wonder he was leaving them. Ifso, she would never see him again. The thought caught her like a pain inthe throat, and with a sudden instinct she turned to hurry home. As she didso her eyes fell on Mr. Lennox walking towards her. At such an unexpectedrealization of her thoughts she uttered a little cry of surprise; but, smiling affably, and in no way disconcerted, he raised his big hat from hishead. On account of the softness of the felt this could only beaccomplished by passing the arm over the head and seizing the crown as aconjurer would a pocket-handkerchief. The movement was large and unctuous, and it impressed Kate considerably. 

'I took the liberty to stop, for you seemed so interested that I feltcurious to know what could be worth looking at in those chimneys andcinder-mounds. '

'I wasn't looking at the factories, but at the hills. The view from here isconsidered very fine. Don't you think so, sir?' she asked, feeling afraidthat she had made some mistake. 

'Ah, well, now you mention it, perhaps it is. How far away, and yet howdistinct! They look like the gallery of a theatre. We're on the stage, thefootlights run round here, and the valley is the pit; and there are plentyof pits in it, ' he added, laughing. 'But I mustn't speak to you of thetheatre. '

'Oh, I'm sure I don't mind! I'm very fond of the theatre, ' said Katehastily. 

This indirect allusion to last night brought the conversation to a close, and for some moments they stood looking vacantly at the landscape. Overheadthe sky was a blue dome, and so still was the air that the smoke-cloudstrailed like the wings of gigantic birds slowly balancing themselves. Andwaves of white light rolled up the valley as if jealous of the red, flashing furnaces. An odour of iron and cinders poisoned the air, and aftersome moments of contemplation which seemed to draw them closer together, Mr. Lennox said:

'There is no doubt that the view is very grand, but it is tantalizing tohave those hills before your eyes when you are shut up in a red brick oven. How fresh and cool they look! What wouldn't you give to be straying aboutin those fresh woods far away?'

Kate looked at Mr. Lennox with ravished eyes; his words had flooded hermind with a thousand forgotten dreams. She felt she liked him better forwhat he had said, and she murmured as if half ashamed:

'I've never been out of Hanley. I've never seen the sea, and when I was achild I used to fancy that the fairies lived beyond those hills; even now Ican't help imagining that the world is quite different over there. Here itis all brick, but in novels they never speak of anything but gardens andfields. '

'Never seen the sea! Well, there isn't much to _see_ in it, ' Mr. Lennox said, laughing at the pun. 'When you were a little girl you used tocome here to play, I suppose?'

'Yes, sir; I was born over in one of those cottages. '

Mr. Lennox, without knowing whether to look sorry or sentimental, listenedpatiently to Kate, who, proud of being able to show him anything, drew hisattention to the different points of view. The white gables that could justbe distinguished in the large dark masses of trees was Bucknell Rectory. The fragment of the cliff on the top of the highest ridge half-way up thesky was Watley Rocks; then came Western Coyney, the plains of Standon, andfar away in a blue mist the outlines of the Wever Hills. But Mr. Lennox didnot seem very much interested; the sun was too hot for him, and in thefirst pause of the conversation he asked Kate which way she was going. Hehad to get on to the theatre, and he asked her if she would show him theway there. 

'You can't do better than to go down Market Street; but if you like I willdirect you. '

'I shall be so glad if you will; but Market Street--I think you said MarketStreet? That is just the way I've come. '

Market Street was where people connected with the theatre generally lived, and Kate knew at once he had been looking for lodgings; but she was ashamedto ask him, and they walked on for some time without speaking. But everymoment the silence became more irritating, and at last, determined to knowthe worst, she said, 'I suppose you were looking for lodgings; all thetheatre people put up in that street. '

Mr. Lennox flinched before this direct question. 

'Why, no, not exactly; I was calling on some friends; but as you say, someof the profession live in the street, and now you mention it, I suppose Ishall have to find some new diggings. '

'I'm sorry, sir, very sorry, ' said Kate, looking up into the big blue eyes. 'I ought not to have come down; you are, of course, master in your ownrooms. '

'Oh, it wasn't your fault; I could live with you for ever. You mustn'tthink I want to change. If you could only guarantee that your mother-in-lawwill keep out of my way. '

Kate felt at that moment that she would guarantee anything that wouldprevent Mr. Lennox from leaving her house. 

'Oh, I don't think there will be any difficulty about that, ' she saideagerly. 'I'll bring your breakfast and dinner up, and you are out nearlyall day. '

'Very well, then, and I'll promise not to bring home any friends, ' he addedgallantly. 

'But I'm afraid you'll be very lonely, sir. '

'I'll have you to talk to sometimes. '

Kate made no answer, but they both felt that the words implied more thanthey actually meant, and they remained silent, like people who had come tosome important conclusion. Then after a long pause, and without anytransition, Mr. Lennox spoke of the heat of the weather and of the harm itwas likely to do their business at the theatre. She asked him what hethought of Hanley. Mr. Lennox smiled through his faint moustache and saidthe red brick hurt his eyes. 

Kate did not feel quite satisfied with this last observation, and spoke ofthe pretty places there were about the town. Pointing down a redperspective backed by the usual hills, she told him that Trentham, the Dukeof Sutherland's place, was over there. 

'What, over those hills? That must be miles away. '

'Oh, not so far as that. Hanley doesn't reach to there. The country isbeautiful, once you get past Stoke. I went once to see the Duke's place, and we had tea in the inn. That was the only time I was ever really in thecountry, and even then we were never quite out of sight of the factories. Still, it was very nice. '

'And who were you with?'

'Oh, with my husband. '

'He's an invalid, isn't he?'

'Well, I'm afraid he suffers very much at times, but he's often wellenough. '

The conversation again came to a pause, and both thought of how happy theywould be were they taking tea together at the inn at Trentham. 

But they were now in the centre of the town, close to the Town Hall, astupid, square building with two black cannon on either side of the door. Opposite was a great shop with 'Commercial House' written across the secondstory in gold letters. Bright carpets and coarse goods were piled about thedoorway; and from these two houses Piccadilly and Broad Street, itscontinuation, ran down an incline, and Church Street branched off, givingthe town the appearance of a two-pronged fork. 

All was red brick blazing under a blue sky without a cloud in it; the redbrick that turns to purple; and all the roofs were scarlet--red brick andscarlet tiles, and not a tree anywhere. 

'You don't seem to have a tree in Hanley, ' Mr. Lennox said. 

'I don't think there are many, ' she answered, and they gazed at the baldrotundities of the pottery ovens. 

He had never seen a town before composed entirely of brick and iron. A townof work; a town in which the shrill scream of the steam train as it rolledsolemnly up the incline seemed to be man's cry of triumph over vanquishednature. 

After looking about him, Mr. Lennox said, 'What I object to in the town isthat there's nothing to do. And it's so blazing hot; for goodness' sake letus get under the shadow of a wall. '

Kate smiled, and as they crossed over they both wiped their faces. 

'There are the potteries, ' she said, referring to Mr. Lennox's complaintthat there was nothing to do in the town. 'Everybody that comes to Hanleygoes to see them; but the best are in Stoke. '

'I'm sure I'm not going to Stoke to see potteries, ' he answered decisively, 'but if there are any at Hanley I dare say I shall turn in some afternoon. I've heard some of our people say they are worth seeing. But, ' he added, asif a sudden thought had struck him, 'I might go now; I've nothing to do forthe next couple of hours. How far are the nearest?'

Kate told him that Powell and Jones's works were close by in the HighStreet. She pointed out the way, but, failing to make Mr. Lennox understandher, she consented to go with him. He had a kind, soft manner of speakingwhich drew Kate towards him almost as if he had taken her in his arms, andit was astonishing how intimate they had grown in the last few minutes. 

'It doesn't look very interesting, ' he said, as they stopped before anarchway and looked into a yard filled with straw and packing-cases. 

'Yes it is, but you must see the different rooms. You must go up to theoffice and ask for permission to see the works. '

'I don't think I'd care to go by myself. Won't you come with me?'

Kate hesitated; she had very little to do at home, and could say that Mrs. Barnes had kept her waiting. 

'Do come, ' he said after a pause, during which he looked at her eagerly. 

'Well, I should like to see the room where my mother used to work, but wemustn't stop too long. I shall be missed at home. ' The matter being soarranged, they entered the yard, and Kate pointed out a rough staircaseplaced against the wall. 'You must go up there; the office is at the top. Ask for permission to see the works and I'll wait here for you. '

Half a dozen men were packing crockery into crates with spades, and as shewatched them she remembered that she used to come to this yard with hermother's dinner, and stand wondering how they could pack the delf withoutbreaking it. She remembered one afternoon particularly well; she hadpromised to be very good, and had been allowed to sit by her mother andwatch her painting flowers that wound in and out and all about a big bluevase. She remembered how she was reproved for peeping over her neighbour'sshoulder, and how proud she felt sitting among all the workwomen. She couldrecall the smell of the paint and turpentine, and her grief when she wastold that she was too delicate to learn painting, and was going to be putout to dressmaking. But that time was long ago; her mother was dead and shewas married. Everything was changed or broken, as was that beautiful vase, probably. It astonished Kate to find herself thinking of these things. Shehad passed the High Street twenty times during the last six months withoutit even occurring to her to visit the old places, and when Mr. Lennox cameback he noticed that there were tears in her eyes. He made no remark, buthastily explained that he had been told that there was a party just thatminute gone on in front of them, and they were to catch them up. 

'This way, then, ' she said, pointing to a big archway. 

'Oh, I can't run; don't be in such a hurry, ' said Mr. Lennox, panting. 

Kate laughed, and admitted that the heat was great. Out of a sky burntalmost to white the glare descended into the narrow brick-yards. Thepacking straw seemed ready to catch fire; the heaps of wet clay, which twoboys were shovelling, smoked, emitting as it did so an unpleasant wetodour. On passing the archway they caught sight of three black coats andthree soft hats like the one Mr. Lennox wore. 

'Oh!' said Kate, stopping, disappointed, 'we'll have to go round with thoseclergymen. '

'What does that matter? It will be amusing to listen to them. '

'But mother knows all of them. '

'They must be strangers in the town or they wouldn't be visiting thepotteries, surely. '

'I hadn't thought of that; I suppose you're right, ' and hastening a little, they overtook the party that was being shown round. The Dissentingclergymen looked askance at Mr. Lennox, and as he showed them into a smallwhite cell the guide said, 'You're in plenty of time, sir; these are thesnagger-makers. '

Two men were beating a heap of wet clay in order to insure a something inthe bakery which nobody understood, but which the guide took some troubleto explain. The clergymen pressed forward to listen. Mr. Lennox wiped hisface, and they were then hurried into a second cell, where unbaked disheswere piled all around upon shelves. It was said to be the dishmakers'place, and was followed by another and another room, all of which Mr. Lennox thought equally hot and uninteresting. He strove to escape from theguide, who drew him through the line of clergymen and made plain to him themysteries of earthenware. 

At last these preliminary departments were disposed of, and they were ledto another part of the works. On their way thither they passed the ovens. These were scattered over the ground like beehives in a garden. Lennoxpatted their round sides, approvingly saying that they reminded him ofoyster boys in a pantomime, and might be introduced into the next Christmasshow. Kate looked at him, her eyes full of wonder. She could not understandhow he could think of such things. 

In the printing-room they listened to the guide, who apparently consideredit important that clergymen, actor, and dressmaker should understand thedifferent processes the earthenware had to pass through before it wasplaced on toilet or breakfast table. Smoking flannels hung on lines allaround, and like laundresses at their tubs, four or five women washed theprinted paper from the plates. A man in a paper cap bent over a stove, andas if dissatisfied with the guide's explanation of his work, broke out intoa wearisome flow of technical details. At the other end of this vastworkroom there was a line of young girls who cut the printed matter out ofsheets of paper, the scissors running in and out of flowers, tendrils, andlittle birds without ever injuring one. The clergymen watched the process, delighted, while Lennox stepped behind Kate and whispered that he had justcaught the tall Dissenter winking at the dark girl on the right, which wasnot true, and was invented for the sake of the opportunity it gave him ofbreathing on Kate's neck--a lead up to the love-scene which he had nowdecided was to come off as soon as he should find himself alone with her. 

They passed through a brick alley with a staircase leading to a platformbuilt like a ship's deck, and went on through a series of rooms till theycame to a place almost as hot as a Turkish bath, filled with unbaked platesand dishes. The smell of wet clay drying in steam diffused from underneathwas very unpleasant, and caused one of the ministers to cough violently, whereupon the guide explained that the platemakers' departments wereconsidered the most unhealthy of any in the works; the people who workedthere, he said, usually suffered from what is known as the potter's asthma. This interested Kate, and she delayed the guide with questions as to howthe potter's asthma differed from the ordinary form of the disease, andwhen their little procession was again put in motion she told Mr. Lennoxhow her husband was affected, and the nights she had spent watching at hisside. But although Lennox listened attentively, she could not help thinkingthat he seemed rather glad than otherwise that her husband was an invalid. The unkind way in which he spoke of sick people shocked her, and sheopposed the opinion that a person in bad health was a disgusting object, while Lennox took advantage of the occasion to whisper into her ears thatshe was far too pretty a woman for an asthmatic husband; and, encouraged byher blushes, he even hazarded a few coarse jokes anent the poor husband'sdeficiencies. How could a man kiss if he couldn't breathe, for if there wasa time when breath was essential, according to him, it was when four lipsmeet. 

No one had ever spoken to her in this way before, and had she known how todo so she would have resented his familiarities. Once their hands met. Thecontact caused her a thrill; she put aside the unbaked plate they wereexamining and said: 'We'd better make haste or we shall lose them. '

The next two rooms were considered the most interesting they had beenthrough; even the three clergymen lost something of their stolid manner andasked Lennox his opinion regarding the religious character of Hanley, andif he were of their persuasion. 

'What is that?' asked Lennox, affecting a comic innocence which he hopedwould tickle Kate's fancy. 

'We're Wesleyans, ' said the minister. 

'And I'm an actor; but, I beg your pardon, stage-managing's more mybusiness, ' news that seemed to cast a gloom over the faces of theministers; and leaving them to make what they could of his reply, he drewKate forward confidentially and pointed to an old man sittingstraddle-legged on a high narrow table just on a line with the window. Hewas covered with clay; his forehead and beard were plastered with it, andbefore him was an iron plate, kept continually whirling by steam, which hecould stop by a pressure of his foot. He squeezed a lump of clay into along shape not unlike a tall ice, then, forcing it down into the shape of abatter-pudding, he hollowed it. Round and round went the clay, the handsforming it all the while, cleaning and smoothing until it came out a trueand perfect jampot, even to the little furrow round the top, which wasgiven by a movement of the thumbs. He had been at work since seven in themorning, and the shelves round him were encumbered with the result of hislabours. Everyone marvelled at his dexterity, until he was forgotten in thesuperior attractions of the succeeding room. This was the turning-house, and Lennox could not help laughing outright, so amusing did the sceneappear to him. Women went dancing up and down on one leg, and at suchregular intervals that they seemed absolutely like machines. They were atonce the motive power and the feeders of the different lathes. It was theywho handed the men lumps of dry clay, which they turned into shapes. Thestrangeness of the spectacle gave rise to much comment. The clergymen wereanxious to know if the constant jigging was injurious to health. Lennoxinquired how much coin they made by their one-leg dancing. He spoke oftheir good looks, and this led him easily into the question of morals, asubject in which he was much interested. He wanted to know if this crowdingtogether of the sexes could be effected without danger. Surely cases ofseduction must occur occasionally. In answering him the guide betrayed acertain reticence of manner which encouraged Lennox to ask him if he reallymeant to say that nothing ever befell these young women who were workingall day side by side with people of the other sex. Did their thoughts neverwander from their work? The guide assured Mr. Lennox that there was no timeto think of such nonsense in the factory, and, anxious to vindicate thehonour of the establishment, he declared that any who took the smallestliberty with any female would be instantly dismissed from the works. Theministers listened approvingly, although they seemed to think the subjectmight have been avoided. Kate felt a little embarrassed, and Mr. Lennoxwatched a big, blonde-haired woman who smiled prettily and seemed quiteconscious of her sex, notwithstanding the ludicrous bobbing up and downposition she was in. With a courage that surprised herself Kate proposedthat they should go on. She was beginning to feel uneasy at the time shehad been away from home and certain that Mrs. Ede would be on the doorsteplooking up and down the street; and she could well imagine how cross Ralphwould be if he heard she had been to the potteries with Mr. Lennox. Shefelt very sorry for the one and a little resentful towards the other, butthe sentimental desire to see the painting-room where her mother used towork prevailed, and with her heart full of recollections she followed theparty to the ovens. 

Their way thither led them around the building, and they passed throughmany workrooms. These were generally clean, airy spaces, with big raftersand whitewashed walls. Sometimes a bunch of violets, a book, or a newspaperlying on the table, suggested an absent owner, and a refined countenancewas sought for in the different groups of women. There was also adifference in the hats and shawls, and it was easy to tell which belongedto the young girls, which to the mothers of families. Everyone lookedhealthy and contented. All were nice-looking, as Lennox continued toassert, and all worked industriously at their numberless employments, oneof the most curious of which consisted in knocking the roughness off thefinished earthenware. 

A dozen women sat in a circle; above them and around them were piles ofdinner-services of all kinds. Each held with one hand a piece of crockeryon her knees, whilst with a chisel she chopped away at it as if it couldnot by any possibility be broken. As may easily be imagined, the noise inthis warehouse was bewildering. 

Through this room and others, up and down many narrow staircases, thevisiting party went, the guide leading, the three black clergymenfollowing, Kate lingering behind with Mr. Lennox until they came to theovens. The entrance was from an immense corridor, prolonged by shadow anddivided down the middle by presses full of drying earthenware, the smell ofwhich was not, however, as strong as in the platemakers' place, and thedifference was noticed by the clergyman with the cough. He said he was notaffected to nearly the same extent. 

From time to time the visitors had to give way to men who marched in singlefile carrying what seemed to be huge cheeses, but the guide explained thatwithin these were cups, saucers, bowls, and basins, and men mounted onladders piled these yellow tubs up the walls of the ovens. When thevisitors had peeped into the huge interior, they were conducted to thefurnaces; and these were set in the oven's inner shell, which made a narrowcircular passage slanting inwards as it ascended like the neck of achampagne bottle. The fires glared so furiously that they suggested manyimpious thoughts to Lennox, and he proposed to ask the ministers if therewere any warmer corners in hell, and was with difficulty dissuaded by Kate, about whose waist he had passed his arm. His constant whispering in herear, which had at first amused her, now irritated and annoyed her; otheremotions filled her mind with a vague tumult, and she longed to be left tothink in peace. She begged of him to keep quiet, and as they crossed one ofthe yards she asked the guide if he could not go straight to thepainting-room. He replied that there was a regular order to be observed, and insisted on marching them through two more rooms, and explaining fullythree or four more processes. Then, after begging them to be careful and tohold the rail, he led them up a high staircase. The warning caused Kate athrill, for she remembered that every step of this staircase had been aterror to her mother. 

The room itself proved a little disappointing. The tables were not arrangedin quite the same way, and these alterations deprived her of the emotionsshe had expected. Still it gave her a great deal of pleasure to point outto Mr. Lennox where her mother used to work. 

But to find the exact spot was not by any means easy. There were upwards ofa hundred young women sitting on benches, leaning over huge tables coveredwith unfinished pottery. Each held in her hand a plate, bowl, or vase, onwhich she executed some design. The clergy showed more interest than theyhad hitherto done, and as they leaned to and fro examining the work, one ofthem discovered the something _Guardian_, a Wesleyan organ, on one ofthe tables, and hailing his fellows, they began to interview theproprietor. But the guide said they had to visit the store-rooms, andforced them away from their 'lamb. '

Ridges of vases, mounds of basins and jugs, terraces of plates, formedmasses of sickly white, through which rays of light were caught and sentdancing. Along the wall on the left-hand side presses were overcharged withdusty tea-services. On the right were square grey windows, under which theconvex sides of salad-bowls sparkled in the sun; and from rafter to rafter, in garlands and clusters like grapes, hung gilded mugs bearing devicessuitable for children, and down the middle of the floor a terrace was builtof dinner-plates. 

Two rooms away, a large mound of chamber-pots formed an astonishingbackground, and against all this white and grey effacement the men whostood on high ladders dusting the crockery came out like strange blackclimbing insects. 

The clergyman said it was very interesting, and just as he did everythingelse the guide explained the system of storing employed by the firm; howthe crockery was packed, and how the men would soon be working only threedays a week on account of the American tariff. But he was not much listenedto. Everyone was now tired, and the clergymen, who, since the discovery ofthe newspaper, had been showing signs that they regarded their visit to thepotteries as ended, pulled out their watches and whispered that their timewas up. The guide told them that there were only a few more rooms to visit, but they said that they must be off, and demanded to be conducted to thedoor. This request was an embarrassing one; it was against the rules everto leave visitors when going the rounds. The guide had, therefore, eitherto conduct the whole party to the door or transgress his orders. After aslight hesitation, influenced no doubt by a conversation he had had withLennox, in which mention was made of tickets for the theatre, he decided totake the responsibility on himself, and asked that gentleman if he wouldmind waiting a few minutes with his lady while the religious gentlemen werebeing shown the way out. Lennox assented with readiness, and the threeblack figures and the guide disappeared a moment after behind the bedroomutensils. After an anxious glance round Lennox looked at Kate, who, at thatmoment, was gathering to herself all the recollections that the placeevoked. She knew the room she was in well, for she used to pass through itdaily with her mother's dinner, and she remembered how in her childhood shewondered how big the world must be to hold enough people to use suchthousands of cups and saucers. There used to be a blue tea-service in thefar corner, and she had often lingered to imagine a suitable parlour for itand for her dream husband. One day she had torn her frock coming up thestairs, and was terribly scolded; another time Mr. Powell, attracted by herblack curls, had stopped to speak to her, and he had given her as a presentone of the children's mugs--one exactly like those hanging over her head. She had treasured it a long time, but at last it was broken. It seemed thatall things belonging to her had to be broken; her dreams were made incrockery. 

But as Kate looked into the past she became gradually conscious of a voicewhispering to her, 'How odd it is that you should never have thought of revisiting this placeuntil you met me. '

She raised her eyes, and, her look seeming to tell him that this was hismoment, he turned to see if they were watched. At their feet a pile ofplates and teacups slept in a broad flood of sunlight, and three rooms awaythe boys on high ladders dusted the mugs. 

'What a pretty child you must have been! I can fancy you with your blackhair falling about your shoulders. Had I known you then, I should havetaken you in my arms and kissed you. Do you think you would have liked meto have kissed you?'

She raised her eyes again, and a vague feeling of how nice, how kind hewas, rushed through her, and perceiving still more clearly that this momentwas his moment, Lennox affected to examine a ring on her finger. The warmpressure of his hand caused her to start, and she would have put him fromher, but his voice calmed her. 

'Ah!' he said, 'had I known you then, I should have been in love with you. '

Kate closed her eyes, and abandoned herself to an ineffable sentiment ofweakness, of ravishment; and then, imagining that she was his, Lennox tookher in his arms and kissed her rudely. But quick, angry thoughts rushed toher head at the first movement of his arms, and obeying an impulse incontradiction to her desire, she shook herself free, and looked at himvexed and humiliated. 

'Oh, how very cross we are; and about a kiss, just a tiny, wee kiss!'

She stood staring at him, only half hearing what he said, irritated againsthim and herself. 

'I'm sure I didn't mean to offend you, ' he continued after a pause, forKate's manner puzzled him; 'I love you too well. '

'Love me?' she cried, astonished, but with nevertheless a tone ofinterrogation in her voice. 'Why, you never saw me till the other day. '

'I loved you the first moment; I assure you I did. '

Kate looked at him imploringly, as if beseeching him not to deceive her. There was an honest frankness in his big blue eyes, and his face said asclearly as words, 'I think you a deuced pretty woman, and I'm sure I couldlove you very much, ' and recognizing this, Kate remained silent. 

And thus encouraged, Mr. Lennox attempted to renew his intentions. Butactions have to be prefaced by words, and he commenced by declaring thatwhen a man would give the whole world for a kiss, it was not to be expectedthat he would resist trying for one, and he strove to think of the famouslove scene in _The Lady of Lyons_. But it was years since he hadplayed the part, and he could only murmur something about reading no booksbut lovers' books, singing no songs but lovers' songs. The guide would beback in a few minutes, and, inspired by Kate's pale face, he came to theconclusion that it would be absurd to let her go without kissing herproperly. 

He was a strong man, but Kate had now really lost her temper, and struggledvigorously, determined he should not gain his end. Three times his lips hadrested on her cheek, once he managed to kiss her on the chin, but he couldnot reach her mouth: she always succeeded in twisting her face away, andnot liking to be beaten he put forth all his strength. She staggeredbackwards and placed one hand on his throat, and with the other strove tocatch at his moustache; she had given it a wrench that had brought tearsinto his eyes, but now he was pinioning her; she could see his big faceapproaching, and summoning up all her strength she strove to get away, butthat moment, happening to tread on her skirt, her feet slipped. He made adesperate effort to sustain her, but her legs had gone between his. 

The crash was tremendous. A pile of plates three feet high was sentspinning, a row of salad-bowls was over, and then with a heavy stagger Mr. Lennox went down into a dinner-service, sending the soup-tureen rollinggravely into the next room. 

A feeling at first prevailed that some serious accident had happened, butwhen Kate rose, pale and trembling, from the litter of a bedroom set, andLennox was lifted out of the dinner-service with nothing apparently worsethan a cut hand, a murmur of voices asking the cause of the disaster washeard. But before a word could be said the guide came running towards them. He declared that he would lose his place, and spoke vaguely to those aroundhim of the necessity of suppressing the fact that he had left visitorsalone in the storerooms. 

Lennox, on the other hand, was very silent. He had evidently received somebad cuts, of which he did not speak. He put his hand to his legs and feltthem doubtfully. There was a large gash in his right hand, from which hepicked a piece of delf, and as he tied the wound up with apocket-handkerchief he partly quieted the expostulating guide by assuringhim that everything would be paid for. And taking Kate's arm, he hobbledout of the place. 

The suddenness and excitement of the accident had for the moment quenchedher angry feelings, and, overwhelmed with pity for the poor wounded hand, she thought of nothing but getting him to a doctor. Indeed, it was notuntil she heard him telling Mr. Powell in the office that he was subject tofits, and that in striving to hold him up the lady had fallen too, that sheremembered how he had behaved, how he had disgraced her. But her mouth wasclosed, and she listened in amazement to him as he invented detail afterdetail with surprising dexterity. He did not even hesitate to call in theevidence of the guide, who, in his own interests, was obliged to assent;and when Mr. Powell inquired after the three clergymen, Lennox said thatthey had left them in the yard after visiting the ovens. 

Mr. Powell listened with a look of pity on his face, and began to tell of apoor brother of his who was likewise subject to fits, and, possiblyinfluenced by the remembrance, refused to receive any remuneration for thebroken crockery, saying that to a firm like theirs a few plates more orless was of no importance. 

And this matter being settled, Lennox hobbled away, leaving a little poolof blood on the floor of the office. She had to lend him her handkerchief, his was now saturated--to tie round his hand: he confessed to a bad cut inthe leg, saying he could feel the blood trickling down into his boot, butdid not think he needed a doctor. 'A bit of sticking-plaster, dear; I'llget some at the apothecary's. Which is the way?'

'Take the first turn to the right, and you're in Church Street; but theremay be bits of the delf in the wound?'

'I shall see to that. But how strong you are; you're like a lion. Youmustn't struggle like that next time. '

At the suggestion that there was going to be a next time Kate's faceclouded, but she was so alarmed for his safety that it was only for amoment. She had hardly noticed that he called her 'dear'; he used the wordso naturally and simply that it touched her with swift pleasure, and was assoon lost in a crowd of conflicting emotions. 

The man was coarse and largely sensual, but each movement of his fat handswas protective, every word he uttered was kind, the very intonation of hisvoice was comforting. He was, in a word, human, and this attracted all thatwas human in her. 

V

On leaving Mr. Lennox Kate walked slowly along the streets, recalling everyword he had said, feeling his breath upon her cheek and his blue eyeslooking into hers more distinctly in recollection than when he had held herin his arms. She walked immersed in recollections, every one clear andprecise, experiencing a sort of supersensual gratification, one she hadnever known before. Being a child of the people, his violence had notimpressed her, and she murmured to herself every now and then:

'Poor fellow, what a fall he had! I hope he didn't hurt himself. '

By turns she thought of things totally different--of Hender, of the littlegirls, who would regret her absence from the workroom, and it was notwithout surprise that she caught herself wishing suddenly they were her ownchildren. The wish was only momentary, but it was the first time a desirefor motherhood had ever troubled her. 

It amused her to think of their smiling faces, and to make sure of theirsmiles she entered a shop and bought a small packet of sweetstuff, and withthe paper in her hand continued her walk home. The cheap prints in anewspaper shop delayed her, and the workmen who were tearing up the roadforced her to consider how a suspension of traffic would interfere with herbusiness. She was now in Broad Street, and when she raised her eyes she sawher own house. A new building high and narrow, it stood in the main streetat the corner of a lane, the ground-floor windows filled with light goods, and underneath them black hats trimmed with wings and tails of birds. Therewere also children's dresses, and a few neckties trimmed with white lace. 

As she entered the shop Mrs. Ede, who was in the front kitchen, cried, 'Well, is that you, Kate? Where have you been? I waited dinner an hour foryou; and how tired you look!'

In her present state of mind Mrs. Ede was the last person Kate cared tomeet. 

'What's the matter, my dear? Aren't you well? Shall I get you a glass ofwater?'

'Oh no, mother; I'm all right. Can't you see that I'm only very hot?'

'But where have you been? I waited dinner an hour for you. It's past twoo'clock!'

Kate did not know how to account for her absence from home, but after apause she answered, thinking of Mr. Lennox as she spoke, 'Mrs. Barnes keptme waiting above an hour trying her dress on, and then I was so done upwith night-watching and sewing that I thought I'd go for a walk, ' and afterwiping her weary hot face she asked her mother-in-law if many people hadbeen in the shop that morning. 

'Well, yes, half a dozen or more, ' Mrs. Ede answered, and began to recountthe different events of the morning. Mrs. White had bought one of theaprons; she said she hadn't seen the pattern before; a stranger had takenanother; and Miss Sargent had called and wanted to know how much it wouldcost to remake her blue dress. 

'Oh, I know; she wants me to reline the skirt and put new trimming on thebodice for seven and sixpence; we can do without her custom. What then?'

'And then--ah! I was forgetting--Mrs. West came in to tell us that herfriend Mrs. Wood, the bookseller's wife, you know, up the street, was goingto be confined, and would want some baby-linen, and she recommended herhere. '

'Did you see nobody else?'

'Well, yes, a young man who bought half a dozen pocket-handkerchiefs; I lethim have the half-dozen for four shillings; and I sold a pink necktie toone of the factory hands over the way. '

'Why, mother, you've done a deal of business, and I'm glad about thebaby-linen. We've a lot in stock, and it hasn't gone off well. I don't knowMrs. Wood, but it's very kind of Mrs. West to recommend us; and how hasHender been getting on with the skirt?'

'Well, I must say she has been working very well; she was here at half-pasteight, and she did not stop away above three-quarters of an hour fordinner. '

'I'm glad of that, for I was never so backward in my life with my work, what with Ralph being ill and Mr. ----'

Kate tried here to stop herself. The conversation had so far been anagreeable one, and she did not wish to spoil it by alluding to a subject onwhich there was no likelihood of their agreeing. But her mother-in-law, guessing that Kate was thinking of the mummer, said, 'Yes, I wanted to talkto you about that. He hasn't sent anyone to take away his things, and hedidn't even speak when I took him up his breakfast this morning. '

'I don't think Mr. Lennox is leaving us, ' she answered, after a pause. 'Ithought it was settled last night that he was to be told that he mustn'tbring friends home after eleven o'clock at night. When I see him I'll speakto him about it. '

'The house is yours, deary. If you're satisfied, I am. ' And Kate walkedinto the kitchen, and when she had finished her dinner she went upstairs tosee Ralph, whom Mrs. Ede declared to be much better. On passing theworkroom the door opened suddenly and the bright faces of the little girlsdarted out. 

'Oh, is that you, Mrs. Ede? How we've missed you all the morning!' Anniecried. 

'And Miss Hender has been so busy that she had to get me to help her withthe skirt, and I did a great long piece myself without a mistake. Didn't I, Miss Hender?'

'I'm going to see my husband, ' said Kate, smiling; 'but I shall be downpresently, and I've bought something for you. '

'Oh, what is it?' cried Annie excitedly. 

'You shall see presently. '

Ralph was lying still in bed, propped up in his usual attitude, with hislegs tucked under him. 

'Don't you think we might open something?' she said, as she sat down by thebedside; 'and your sheets want changing. '

'Oh, if you've only come in to turn everything upside-down, you might aswell have stayed away. ' He spoke with difficulty, in a thin wheeze. 

'I think the pills did me good last night, ' he said, after a pause; andthen added, laughing as much as his breath would allow him, 'and what arage mother was in! But tell me, what were they doing downstairs? Werethere any ladies there? I was too bad to think of anything. '

'Yes, some of the ladies from the theatre, ' Kate answered. 'But I don'tthink mother had a right to kick up all the row she did. '

'And it just came in upon her prayers, ' Ralph replied, smiling. 

Although cross-grained, Mr. Ede was not always an unpleasant man, and oftenin sudden flashes of affection the kind heart of his mother wasrecognizable in him. 

'You mustn't laugh, Ralph, ' said Kate, looking aside, for the comic side ofthe question had suddenly dawned upon her. 

But their hilarity was not of long endurance. Ralph was seized with a fitof coughing, and when this was over he lay back exhausted. At last he said:

'But where have you been all the day? We've been wondering what had becomeof you. '

The question, although not put unkindly, annoyed Kate. 'One would think I'dcome back from a long journey', she said to herself. 'It's just as Hendersays; if I'm out half an hour more than my time everyone is, as they say, "wondering what has become of me. "' Assuming an air of indifference, shetold him that Mrs. Barnes kept her a long time, and that she went for awalk afterwards. 

'I'm glad of that, ' he said. 'You wanted a walk after being shut up with methree nights running. And what a time you must have had of it! But tell mewhat you've been doing in the shop. '

She told him that 'mother' had sold all the aprons, and he said: 'I knewthey'd sell. I told you so, didn't I?'

'You did, dear, ' said Kate, seeking to satisfy him; 'but you mustn't talkso much; you'll make yourself bad again. '

'But are you going?'

'I've been out so long that I've a lot to do; but I'll come back and seeyou in the evening. '

'Well, then, kiss me before you go. '

As she kissed him, she remembered the struggle in the potteries, and itappeared strange to her that she should now be giving as a matter of coursewhat she had refused an hour ago. She had always complied with theordinances of the marriage state without passion or revolt, but now itdisgusted her to kiss her husband, and as she stepped into the passage shealmost walked into Mr. Lennox's room unconsciously, without knowing whatshe was doing, beguiled by the natural sentiment that a woman feels in theroom of a man she is interested in. Hoping that Mrs. Ede had not yet seteverything straight, she went on to make sure. Slippers and boots layabout; the portmanteau yawned wide open, with some soiled shirts on thetop; a pair of trousers trailed from a chair on the floor. Annoyed at themother's negligence, Kate hung the trousers on the door, placed theslippers tidily by his bedside, and put away the soiled linen. But in doingso she could not refrain from glancing at the contents of the portmanteau. She saw many of the traces which follow those who frequent women's society. The duchess works a pair of slippers for her lover, and the chorus-girldoes the same. The merchant's wife, as she holds the loved hand under theledge of her box at the theatre, clasps the ring she had given; the richwidow opposite has a jewel-case in her pocket which will presently be sentround to the stage-door for the tenor, who is now thinking of his high Bflat. 

Under the shirts Kate found a pair of slippers, a pin-cushion, and theinevitable ring. But there were other presents more characteristic of theman: there was a bracelet, a scent-bottle, and two pots of _pâté de foiegras_ wrapped up in a lace-trimmed chemise. Kate examined everything, but without being able to adduce any conclusion beyond a vague surmise thatLennox lived in a different world from hers. The _foie gras_ suggesteddelicacy of living, the chemise immorality, the bottle of scent refinementof taste; the bracelet she could make nothing of. Prosaic and vulgar aswere all these articles, in the dressmaker's imagination they became bothpoetized and purified. An infinite sadness, that she could not explain, rose up through her mind, and, staring vaguely at the pious exhortationshung on the wall--'Thou art my will, ' 'Thou art my hope'--she thought ofMr. Lennox's wounded legs, and asked herself if his bed were soft, and ifshe could do anything to make him more comfortable. It vexed her to seethat he had chosen to use the basin-stand made out of a triangular boardset in a corner instead of the proper one, where she had hung two cleantowels; and it was not until she remembered the little girls that she wasable to tear herself away. 

'What have you got for us?' said four red lips as Kate entered. 

'Oh, you must guess, ' she replied, taking a chair, and bidding Miss Hendergood-morning. 

'An apple?' cried Annie. 

'No. '

'An orange?' cried Lizzie. 

Kate shook her head, and at the sight of their bright looks she felt herspirits return to her. 

'No, it is sweetstuff. '

'Brandy balls?'

'No. '

'Toffee. '

'Yes; Annie has guessed right, ' said Kate, as she divided the toffeeequally between the two. 

'And do I get nothing for guessing right?' said Annie doubtfully. 

'Oh, for shame, Annie! I didn't think you were greedy!'

'I think I ought to have the most, ' replied Lizzie in self-defence. 'Had itnot been for me Miss Hender would never have got through her skirt. Ihelped you famously, didn't I, Miss Hender?'

The assistant nodded an impatient assent and gazed at her mistresscuriously. But while the children were present, she could only watch heremployer's face, and strive to read it. 

And unconscious of the scrutiny, Kate sat idly talking of the skirt thatwas finished. The clicking of the needles sounded as music in her ears, andshe abandoned herself to all sorts of soft and floating reveries. Not foryears had she known what it was to take her fill of rest; and her thoughtsswayed, now on one side and then on the other, as voluptuously as flowers, and hid themselves in the luxurious current of idleness which lappedloosely around her. 

The afternoon passed delightfully, full of ease and pleasant quiet, Hendertelling them how _Les Cloches_ had gone the night before: of MissLeslie's spirited singing, of the cider song, of Joe Mortimer's splendidmiser scene, of Bret's success in the barcarole. So eagerly did she speakof them that one would have thought she herself had received the applauseshe described. Kate listened dreamily, and the little girls sucked toffee, staring the while with interested eyes. 

VI

But Kate could not manage to see Mr. Lennox that evening or the next. Hecame in very late, and was away before she was down. She tormented herselftrying to find reasons for his absence, and it pained her to think that itmight be because the breakfasts were not to his taste. It seemed strange toher, too, that when a man cared to walk about the potteries with a woman, and talked as nicely as he had done to her, that he should not take thetrouble to come and see her, if only to say good-morning; and in a thousanddifferent ways did these thoughts turn and twist in Kate's brain, as shesat sewing opposite Hender in the workroom. This young woman had made upher mind that there was something between the stage-manager and heremployer, and it irritated her when Kate said she had not seen him for thelast two days. Kate was not very successful either in extracting theatricalnews from Hender. 'If she's going to be close with me, I'll show her thattwo can play at that game, ' and she answered that she had not noticed anylimp. But Mrs. Ede told Kate he limped so badly that she felt sure he musthave met with an accident. Which was she to believe? Mother, of course; butfeeling that only direct news of him would satisfy her, she waited nextmorning in the kitchen. But the trick was not successful; she was servingin the shop, and heard him leave by the side door. Whether he had done thison purpose to avoid her, or whether it was the result of chance, Katepassed the morning in considering. She had hitherto succeeded in completelyignoring their ridiculous fall amid the teacups, but the memory of it nowsurged up in her mind; and certain coarse details that she had forgottencontinued to recur to her with a singular persistency; deaf to Hender'sconversation, she sat sullenly sewing, hating even to go down to the shopto attend when Mrs. Ede called from below that there was a customerwaiting. 

About three o'clock Mrs. Ede's voice was heard. 

'Kate, come down; there is someone in the shop. '

Passing round the counter, she found herself face to face with awell-dressed woman. 

'I was recommended here by Mrs. West, ' the lady said, after a slighthesitation, 'to buy a set of baby clothes. '

'Is it for a new-born infant?' Kate asked, putting on her shop airs. 

'Well, the baby is not born yet, but I hope soon will be. '

'Oh, I beg pardon, ' said Kate, casting a rapid glance in the direction ofthe lady's waist. 

The baby clothes were kept in a box under the counter, and in a few momentsKate reappeared with a bundle of flannels. 

'You will find these of the very best quality; will you feel the warmth ofthis, ma'am?' she said, spreading out something that looked like two largetowels. 

The lady seemed satisfied with the quality, but from her manner ofexamining the strings Kate judged she was at her first confinement, andwith short phrases and quick movements proceeded to explain how the infantwas to be laid in the middle, and how the tapes were to be tied across. 

'And you will want a hood and cloak? We have some very nice ones at twopounds ten; but perhaps you would not like to give so much?'

Without replying to this question, the lady asked to see the articlesreferred to, and then, beneath the men's shirts that hung just above theirheads, the two women talked with many genuine airs of mystery and covertsubtlety. The lady spoke of her fears, of how much she wished the nextfortnight was over, of her husband, of how long she had been married. Shewas Mrs. Wood, the stationer's wife in Piccadilly. Kate said she knew hercustomer's shop perfectly, and assumed a sad expression when in her turnshe was asked if she had any children. On her replying in the negative, Mrs. Wood said, with a sigh of foreboding, that people were possibly justas well without them. 

It was at this moment that Mr. Lennox entered, and Kate tried to sweep awayand to hide up the things that were on the counter. Mrs. Wood was mildlyembarrassed, and with a movement of retiring she attempted to resume theconversation. 

'Very well, Mrs. Ede, ' she said; 'I quite agree with you--and I'll callagain about those pocket-handkerchiefs. '

But Kate, in her anxiety not to lose a chance of doing a bit of business, foolishly replied:

'Yes, but about those baby clothes--shall I send them, Mrs. Wood?'

Mrs. Wood murmured something inaudible in reply, and as she sidled andbacked out of the shop she bumped against Mr. Lennox. 

He lifted his big hat and strove to make way for her, but he had to getinto a corner to allow her to pass out, and then, still apologizing, hetook a step forwards, and leaning on the counter, said in a hurried voice:

'I've been waiting to see you for the last two days. Where have you beenhiding yourself?'

The unexpected question disconcerted Kate, and instead of answering himcoldly and briefly, as she had intended, said:

'Why, here; where did you expect me to be? But you've been out ever since, 'she added simply. 

'It wasn't my fault--the business I've had to do! I was in Londonyesterday, and only got back last night in time for the show. There wastalk of our boss drying up, but I think it's all right. I'll tell you aboutthat another time. I want you to come to the theatre to-morrow night. Hereare some tickets for the centre circle. I'll come and sit with you when Iget the curtain up, and we'll be able to talk. '

The worm does not easily realize the life of the fly, and Kate did notunderstand. The rapidly stated facts bewildered her, and she could onlysay, in answer to his again repeated question:

'Oh, I should like it so much, but it is impossible; if my mother-in-lawheard of it I don't know what she would say. '

'Well, then, come to-night; but no, confound it! I shall be busy all to-night. Hayes, our acting manager, has been drunk for the last three days;he can't even make up the returns. No, no; you must come to-morrow night. Come with Hender; she's one of the dressers. I'll make that all right; youcan tell her so from me. Will you promise to come?'

'I should like it so much; but what excuse can I give for being out tillhalf-past ten at night?'

'You needn't stay till then; you can leave before the piece is half over. Say you went out for a walk. '

The most ingenious and complete fiction that Mr. Lennox's inventive brainmight have worked out would not have appeased Kate's fears so completely asthe simple suggestion of a walk, and her face lit up with a glow ofintelligence as she remembered how successfully she had herself made use ofthe same excuse. 

'Then you'll come?' he said, taking her look for an answer. 

'I'll try, ' she replied, still hesitating. 

'Then that's all right, ' he murmured, pressing two or three pieces of paperinto her hands. 'I've been thinking of you a great deal. '

Kate smiled slowly, and a slight flush for a moment illuminated the paleolive complexion. 

'I dreamt that we were going up to London together, and that your head waslying on my shoulder, and it was so nice and pleasant, and when I woke up Iwas disappointed. '

Kate shivered a little, and drew back as if afraid; and in the pause whichensued Mr. Lennox remembered an appointment. 

'I must be off now, ' he said, 'there's no help for it; but you won'tdisappoint me, will you? The doors open at half-past six. If you're thereearly I may be able to see you before the piece begins. '

And with a grand lift of the hat the actor hurried away, leaving Kate toexamine the three pieces of paper he had given her. 

It was clearly impossible for her to go to the theatre without herassistant finding it out; she must confide in Hender, who would beastonished, no doubt. And she was not wrong in her surmise; the newsproduced first an astonished stare, and then a look of satisfaction to beread: 'Well, you are coming to your senses at last. ' Kate would have likedno more to be said on the subject, but the fact that her employer was goingto meet Mr. Lennox at the theatre was not sufficient for Hender; she mustneeds question Kate how this change had come about in her. 'Was she reallyspoons on the actor?' At these words Kate, who wished to leave everythingvague, the facts as well as her conception of them, declared that she wouldrather not go to the theatre at all, if such remarks were to be made. Whereupon Miss Hender took a view less carnal, and the two women discussedhow old Mrs. Ede might be given the slip. The idea of the walk was notapproved of; it was too simple; but on this point Kate would take noadvice, although she accepted the suggestion that she was to go upstairs, and under the pretext of changing her petticoat, should fold her hat intoher mantle and tie the two behind her just as she would a bustle; aningenious device, but difficult to put into practice. 

Ralph was out of bed, and, having been deprived of speech for more than aweek, he followed Kate into the back room, worrying her with questionsabout the shop, his health, his mother, and Mr. Lennox. 

At five o'clock Mrs. Ede came up to say she was going up the town to do alittle marketing for Sunday, and to ask Kate to come down to the frontkitchen, where she could be in sight of the shop. Miss Hender said nothingcould have happened more fortunately, and, with many instructions as towhere they should meet, she hurried away. But she was no sooner gone thanKate remembered she had no one to leave in charge of the shop. She shouldhave asked one of the apprentices, but she hadn't, and would have to turnthe key in the door and leave her mother-in-law to come in by the side way. Ralph would open to her; it couldn't be helped. Mr. Lennox was going awayto-morrow; she must see him. 

At that moment her mantle caused her some uneasiness; it didn't seem tohang well, and it was impossible to go to the theatre in the gloves thathad been lying in her pocket for the last month. She took a pair of greythread from the window, but while pulling them on her face changedexpression. Was it Ralph coming down the staircase? There was nobody elsein the house. Trembling, she waited for him to appear. Wheezing loudly, herhusband dragged himself through the doorway. 

'What--do you look so fri-frightened at? You did-didn't expect to see me, did you?'

'No, I didn't, ' Kate answered as if in a dream. 

'Feeling a good deal better, I thou-ght I would come down, but--but thestairs--have tried me. '

It was some time before he could speak again. At last he said:

'Where are you going?'

'I was just going for a walk. '

'I don't know how it is, but it seems to me that you're always out now;always coming in or going out; never in the shop. If it wasn't for myasthma I don't think I'd ever be out of the shop, but women think ofnothing but pleasure and--, ' a very rude word which she had never heardRalph use before. But it might be that she was mistaken. Poor man! it wasdistressing to watch him gasping for breath. He leaned against the counter, and Kate begged him to let her help him upstairs, but he shook her offtestily, saying that he understood himself better than anybody else did, and that he would look after the shop. 

'You're going out? Well, go, ' and she hurried away, hoping that a customerwould come in, for his great delight was the shop. 'Attending on half adozen customers will amuse him more than the play will amuse me, ' she saidto herself, and a smile rose to her lips, for she imagined him takingadvantage of her absence to rearrange the window. 'But what can havebrought him down?' Kate asked herself. 'Ah! that's it, ' she said, for ithad suddenly come into her mind that ever since she had told him of acertain sale of aprons and some unexpected orders for baby clothes he hadoften mentioned that the worst part of these asthmatic attacks was thatthey prevented his attendance in the shop. 'The shop is his pleasure justas the theatre is Hender's, ' Kate said as she hurried up Piccadilly to thetheatre, her heart in her mouth, for her time was up. Fearing to missHender, she raced along, dodging the passengers with quick turns andtwists. 'It's my only chance of seeing him; he's going away tomorrow, ' andshe was living so intensely in her own imagination that she neither saw norheeded anybody until she suddenly heard somebody calling after her, 'Kate!Kate! Kate!' She turned round and faced her mother-in-law. 

'Where on earth are you going at that rate?' said Mrs. Ede, who carried asmall basket on her arm. 

'Only for a walk, ' Kate replied in a voice dry with enforced calmness. 

'Oh, for a walk; I'm glad of that, it will do you good. But which way areyou going?'

'Any where round about the town. Up on the hill, St. John's Road. '

'How curious! I was just thinking of going back that way. There's afruiterer's shop where you can get potatoes a penny a stone cheaper thanyou can here. '

If a thunderbolt had ruined Hanley before her eyes at that moment, it wouldnot have appeared to her of such importance as this theft of her evening'spleasure. It was with difficulty that she saved herself from sayingstraight out that she was going to the theatre to see Mr. Lennox, and had aright to do so if she pleased. 

'But I like walking fast, ' she said; 'perhaps I walk too fast for you?'

'Oh no, not at all. My old legs are as good as your young ones. Kate, dear, what is the matter? Are you all right?' she said, seeing how cross herdaughter-in-law was looking. 

'Oh yes, I'm all right, but you do bother one so. '

This very injudicious phrase led to a demonstration of affection on thepart of Mrs. Ede, and whatever were the chances of getting rid of herbefore, they were now reduced to nothing. The strain on her nerves was atheight during the first half of the walk, for during that time she knewthat Mr. Lennox was expecting her; afterwards, while bargaining with thefruiterer in St. John's Road, she fell into despondency. Nothing seemed tomatter now; she did not care what might befall her, and in silence sheaccompanied her mother-in-law home. 

'Now, mother, you must leave me; I've some work to finish. '

'I'm sorry, Kate, if----'

'Mother, I've some work to finish; good-night. '

And she sat in the workroom waiting for Mr. Lennox. At last his heavy stepwas heard on the stairs; then, laying aside the shirt she was making, shestole out to meet him. He saw her as he scraped a match on the wall;dropping it, he put out his hands towards her. 

'Is that you, dear?' he said. 'Why didn't you come to the theatre? We had amagnificent house. '

'I couldn't; I met my mother-in-law. '

The red embers of the match that had fallen on the floor now went out, andthe indication of their faces was swept away in the darkness. 

'Let me get a light, dear. ' The intonation of his voice as he said 'dear'caused her an involuntary feeling of voluptuousness. She trembled as thevague outline of his big cheeks became clear in the red flame of the matchwhich he held in his hollowed hands. 

'Won't you come in?' she heard him say a moment after. 

'No, I couldn't; I must go upstairs in a minute. I only came to tell you, for I didn't want you to go away angry; it wasn't my fault. I should somuch have liked to have gone to the theatre. '

'It was a pity you didn't come; I was waiting at the door for you. I couldhave sat by you the whole time. '

Kate's heart died within her at thought of what she had lost, and after along silence she said very mournfully:

'Perhaps when you come back another time I shall be able to go to thetheatre. '

'We've done so well here that we're going to get another date. I'll writeand let you know. '

'Will you? And will you come back and lodge here?'

'Of course, and I hope that I shan't be so unlucky the next time as to falldown amid the crockery. '

At this they both laughed, and the conversation came to a pause. 

'I must bid you good-night now. '

'But won't you kiss me--just a kiss, so that I may have something to thinkof?'

'Why do you want to kiss me? You have Miss Leslie to kiss. '

'I never kissed Leslie; that's all nonsense, and I want to kiss you becauseI love you. '

Kate made no answer, and, following her into the heavy darkness that hungaround the foot of the staircase, he took her in his arms. She at firstmade no resistance, but the passion of his kiss caused her a sudden revolt, and she struggled with him. 

'Oh, Mr. Lennox, let me go, I beg of you, ' she said, speaking with her lipsclose to his. 'Let me go, let me go; they will miss me. '

Possibly fearing another fall, Mr. Lennox loosed his embrace, and she lefthim. 

VII

Next morning about eleven the mummer took off his hat in his very largestmanner to the ladies, and the bow was so deferential, and seemed to betokenso much respect for the sex, that even Mrs. Ede could not help thinkingthat Mr. Lennox was very polite. Ralph too was impressed, as well he mightbe, so attentively did Dick listen to him, just as if nothing in the worldconcerned him as much as this last attack of asthma, and it was not untilMrs. Ede mentioned that they would be late for church that it occurred toDick that his chance of catching the eleven o'clock train was growing moreand more remote. With a hasty comment on his dilatoriness, he caught up aparcel and rug and shook hands with them all. 

The cab rattled away, and Ralph proceeded up the red, silent streetstowards the Wesleyan church, walking very slowly between his womankind. 

'There's no doubt but that Mr. Lennox is a very nice man, ' he said, afterthey had gone some twenty or thirty paces--'a very nice man indeed; youmust admit, mother, that you were wrong. '

'He's polite, if you will, ' replied Mrs. Ede, who for the last few minuteshad been considering the ungodliness of travelling on a Sunday. 

'Don't walk so fast, ' Ralph cried. 

'Well, then, we shall be late for church!'

'Which, then, is the most important in your eyes--Mr. Peppencott's sermonor my breath?'

'I'm not thinking of Mr. Peppencott's sermon. '

'Then of his voice in the prayer. Lennox may be no better than an actor, 'he continued, 'but he's more fellow-feeling than you have. You saw yourselfhow interested he was in my complaint, and I shall try the cigarettes thatused to give his mother relief. ' He appealed to Kate, who answered him thatit would be as well to try the cigarettes, and her thoughts floated awayinto a regret that Mr. Lennox had not been able to come to church withthem, for she was reckoned to have a good voice. It may have been a memoryof Dick that enabled her to pour her voice into the hymn, singing it morelustily than Mrs. Ede ever heard her sing it before. It seemed to Mrs. Edethat only God's grace could enable anyone to sing as Kate was singing, andwhen the minister began to preach and Kate sat down, her eyes fixed, Mrs. Ede rejoiced. 'The word of God has reached her at last, ' she said. 'Neverhave I seen her listen so intently before to Mr. Peppencott. ' Kate satquite still, almost unconscious of the life around her, remembering that itwas on her way from the potteries that she had learnt that there is a lifewithin us deeper and more intense than the life without us. Dick's kisseshad angered her at the moment, but in recollection they were inexpressiblydear to her. Her fear had been that time would dim her recollection ofthem, and her great joy was to discover that this was not so, and that shecould recall the intonations of his voice and the colour of his eyes andthe words he spoke to her, reliving them in imagination more intensely thanwhile she was actually in his arms just before that terrible fall or in theshop and frightened lest Mrs. Ede or Ralph should come in and surprisethem. But in imagination she was secure from interruption and hindrance, and could taste over and over again the words that he had spoken: 'I shallbe back in three months, dear one. '

A great part of her happiness was in the fact that it was all withinherself, that none knew of it; had she wished to communicate it, she couldnot have done so. It was a life within her life, a voice in her heart whichshe could hear at any moment, and it was a voice so sweet and intense thatit could close her ears to her husband and her mother-in-law, who duringdinner fell into one of their habitual quarrels. 

Ralph, who had not forgotten his mother's lack of sympathy on their way tochurch, maintained the favourable opinion he had formed of Mr. Lennox. 'It's unchristian, ' he said, 'to condemn a man because of the trade orprofession he follows, ' and somewhat abashed, his mother answered: 'I'vealways been taught to believe that people who don't go to church leadgodless lives. '

Sunday was kept strictly in this family. Three services were attendedregularly. Kate hoped to recover the sensations of the morning, andattended church in the afternoon. But the whole place seemed changed. Thecold white walls chilled her; the people about her appeared to her in avery small and miserable light, and she was glad to get home. Her thoughtswent back to the book she had fallen asleep over last Sunday night when shesat by her husband's bedside, and when the house was quiet she wentupstairs and fetched it. But after reading a few pages the heat of thehouse seemed to her intolerable. There was no place to go to for a walkexcept St. John's Road, and there, turning listlessly over the pages of theold novel, the time passed imperceptibly. It was like sitting on thesea-shore; the hills extended like an horizon, and as the sea dreamerstrives to pierce the long illimitable line of the wave and follows thepath of the sailing ship, so did Kate gaze out of the sweeping green linethat enclosed all she knew of the world, and strove to look beyond into thecountry to where her friend was going. 

Northwood, with its hundreds of sharp roofs and windows, seemed to bedropping into a Sunday doze, under pale salmon-coloured tints, and thebells of its church sounded clearer and clearer at each peal. Warm airspassed over the red roofs of Southwark, and below in the vast hollow of thevalley all was still, all seemed abandoned as a desert; no whiff of whitesteam was blown from the collieries; no black cloud of smoke rolled fromthe factory chimneys, and they raised their tall stems like a suddenlydismantled forest to a wan, an almost colourless sky. The hills alonemaintained their unchangeable aspect. 

VIII

By well-known ways the dog comes back to his kennel, the sheep to the foldthe horse to the stable, and even so did Kate return to her sentimentalself. One day she was turning over the local paper, and suddenly, as ifobeying a long forgotten instinct, her eyes wandered to the poetry column, and again, just as in old time, she was caught by the same simplesentiments of sadness and longing. She found there the usual song, in which_regret_ rhymes to _forget_. The same dear questions which usedto enchant seven years ago were again asked in the same simple fashion; andthey touched her now as they had before. She refound all her old dreams. Itseemed as if not a day had passed over her. When she was a girl she used tocollect every scrap of love poetry that appeared in the local paper, andpaste them into a book, and now, the events of the week having roused herfrom the lethargy into which she had fallen, she turned for a poem to the_Hanley Courier_ as instinctively as an awakened child turns to thebreast. 

The verses she happened to hit on were after her own heart, and just whatwere required to complete the transformation of her character:

 'I love thee, I love thee, how fondly, how well Let the years that are coming my constancy tell; I think of thee daily, my night-thoughts are thine; In fairy-like vision thy hand presses mine; And even though absent you dwell in my heart; Of all that is dear to me, dearest, thou art. '

In reading these lines Kate's heart began to beat quickly, her eyes filledwith tears, and wrapped in brightness, like a far distant coast-line, avision of her girlhood arose. She recalled the emotions she onceexperienced, the books she had read, and the poetry that was lying upstairsin an old trunk pushed under the bed. It seemed to her wonderful that ithad been forgotten so long; her memory skipped from one fragment to theother, picking up a word here, a phrase there, until a remembrance of herfavourite novel seized her; she became the heroine of the absurd fiction, substituting herself for the lady who used to read Byron and Shelley to thegentleman who went to India in despair. 

As the fitness of the comparison dawned upon her, she yielded to anineffable sentiment of weakness: George was the husband's name in the book, she was Helene, and Dick was the lover to whom she could not, would not, give herself, and who on that account had gone away in despair. Thecoincidence appeared to her as something marvellous, something abovenature, and she turned it over, examined it in her mind, as a child would atoy, till, forgetful of her desire to overlook these relics of old times, she went upstairs to the workroom. 

The missed visit to the theatre was a favourite theme of conversationbetween the two women. Kate listened to what went on behind the scenes withgreater indulgence, and she seemed to become more accustomed to the ideathat Bill and Hender were something more than friends. She was conscious ofdisloyalty to her own upbringing and to her mother-in-law who loved her, and she often blamed herself and resolved never to allow Hender to speakill again of Mrs. Ede. But the temptation to complain was insidious. It wasnot every woman who would consent, as she did, to live under the same roofas her mother-in-law, and Hender, who hated Mrs. Ede, who spoke of her asthe 'hag, ' never lost an opportunity of pointing out the fact that thehouse was Kate's house and not Mrs. Ede's. The first time Hender said, 'After all, the house is yours, ' Kate was pleased, but the girl insistedtoo much, and Kate was often irritated against her assistant, and she oftenraged inwardly. It was abominable to have her thoughts interpreted byHender. She loved her mother-in-law dearly, she didn't know what she'd dowithout her, but--So it went on; struggle as she would with herself, therestill lay at the bottom of her mind the thought that Mrs. Ede had preventedher from going that evening to the theatre, and turn, twist, and wanderaway as she would, it invariably came back to her. 

Frequently Miss Hender had to repeat her questions before she obtained anintelligible answer, and often, without even vouchsafing a reply, Katewould pitch her work aside nervously. Her thoughts were not in her work;she waited impatiently for an opportunity of turning out the old trunk, full of the trinkets, books, verses, remembrances of her youth, which layunder her bed, pushed up against the wall. But a free hour was onlypossible when Ralph was out. Then her mother-in-law had to mind the shop, and Kate would be sure of privacy at the top of the house. 

There was no valid reason why she should dread being found out in soinnocent an amusement as turning over a few old papers. Her fear was merelyan unreasoned and nervous apprehension of ridicule. Ever since she couldremember, her sentimentality was always a subject either of mourning orpity; in allowing it to die out of her heart she had learned to feelashamed of it; the idea of being discovered going back to it revolted her, and she did not know which would annoy her the most, her husband's sneersor Mrs. Ede's blank alarm. Kate remembered how she used to be told thatnovels must be wicked and sinful because there was nothing in them that ledthe soul to God, and she resolved to avoid further lectures on thissubject. She devoted herself to the task of persuading Ralph to leave hiscounter and to go out for a walk. This was not easy, but she arrived atlast at the point of helping him on with his coat and handing him his hat;then, conducting him to the door, she bade him not to walk fast and to besure to keep in the sun. She then went upstairs, her mind relaxed, determined to enjoy herself to the extent of allowing her thoughts for anhour or so to wander at their own sweet will. 

The trunk was an oblong box covered with brown hair; to pull it out she hadto get under the bed, and it was with trembling and eager fingers that sheuntied the old twisted cords. Remembrance with Kate was a cult, but herhusband's indifference and her mother-in-law's hard, determined oppositionhad forced the past out of sight; but now on the first encouragement itgushed forth like a suppressed fountain that an incautious hand hadsuddenly liberated. And with what joy she turned over the old books! Sheexamined the colour of the covers, she read a phrase here and there: theywere all so dear to her that she did not know which she loved the best. Scenes, heroes, and heroines long forgotten came back to her, and in whatminuteness, and how vividly! It appeared to her that she could not go onfast enough; her emotion gained upon her until she became quite hysterical;in turning feverishly over some papers a withered pansy floated into herlap. Tears started to her eyes, and she pressed the poor little flower, forgotten so long, to her lips. She could not remember when she gatheredit, but it had come to her. Her lips quivered, the light seemed to begrowing dark, and a sudden sense of misery eclipsed her happiness, andunable to restrain herself any longer, she burst into a tumultuous storm ofsobs. 

But after having cried for a few minutes her passion subsided, and shewiped the tears from her hands and face, and, smiling at herself, shecontinued her search. Everything belonging to that time interested her, verses and faded flowers; but her thoughts were especially centred on anold copybook in which she kept the fragments of poetry that used to strikeher fancy at the moment. When she came upon it her heart beat quicker, andwith mild sentiments of regret she read through the slips of newspaper;they were all the same, but as long as anyone was spoken of as being thenearest and the dearest Kate was satisfied. Even the bonbon mottoes, ofwhich there were large numbers, drew from her the deepest sighs. The littleCupid firing at a target in the shape of a heart, with 'Tom Smith & Co. , London, ' printed in small letters underneath, did not prevent her fromsharing the sentiment expressed in the lines:

 'Let this cracker, torn asunder, Be an emblem of my heart; And as we have shared the plunder, Pray you of my love take part. '

Sitting on the floor, with one hand leaning on the open trunk, she read, letting her thoughts drift through past scenes and sensations. All was faraway; and she turned over the relics that the past had thrown up on theshore of the present without seeing any connection between them and theneeds of the moment until she lit on the following verses:

 'Wearily I'm waiting for you, For your absence watched in vain Ask myself the hopeless question, Will he ever come again?

 'All these years, am I forgotten? Or in absence are you true? Oh, my darling, 'tis so lonely, Watching, waiting here for you!

 'Has your heart from its allegiance Turned to greet a fairer face? Have you welcomed in another Charms you missed in me, and grace?

 'Long, long years I have been waiting, Bearing up against my pain; All my thoughts and vows have vanished, Will they ever come again?

 'Yes, for woman's faith ne'er leaves her, And my trust outweighs my fears; And I still will wait his coming, Though it may not be for years. '

As the deer, when he believes he has eluded the hounds, leaves the burningplains and plunges into the cool woodland water, Kate bathed her tiredsoul, letting it drink its fill of this very simple poem. The sentimentcame to her tenderly, through the weak words; and melting with joy, sherepeated them over and over again. 

At last her sad face lit up with a smile. It had occurred to her to sendthe poem that gave her so much pleasure to Dick. It would make him think ofher when he was far away; it would tell him that she had not forgotten him. The idea pleased her so much that it did not occur to her to think if shewould be doing wrong in sending these verses to her lodger, and withrenewed ardour and happiness she continued her search among her books. There was no question in her mind as to which she would read, and sheanticipated hours of delight in tracing resemblances between herself andthe lady who used to read Byron and Shelley to her aristocratic lover. Shefeared at first she had lost this novel, but when it was discovered it wasput aside for immediate use. The next that came under her hand was thestory of a country doctor. In this instance the medical hero had poisonedone sister to whom he was secretly married in order that he might wed asecond. Kate at first hesitated, but remembering that there was anelopement, with a carriage overturned in a muddy lane, she decided uponlooking it through again. Another book related the love of a young lady whofound herself in the awkward predicament of not being able to care foranyone but her groom, who was lucky enough to be the possessor of the mostwonderful violet eyes. The fourth described the distressing position of ayoung clergyman who, when he told the lady of his choice that his means forthe moment did not admit of his taking a wife, was answered that it did notmatter, for in the meantime she was quite willing to be his mistress. Thisdevotion and self-sacrifice touched Kate so deeply that she was forced topause in her search to consider how those who have loved much are forgiven. But at this moment Mrs. Ede entered. 

'Oh, Kate, what are you doing?'

Although the question was asked in an intonation of voice affecting to beone of astonishment only, there was nevertheless in it an accent of reproofthat was especially irritating to Kate in her present mood. A deaf angeragainst her mother-in-law's interference oppressed her, but getting thebetter of it, she said quietly, though somewhat sullenly:

'You always want to know what I'm doing! I declare, one can't turn roundbut you're after me, just like a shadow. '

'What you say is unjust, Kate, ' replied the old woman warmly. 'I'm sure Inever pry after you. '

'Well, anyhow, there it is: I'm looking out for a book to read in theevenings, if you want to know. '

'I thought you'd given up reading those vain and sinful books; they can'tdo you any good. '

'What harm can they do me?'

'They turn your thoughts from Christ. I've looked into them to see that Imay not be speaking wrongly, and I've found them nothing but vain accountsof the world and its worldliness. I didn't read far, but what I saw was alot of excusing of women who couldn't love their husbands, and much sighingafter riches and pleasure. I thanked God you'd given over such things. Ibelieved your heart was turned towards Him. Now it grieves me bitterly tosee I was mistaken. '

'I don't know what you mean. Ralph never said that there was any harm in myreading tales. '

'Ah! Ralph, I'm afraid, has never set a good example. I wouldn't blame him, for he's my own son, but I'd wish to see him not prizing so highly thethings of the world. '

'We must live, though, ' Kate answered, without quite understanding what shesaid. 

'Live--of course we have to live; but it depends how we live and what welive for--whether it be to indulge the desires of the flesh, the desire ofthe eye, or to regain the image of God, to have the design of God againplanted in our souls. This is what we should live for, and it is only thusthat we shall find true happiness. '

Though these were memories of phrases heard in the pulpit, they wereuttered by Mrs. Ede with a fervour, with a candour of belief, that tookfrom them any appearance of artificiality; and Kate did not notice that hermother-in-law was using words that were not habitual to her. 

'But what do you want me to do?' said Kate, who began to feel frightened. 

'To go to Christ, to love Him. He is all we have to help us, and they wholove Him truly are guided as to how to live righteously. Whether we eat ordrink, or whatever we do, it springs from or leads to the love of God andman. '

These words stirred Kate to her very entrails; a sudden gush of feelingbrought the tears to her eyes, and she was on the point of throwing herselfinto Mrs. Ede's arms. 

The temptation to have a good cry was almost irresistible, and the burdenof her pent-up emotions was more than she could bear. But communing thewhile rapidly within herself, she hesitated, until an unexpected turn ofthought harshly put it before her that she was being made a fool of--thatshe had a perfect right to look through her books and poetry, and thatHender's sneers were no more than she deserved for allowing a mother-in-lawto bully her. Then the tears of sorrow became those of anger, and strivingto speak as rudely as she could, she said:

'I don't talk about Christ as much as you, but He judges us by our heartsand not by our words. You would do well to humble yourself before you cometo preach to others. '

'Dear Kate, it's because I see you interested in things that have noconcern with God's love that I speak to you so. A man who never knows athought of God has been staying here, and I fear he has led you----'

At these words Kate threw the last papers into the trunk, pushed it away, and turned round fiercely. 

'Led me into what? What do you mean? Mr. Lennox was here because Ralphwished him to be here. I think that you should know better than to say suchthings. I don't deserve it. '

On this Kate left the room, her face clouded and trembling with a passionthat she did not quite feel. To just an appreciable extent she wasconscious that it suited her convenience to quarrel with her mother-in-law. She was tired of the life she was leading; her whole heart was in hernovels and poetry; and, determined to take in the _London Reader_ or_Journal_, she called back to Mrs. Ede that she was going to consultRalph on the matter. 

He was in capital spirits. The affairs in the shop were going on moresatisfactorily than usual, a fact which he did not fail to attribute to hissuperior commercial talents. 'A business like theirs went to the bad, ' hedeclared, 'when there wasn't a man to look after it. Women liked beingattended to by one of the other sex, ' and beaming with artificial smiles, the little man measured out yards of ribbon, and suggested 'that they had avery superior thing in the way of petticoats just come from Manchester. 'His health was also much improved, so much so that his asthmatic attackseemed to have done him good. A little colour flushed his cheeks around theedges of the thick beard. In the evenings after supper, when the shop wasclosed, an hour before they went up to prayers, he would talk of the saleshe had made during the day, and speak authoritatively of the possibilitiesof enlarging the business. His ambition was to find someone in London whowould forward them the latest fashions; somebody who would be clever enoughto pick out and send them some stylish but simple dress that Kate couldcopy. He would work the advertisements, and if the articles were well setin the window he would answer for the rest. The great difficulty was, ofcourse, the question of frontage, and Mr. Ede's face grew grave as hethought of his little windows. 'Nothing, ' he said, 'can be done withoutplate-glass; five hundred pounds would buy out the fruit-seller, and throwthe whole place into one'; and Kate, interested in all that wasimaginative, would raise her eyes from the pages of her book and ask ifthere was no possibility of realizing this grand future. 

She was reading a novel full of the most singular and exciting scenes. Init she discovered a character who reminded her of her husband, a courtierat the Court of Louis XIV. , who said sharp things, and often made himselfdisagreeable, but there was something behind that pleased, and under theinfluence of this fancy she began to find new qualities in Ralph, theexistence of which she had not before suspected. Sometimes the thoughtstruck her that if he had been always like what he was now she would haveloved him better, and listening to a dispute which had arisen between himand his mother regarding the purchase of the fruiterer's premises, hersmile deepened, and then, the humour of the likeness continuing to tickleher, she burst out laughing. 

'What are you laughing at, Kate?' said her husband, looking admiringly ather pretty face. Mrs. Ede sternly continued her knitting, but Ralph seemedso pleased, and begged so good-naturedly to be told what the matter was, that the temptation to do so grew irresistible. 

'You won't be angry if I tell you?'

'Angry, no. Why should I be angry?'

'You promise?'

'Yes, I promise, ' replied Ralph, extremely curious. 

'Well then, there is a cha-cha-rac-ter so--so like----'

'Oh, if you want to tell me, don't laugh like that. I can't hear a wordyou're saying. '

'Oh it is so--so--so like----'

'Yes, but do stop laughing and tell me. '

At last Kate had to stop laughing for want of breath, and she said, hervoice still trembling:

'Well, there's a fellow in this book--you promise not to be angry?'

'Oh yes, I promise. '

'Well, then, there's someone in this book that does remind me so much--ofyou--that is to say, when you're cross, not as you are now. '

At this announcement Mrs. Ede looked up in astonishment, and she seemed ashurt as if Kate had slapped her in the face, whereas Ralph's face lightedup, his smile revealing through the heavy moustache the gap between hisfront teeth which had been filled with some white substance. Kate alwaysnoticed it with aversion, but Ralph, who was not susceptible to femininerevulsions of feelings, begged her to read the passage, and with aneagerness that surprised his mother. Without giving it a second thought shebegan, but she had not read half a dozen words before Mrs. Ede had gatheredup her knitting and was preparing to leave the room. 

'Oh, mother, don't go! I assure you there's no harm. '

'Leave her alone. I'm sick of all this nonsense about religion. I shouldlike to know what harm we're doing, ' said Ralph. 

Kate made a movement to rise, but he laid his hand upon her arm, and amoment after Mrs. Ede was gone. 

'Oh, do let me go and fetch her, ' exclaimed Kate. 'I shouldn't--I know Ishouldn't read these books. It pains her so much to see me wasting my time. She must be right. '

'There's no right about it; she'd bully us all if she had her way. Do bequiet, Kate! Do as I tell you, and let's hear the story. '

Relinquishing another half-hearted expostulation which rose to her lips, Kate commenced to read. Ralph was enchanted, and, deliciously tickled atthe idea that he was like someone in print, he chuckled under his breath. Soon they came to the part that had struck Kate as being so particularlyappropriate to her husband. It concerned a scene between this asceticcourtier and a handsome, middle-aged widow who frequently gave him tounderstand that her feelings regarding him were of the tenderest kind; buton every occasion he pretended to misunderstand her. The humour of thewhole thing consisted in the innocence of the lady, who fancied she had notexplained herself sufficiently; and harassed with this idea, she pursuedthe courtier from the Court hall into the illuminated gardens, and theretold him, and in language that admitted of no doubt, that she wished tomarry him. The courtier was indignant, and answered her so tartly thatKate, even in reading it over a second time, could not refrain from fits oflaughter. 

'It is--is so--s-o like what you w-wo-uld say if a wo-wo-man were tofol-low you, ' she said, with the tears rolling down her cheeks. 

'Is it really?' asked Ralph, joining in the laugh, although in a way thatdid not seem to be very genuine. The fact was that he felt just a littlepiqued at being thought so indifferent to the charms of the other sex, andlooked at his wife for a moment or two in a curious sort of way, trying tothink how he should express himself. At last he said:

'I'm sure that if it was my own Kate who was there I shouldn't answer socrossly. '

Kate ceased laughing, and looked up at him so suddenly that she increasedhis embarrassment; but the remembrance that he was after all only speakingto his wife soon came to his aid, and confidentially he sat down beside heron the sofa. Her first impulse was to draw away from him--it was so longsince he had spoken to her thus. 

'Could you never love me again if I were very kind to you?'

'Of course I love you, Ralph. '

'It wasn't my fault if I was ill--one doesn't feel inclined to love anyonein illness. Give me a kiss, dear. '

A recollection of how she had kissed Dick flashed across her mind, but inan instant it was gone; and bending her head, she laid her lips to herhusband's. It in no way disgusted her to do so; she was glad of theoccasion, and was only surprised at the dull and obtuse anxiety sheexperienced. They then spoke of indifferent things, but the flow ofconversation was often interrupted by complimentary phrases. While Ralphdiscoursed on his mother's nonsense in always dragging religion intoeverything, Kate congratulated him on looking so much better; and, as shetold him of the work she would have to get through at all costs beforeFriday, he either squeezed her hand or said that her hair was gettingthicker, longer, and more beautiful than ever. 

* * * * *

Next morning Kate received a letter from Dick, saying he was coming toHanley on his return visit, and hoped that he would be able to have his oldrooms. 

IX

She would have liked to talk to Hender first, but Hender would not arrivefor another hour, and nothing had ever seemed to her so important as thatDick should lodge with them. It was therefore with bated breath that shewaited for Ralph to speak. They could not hope, he said, to find a nicerlodger; the little he had seen of him made him desirous of renewing theacquaintance, and he continued all through breakfast to eulogize Mr. Lennox. His mother, whose opinions were attacked, sat munching her breadand butter with indifference. But it was not permitted to anyone to beindifferent to Ralph's wishes, and, determined to resent the impertinence, he derisively asked his mother if she had any objections. 

'You've a right to do what you like with your rooms; but I should like toknow why you so particularly want this actor here. One would think he was adear friend of yours to hear you talk. Is it the ten shillings a week hepays for his room and the few pence you make out of his breakfast you'rehankering after?'

'Of course I want to keep my rooms let. Perhaps you might like to have themyourself; you could have all the clergymen in the town to see you once aweek, and a very nice tea-party you'd make in the sitting-room. ' Nor wasthis all; he continued to badger his mother with the bitterest taunts hecould select. Quite calmly Kate watched him work himself into a passion, until he declared that he had other reasons more important than the tenshillings a week for wishing to have Mr. Lennox staying in the house. Thisstatement caused Kate just a pang of uneasiness, and she begged for anexplanation. Partly to reward her for having backed him up in thediscussion, and through a wish to parade his own far-seeing views, hedeclared that Mr. Lennox might be of great use to them in their littlebusiness if he were so inclined. Kate could not repress a look of triumph;she knew now that nothing would keep him from having Dick in the house. 

'Shall I write to him to-day, then, and say that we can let him have therooms from next Monday?'

'Of course, ' Ralph replied, and Kate went upstairs with Hender, who hadjust come in. The little girls were told to move aside; there was a lot ofcutting to be done; this was said preparatory to telling them a littlelater on that they were too much in the way, and would have to go down andwork in the front kitchen under the superintendence of Mrs. Ede. Hender wasat the machine, but Kate, who had a dressing-gown on order, unrolled theblue silk and fidgeted round the table as if she had not enough room forlaying out her pattern-sheets. Hender noticed these manoeuvres with somesurprise, and when Kate said, 'Now, my dear children, I'm afraid you'revery much in my way; you'd better go downstairs, ' she looked up with theexpression of one who expects to be told a secret. This manifest certitudethat something was coming troubled Kate, and she thought it would be betterafter all to say nothing about Mr. Lennox, but again changing her mind, shesaid, assuming an air of indifference:

'Mr. Lennox will be here on Monday. I've just got a letter from him. '

'Oh, I'm so glad; for perhaps this time it will be possible to have onespree on the strict q. T. '

Kate was thinking of exactly the same thing, but Miss Hender's crudeexpression took the desire out of her heart, and she remained silent. 

'I'm sure it's for you he's coming, ' said the assistant. 'I know he likesyou; I could see it in his eyes. You can always see if a man likes you byhis eyes. '

Although it afforded Kate a great deal of pleasure to think that Dick likedher, it was irritating to hear his feelings for her discussed; she couldnot forget she was a married woman, and she began to regret that she evermentioned the subject at all, when Miss Hender said:

'But what's the use of his coming if you can't get out? A man alwaysexpects a girl to be able to go out with him. The "hag" is sure to beabout, and even if you did manage to give her the slip, there's yourhusband. Lord! I hadn't thought of that before. What damned luck! Don't youwish he'd get ill again? Another fit of asthma would suit us down to theground. '

The blood rushed to Kate's face, and snapping nervously with the scissorsin the air, she said:

'I don't know how you can bring yourself to speak in that way. How can youthink that I would have my husband ill so that I might go to the theatrewith Mr. Lennox? What do you fancy there is between us that makes you saysuch a thing as that?'

'Oh, I really don't know, ' Miss Hender answered with a toss of her head;'if you're going to be hoighty-toighty I've done. '

Kate thought it very provoking that Hender could never speak exceptcoarsely, and it would have given her satisfaction to have said somethingsharp, but she had let Hender into a good many of her secrets, and it wouldbe most inconvenient to have her turn round on her. Not, indeed, that shesupposed she'd be wicked enough to do anything of the kind, but still----

And influenced by these considerations, Kate determined not to quarrel withHender, but to avoid speaking to her of Dick. Even with her own people shemaintained an attitude of shy reserve until Dick arrived, declining on alloccasions to discuss the subject, whether with her husband ormother-in-law. 'I don't care whether he comes or not; decide your quarrelsas you like, I've had enough of them, ' was her invariable answer. This airof indifference ended by annoying Ralph, but she was willing to do that ifit saved her from being forced into expressing an opinion--that was thegreat point; for with a woman's instinct she had already divined that shewould not be left out of the events of the coming week. But there was stillanother reason. She was a little ashamed of her own treachery. Otherwiseher conscience did not trouble her; it was crushed beneath a weight ofdesire and expectancy, and for three or four days she moved about the housein a dream. When she met her husband on the stairs and he joked her aboutthe roses in her cheeks, she smiled curiously, and begged him to let herpass. In the workroom she was happy, for the mechanical action of sewingallowed her to follow the train of her dreams, and drew the attention ofthose present away from her. She had tried her novels, but now the mostexciting failed to fix her thoughts. The page swam before her eyes, aconfusion of white and black dots, the book would fall upon her lap in afew minutes, and she would relapse again into thinking of what Dick wouldsay to her, and of the hours that still separated them. On Sunday, withoutknowing why, she insisted on attending all the services. Ralph in no waycared for this excessive devotion, and he proposed to take her for a walkin the afternoon, but she preferred to accompany Mrs. Ede to church. Itloosened the tension of her thoughts to raise her voice in the hymns, andthe old woman's gabble was pleasant to listen to on their way home--a sortof meaningless murmur in her ears while she was thinking of Dick, whom shemight meet on the doorstep. It was, however, his portmanteau that theycaught sight of in the passage when they opened the door. Ralph had takenit in; Lennox said that he had a lot of business to do with the actingmanager, and would not return before they went up to prayers. Still Katedid not lose hope, and on the off chance that he might feel tired after hisjourney, and come home earlier than he expected, she endeavoured to prolongthe conversation after supper. By turns she spoke to Mrs. Ede of thesermons of the day, and to Ralph of the possibilities of enlarging theshop-front. But when she was forced to hear how the actor was to send themthe new fashions from London, the old lady grew restive, as did Ralph whenthe conversation turned on the relative merits of the morning and afternoonsermon. It was the old story of the goat and the cabbage--each is uneasy inthe other's company; and even before the usual time mother and son agreedthat it would be better to say prayers and get to bed. 

Kate would have given anything to see Dick that night, and she lay awakefor hours listening for the sound of the well-known heavy footstep. At lastit came, tramp, tramp, a dull, heavy, noisy flapping through the silence ofthe house. She trembled, fearing that he would mistake the door and comeinto their room; if he did, she felt she would die of shame. The footstepsapproached nearer, nearer; her husband was snoring loudly, and, casting aglance at him, she wondered if she should have time to push the bolt to. But immediately after, Dick stumbled up the stairs into his room, and, hugging the thought that he was again under her roof, she fell to dreamingof their meeting in the morning, wondering if it would befall her to meethim on the stairs or in the shop face to face, or if she would catch sightof him darting out of the door hurrying to keep an appointment which he hadalready missed. Mrs. Ede usually took in the lodger's hot water, it notbeing considered quite right for Kate to go into a gentleman's room when hewas in bed. But the next morning Mrs. Ede was out and Ralph was asleep, sothere was nothing for it but to fill the jug. 

Dick heard the door open, but didn't trouble to look round, thinking it wasMrs. Ede, and Kate glided to the washhandstand and put down the jug in thebasin. But the clink of the delf caused him to look round. 

'Oh, is that you, Kate?' he said, brushing aside with a wave of his barearm his frizzly hair. 'I didn't expect to see so pretty a sight first thingin the morning. And how have you been?'

'I'm very well, thank you, sir, ' Kate replied, retreating. 

'Well, I don't see why you should run away like that. What have I done tooffend you? You know, ' he said, lowering his voice to a confidentialwhisper, 'I didn't write to you about the poetry you sent me (at least, Isuppose it was from you, it had the Hanley post-mark; if it wasn't, I'llburn it), because I was afraid that your old mother or your husband mightget hold of my letter. '

'I must go away now, sir; your hot water is there, ' she said, lookingtowards the door, which was ajar. 

'But tell me, wasn't it you who sent me the verses? I have them here, and Ibrought you a little something--I won't tell you what--in return. '

'I can't talk to you now, ' said Kate, casting on him one swift glance ofmingled admiration and love. Although somewhat inclined to corpulence, hewas a fine man, and looked a tower of strength as he lay tossed back on thepillows, his big arms and thick brown throat bare. A flush rose to hercheeks when he said that he had brought her a little something; all thesame, it was impossible to stop talking to him now, and hoping to make himunderstand her position, raising her voice, she said:

'And what can I get you for breakfast, sir? Would you like an omelette?'

'Oh, I shan't be able to wait for breakfast; I have to be up at our actingmanager's by nine o'clock. What time is it now?'

'I think it's just going the half-hour, sir. '

'Oh, then, I've lots of time yet, ' replied Dick, settling himself in a waythat relieved Kate of all apprehension that he was going to spring outbefore her on the floor. 

'Then shall I get you breakfast, sir?'

'No, thanks, I shan't have time for that; I shall have something to eat upat Hayes'. But tell me, is there anyone listening?' he said, lowering hisvoice again. 'I want to speak to you now particularly, for I'm afraid Ishall be out all day. '

Afraid that her husband might overhear her, Kate made a sign in thenegative, and whispered, 'Tomorrow at breakfast. '

Although the thought that he had a present for her delighted her all day, Kate was not satisfied; for there had been something pretty, somethingcoquettish associated in her mind with carrying in his breakfast tray(doubtless a remembrance of the ribbon-bedecked chambermaids she had readof in novels), which was absent in the more menial office of taking in hishot water. Besides, had he not told her that he was going to be out allday? Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday she had dotted over with little plans;Thursday and Friday she knew nothing of. Saturday? Well, there was just apossibility that he might kiss her before going away. She felt irritatedwith herself for this thought, but could not rid herself of it; a bittersense of voluptuousness burnt at the bottom of her heart, and she railedagainst life sullenly. She had missed him on Sunday; Monday had ended asabruptly as an empty nut, and Hender's questions vexed and wearied her; shedespaired of being able to go to the theatre. Nothing seemed to be goingright. Even the little gold earrings which Dick took out of a velvet caseand wanted to put into her ears only added a bitterer drop to her cup. Allshe could do was to hide them away where no one could find them. Ittortured her to have to tell him that she could not wear them, and the kissthat he would ask for, and she could not refuse, seemed only a mockery. Hewas going away on Sunday, and this time she did not know when he wouldreturn. In addition to all these disappointments, she found herself obligedto go for a long walk on Tuesday afternoon to see a lady who had written toher about a dress. She did not get home until after six, and then it wasonly to learn that Mr. Lennox had been about the house all day, idling andtalking to Ralph in the shop, and that they had gone off to the theatretogether. Mrs. Ede was more than indignant, and when the little man wasbrought home at night, speaking painfully in little short gasps, shedeclared that it was a judgment upon him. 

Next day he was unable to leave his room. When Dick was told what hadhappened he manifested much concern, and insisted on seeing the patient. Indeed, the sympathy he showed was so marked that Kate at first was temptedto doubt its sincerity. But she was wrong. Dick was truly sorry for poorRalph, and he sat a long time with him, thinking what could be done torelieve him. He laid all the blame at his own door. He ought never to havekept a person liable to such a disease out so late at night. There was aparticular chair in which Ralph always sat when he was affected with hisasthma. It had a rail on which he could place his feet, and thus lift oneknee almost on to a level with his chest; and in this position, his head onhis hand, he would remain for hours groaning and wheezing. Dick watched himwith an expression of genuine sorrow on his big face; and it was so clearthat he regretted what he had done that for a moment even Mrs. Ede's heartsoftened towards him. But the thaw was only momentary; she froze again intostone when he remarked that it was a pity that Mr. Ede was ill, for theywere going to play _Madame Angot_ on Thursday night, and he would likethem all to come. The invitation flattered Ralph's vanity, and, resolvednot to be behindhand in civility, he declared between his gasps that no oneshould be disappointed on his account; he would feel highly complimented byMr. Lennox's taking Mrs. Ede to the play; and on the spot it was arrangedthat Kate and Miss Hender should go together on Thursday night to see_Madame Angot_. 

Kate murmured that she would be very pleased, and alluding to some workwhich had to be finished, she returned to the workroom to tell Hender thenews. 

'That's the best bit of news I've heard in this house for some time, 'Hender said. 

Kate felt she could not endure another disappointment. All that wasrequired of her now was to assume an air of indifference, and take care notto betray herself to Mrs. Ede, whom she suspected of watching her. But herexcitement rendered her nervous, and she found the calm exterior she was sodesirous of imposing on herself difficult to maintain. The uncertainty ofher husband's temper terrified her. It was liable at any moment to change, and on the night in question he might order her not to leave the house. Ifso, she asked herself if she would have the courage to disobey him. Theanswer slipped from her: it was impossible for her to fix her attention onanything; and although she had a press of work on her hands, she availedherself of every occasion to escape to the kitchen, where she might talk toLizzie and Annie about the play, and explain to them the meaning of theposter, that she now understood thoroughly. Their childish looks andquestions soothed the emotions that were burning within her. 

Thursday morning especially seemed interminable, but at last thelong-watched clock on their staircase struck the wished-for hour, and stillsettling their bonnet-strings, Kate and Hender strolled in the direction ofthe theatre. The evening was dry and clear, and over an embrasure of thehills beyond Stoke the sun was setting in a red and yellow mist. Thestreets were full of people; and where Piccadilly opens into themarket-place, groups and couples of factory girls were eagerly talking, some stretching forward in a pose that showed the nape of the neck and anear; others, graver of face, walking straight as reeds with their hands ontheir hips, the palms flat, and the fingers half encircling the narrowwaists. 

'You must be glad to get out. ' Hender said. 'To be cooped up in the way youare! I couldn't stand it. '

'Well, you see, I can enjoy myself all the more when I do get out. '

Kate would have liked to answer more tartly, but on second thoughts shedecided it was not worth while. It bored her to be reminded of the humdrumlife she led, and she had come to feel ashamed that she had been to thetheatre only twice in her life, especially when it was mentioned in Dick'spresence. 

'We're too soon, ' said Hender, breaking in jauntily on Kate's reflections;'the doors aren't open yet. '

'I can see that. '

'But what are you so cross about?' asked Hender, who was not aware of whatwas passing in her employer's mind. 

'I'm not cross. But how long shall we have to wait? Mr. Lennox said he'dmeet us here, didn't he?'

'Oh, he can't be long now, for here comes Wentworth with the keys to openthe doors. '

The street they were in branched to the right and left rectangularly;opposite were large flat walls, red in colour, and roofed like a barn, andbefore one black doorway some fifty or sixty people had collected. Themanager pushed his way through the crowd, and soon after, like a snake intoa hole, the line began to disappear. Hender explained that this was the wayto the pit, and what Kate took for a cellar was the stage entrance. A youngman with a big nose, whom she recognized as Mr. Montgomery, stared at themas he passed; then came two ladies--Miss Leslie and Miss Beaumont. Dickdid not appear for some time after, but at last the big hat was seen comingalong. Although, as usual, in a great hurry, he was apparently much pleasedto see them, and he offered Kate his arm and conducted her across thestreet into the theatre. 

'You're a bit early, you know. The curtain doesn't go up for half an houryet, ' he said, as they ascended a high flight of steps, at the top of whichsat a woman with tickets in her hand. 

'We were afraid of being too late. '

'It was very good of you to come. I hope you'll have a pleasant evening; itwould be quite a treat to act when you were in the house. '

'But aren't you going to act, sir?'

'You mustn't call me sir; everybody calls me Dick, and I don't know anyonewho has a better right to do so than you. '

'But aren't you going to act, Di--? I can't say it. '

'I don't call it acting. I come on in the first act. I just do that to savethe salary, for you know I have an interest in the tour. '

Kate had no idea as to what was meant by having 'an interest in the tour, 'and she did not ask, fearing to waste her present happiness in questions. Her attention was so concentrated on the big man by her side that shescarcely knew she was in a theatre, and had as yet perceived neither thestar-light nor the drop-curtain. Dick spoke to her of herself and ofhimself, but he said nothing that recalled any of the realities of herlife, and when he suddenly lifted his hand from hers and whispered, 'Herecomes Miss Hender: we mustn't appear too intimate before her, ' sheexperienced the sensation of one awaking out of a most delicious dream. 

Hender cast a last retort at the two men with whom she was chaffing, and, descending through the chairs, said:

'Mr. Lennox, you're wanted behind. '

Dick promised to see them again when the act was over, and hastened away, and Hender, settling herself in her chair, looked at Kate in a way whichsaid as distinctly as words, 'Well, my young woman, you do go it whenyou're out on the loose. ' But she refrained from putting her thoughts intowords, possibly because she feared to turn her mistress from what sheconsidered, too obviously, indeed, to be the right path. 

They were sitting in the middle division of a gallery divided into threeparts, where the twilight was broken by the yellow-painted backs of thechairs, and where a series of mirrors, framed in black wood, decorated thewalls, reflecting monotonously different small corners of the house. 

Only a dozen or fifteen people had as yet come in, and they moved aboutlike melancholy shades; or, when sitting still, seemed like ink-spots on adark background. 

The two women looked down into the great pit, through which the crowd wasrolling in one direction, a sort of human tide, a vague tumult in whichlittle was distinguishable; a bald head or a bunch of yellow flowers in awoman's bonnet flashed through the darkness for an instant like the crestof a wave. A dozen pale jets of a miserable iron gas-fitting hanging out ofthe shadows of the roof struggled in the gloom, leaving the outlines of theMuses above the proscenium as undefinable as the silhouettes of theshopkeepers in the pit. Over against the shopkeepers was the drop-curtain, the centre of which contained a romantic picture intended to prepare thespectators for the play soon to begin. Kate admired the lake, and duringthe long interval it seemed to her bluer and more beautiful than any shehad ever seen. Along the shores there were boats with sailors hoistingsails, and she began to wonder what was the destination of these boats, ifthe sailors were leaving their sweethearts or setting forth to regain them. 

It seemed to Kate that the play was never going to begin, so long had shebeen kept waiting. She did not consult Hender, but possessed her soul inpatience till a thin young man came up from under the stage, pushing hisglasses higher on his beak-like nose. He took his place on the high stool;he squared his shoulders; looked around; waved his stick. The sparklingmarriage chorus, with the fanciful peasants and the still more fancifulbridegroom in silk, the bright appearance of Clairette at the window, andthe sympathy awakened by her love for the devil-may-care revolutionary poetseduced Kate like a sensual dream; and in all she saw and felt there was amingled sense of nearness and remoteness, an extraordinary concentration, and an absence of her own proper individuality. Never had she heard suchmusic. How suave it was compared with the austere and regular rhythm of thehymns she sang in church! The gay tripping measure of the market-woman'ssong filled her with visions and laughter. There was an accent ofinsincerity in the serenade that troubled her as a sudden cloud might thedreams of the most indolent of _lazzaroni_, but the beseeching passionof the duet revealed to her sympathies for parting lovers that even herfavourite poetry had been unable to do. All her musical sensibilitiesrushed to her head like wine; it was only by a violent effort, full ofacute pain, that she saved herself from raising her voice with those of thesingers, and dreading a giddiness that might precipitate her into the pit, she remained staring blindly at the stage. 

Her happiness would have been complete, if such violent emotions can becalled happiness, had it not been for Hender. This young person, actuatedprobably by a desire of displaying her knowledge, could not be preventedfrom talking. As each actor or actress entered she explained their positionin the company, and all she knew of their habits in private life. Mr. Mortimer's dispute the other night with Bill, the scene-shifter, necessitated quite a little tirade against drunkenness, and as it wasnecessary to tell of what had been said in the ladies' dressing-room, adescription of Miss Beaumont's underclothing was introduced; it was veryelegant--silk stockings and lace-trimmed chemises; whereas Miss Leslie'swas declared to be much plainer. Once or twice Hender was asked to keepquiet, but Kate did not much mind. The thunder of applause which rose froma pit filled with noisy factory boys and girls was accepted in good faith, and it floated through her mind, elevating and exciting her emotions as theroar of the breakers on the shore does the dreams of a dreamer. But thestar she was expecting had not yet appeared. She had seen Miss Leslie, MissBeaumont, Joe Mortimer, and Frank Bret, and numberless other people, whohad appeared in all sorts of dresses and had sung all kinds of enchantingsongs, but Dick was nowhere to be found. She had searched vainly for him inthe maze of colour that was being flashed before her eyes. Would he appearas a king, a monk, a shepherd, or would he wear a cocked hat? She did notknow, and was too bewildered to think. She had a dim notion that he woulddo something wonderful, set everything to rights, that they would all bowdown before him when he entered, and she watched every motion of the crowd, expecting it every moment to make way for him. But he did not appear, andat last they all went away singing. Her heart sank within her, but justwhen she had begun to lose hope, two men rushed across the stage andcommenced to spy about and make plans. At first Kate did not recognize herlover, so completely was he disguised, but soon the dreadful truthcommenced to dawn upon her. Oh, misery! Oh, horror! How could this be? Andshe closed her eyes to shut out her dreadful disappointment. Why had hedone this thing? She had expected a king, and had found a policeman. 

'There he is, there he is!' whispered Hender. 'Don't you see, 'tis he whodoes the policeman? A French policeman! He drags the bride away at the endof the act, you know. '

Poor Kate felt very unhappy indeed. Her fanciful house of cards had fallendown and crushed her under the ruins. She felt she could no longer take aninterest in anything. The rest of the act was torture to her. What pleasurecould it be to her to see her lover, looking hideous, drag a bride awayfrom her intended?

Kate wished that her lover had not chosen to act such a part, and she felt, dimly, perhaps, but intensely, that it was incongruous of him to exhibithimself to her as a policeman who at the end of the act dragged the brideaway from her intended. And she could not understand why he should havechosen, if he loved her, to dress himself in such very unbecoming clothes. She thought she would like to run out of the theatre, but that wasimpossible. But when Dick came to her at the fall of the curtain and satdown by her side she forgot all about the foreign policeman; he was Dickagain. 

'How did you like the piece, dear?'

'Very much. ' It was on her tongue to ask him why he had chosen to play thepoliceman, but all that was over; why should she trouble him withquestions? Yet the question in her mind betrayed itself, for, laying hishand affectionately on hers, he said that he felt that something hadhappened. Hender, who had seen Dick take Kate's hand, thought that this wasa moment for her to escape, but Kate begged of her to stay. Hender, however, feeling that her absence would be preferable to her company, mentioned that she must go; she had to speak to the manager on somebusiness which she had forgotten till now. 

'Why did you want her to stay?' said Dick, 'don't you like being alone withme?' Kate answered him with a look, wondering all the while what could haveinduced him to play the part of that ugly policeman. 'I'm sure you didn'tlike the piece, ' he continued, 'and yet I must say from behind it seemed togo very well; but then, there are so many things you miss from the wings. '

Kate understood nothing of what he said, but seeing that he was terriblysincere, and fearing to pain him, she hastened to give the piece herunqualified approbation. 

'I assure you I couldn't have liked anything more--the music was sopretty. '

'And how did you think I looked? It's only a small part, you know, but atthe same time it requires to be played. If there isn't some go put into itthe finale all goes to pot. '

Now Kate felt sure he was quizzing her, and at length she said, the desireto speak her mind triumphing over her shyness, 'But why did you makeyourself look like that? It wasn't a nice part, was it?'

'It's only a trumpery bit of a thing, but it is better for me to take itthan have another salary on the list. In the next act, you know, I come onas the Captain of the Guard. '

'And will that be nice?' Kate asked, her face flushing at the idea ofseeing her lover in a red coat. 

'Oh yes, it looks well enough, but it isn't an acting part. I'm only on fora few minutes. I'm only supposed to come on in search of the conspirators. I take a turn or two of the waltz with Miss Beaumont, who plays Lange, andit's all over. Have you ever heard the waltz?' Kate never had; so, drawingher close to him, he sang the soft flowing melody in her ear. In hernervousness she squeezed his hand passionately, and this encouraged him tosay, 'How I wish it were you that I had to dance with! How nice it would beto hold you in my arms! Would you like to be in my arms?'

Kate looked at him appealingly; but nothing more was said, and soon afterDick remembered he had to get the stage ready for the second act. As hehurried away, Hender appeared. She had been round to the 'pub. ' to have adrink with Bill, and had been behind talking to her ladies, who, as shesaid, 'were all full of Dick's new mash. '

'They've seen you, and are as jealous as a lot of cats. '

'It's very wicked of them to say there's anything between Mr. Lennox andme, ' replied Kate angrily. 'I suppose they think everybody is likethemselves--a lot of actresses!'

Hender made no answer, but she turned up her nose at what she considered tobe damned insulting to the profession. 

However, in a few minutes her indignation evaporated, and she called Kate'sattention to what a splendid house it was. 

'I can tell you what; with a shilling pit, a sixpenny gallery, and thecentre and side circles pretty well full, it soon runs up. There must benigh on seventy pounds in--and that for Thursday night!'

They were now well on in the second act. The brilliancy of the 'Choeur desMerveilleuses, ' the pleading pity of 'She is such a simple little thing, 'the quaint drollery of the conspirators, made Kate forget the aspersionscast on Clairette's character. The light music foamed in her head likechampagne, and in a whirling sense of intoxication a vision of Dick in ared coat passed and repassed before her. For this she had to wait a longtime, but at last the sounds of trumpets were heard, and those on the stagecried that the soldiers were coming. Kate's heart throbbed, a mist swambefore her eyes, and immediately after came a sense of bright calm; for, inall the splendour of uniform, Dick entered, big and stately, at the head ofa regiment of girls in red tights. The close-fitting jacket had reduced hissize, the top-boots gave a dignity to his legs. He was doubtless a fineman; to Kate he was more than divine. Then the sweet undulating tune he hadsung in her ears began, and casting a glance of explanation in thedirection of the gallery, he put his arm round Miss Beaumont's waist. Theaction caused Kate a heart-pang, but the strangeness of the scene she waswitnessing distracted her thoughts. For immediately the other actors andactresses in their startling dresses selected partners, and the stageseemed transformed into a wonderful garden of colour swinging to the musicof a fountain that, under the inspiration of the moonlight, broke from itsmonotonous chant into rhythmical variations. Dick, like a great tulip inhis red uniform, turned in the middle, and Miss Beaumont, in her longyellow dress, sprawled upon him. Her dress was open at both sides, and eachtime she passed in front, Kate, filled with disgust, strove not to see thethick pink legs, which were visible to the knees. Miss Leslie in herbride's dress bloomed a lily white, as she danced with a man whose redcalves and thighs seemed prolonged into his very chest. La Rivodière castdespairing glances at Lange, poor Pomponet strove to get to his bride, andall the blonde wigs and black collars of the conspirators were mixed amidthe strange poke bonnets of the ladies, and the long swallow-tailed coats, reaching almost to the ground, flapped in and out of the legs of the femalesoldiers. Kate smiled feebly and drank in the music of the waltz. It wasplayed over again; like a caged canary's song it haunted Clairette'sorange-blossoms; like the voluptuous thrill of a nightingale singing in arose-garden it flowed about Lange's heavy draperies and glistening bosom;like the varied chant of the mocking bird it came from under Ange Pitou'scocked hat. It was sung separately and in unison, and winding and unwindingitself, it penetrated into the deepest recesses of Kate's mind. It seducedlike a deep slow perfume; it caressed with the long undulations of abeautiful snake and the mystery of a graceful cat; it whispered of fairpleasure places, where scent, music, and love are one, where lovers nevergrow weary, and where kisses endure for ever. She was conscious of deepself-contentment, of dreamy idleness, of sad languor, and the charm towhich she abandoned herself resembled the enervations of a beautifulclimate, the softness of a church; she yearned for her lover and thefanciful life of which he was the centre, as one might for some idealfatherland. The current of the music carried her far away, far beyond thegreat hills into a land of sleep, dream, and haze, and a wonderfultenderness swam within her as loose and as dim as the green sea depths, that a wave never stirs. She struggled, but it was only as one in a dreamstrives to lift himself out of the power that holds; and when the conductorwaved his stick for the last time, and the curtain came down amid deafeningapplause, irritated and enervated, she shrank from Hender, as if anxiousnot to be wholly awakened. 

The third act passed she scarcely knew how. She was overborne andover-tempted; all her blood seemed to be in her head and heart, and fromtime to time she was shaken with quick shudderings. 

When Dick came to see her she scarcely understood what he said to her, andit annoyed her not to be able to answer him. When the word 'love' waspronounced she smiled, but her smile was one of pain, and she could notrouse herself from a sort of sad ecstasy. Gay as the tunes were, there wasin every one a sort of inherent sadness which she felt but could notexplain to Dick, who began to think that she was disappointed in the piece. 

'Disappointed! Oh no, ' she said, and they stood for a long while staring ata large golden moon, lighting up the street like a bull's-eye. 

'How nice it is to be here out of that hot stuffy theatre!' said Dick, putting his arm round her. 

'Oh, do you think so? I could listen to that music for ever. '

'It is pretty, isn't it? I'm so glad you liked it. I told you the waltz waslovely. '

'Lovely! I should think so. I shall never forget it. '

She lost her habitual shyness in her enthusiasm, and sang the first barswith her face raised towards her lover's; then, gaining courage from hislook of astonishment and pleasure, she gave all the modulations with herfull voice. 

'By Jove! you've a deuced nice soprano, and a devilish good ear too. 'Ponmy soul, you sing that waltz as well as Beaumont. '

'Oh, Dick, you mustn't laugh at me. '

'I swear I'm not laughing. Sing it again; nobody's listening. '

They were standing in the shade of a large warehouse; the line of slatesmaking a crescent of the full moon, and amid the reverberating yards andbrickways Kate's voice sounded as penetrating and direct as a flute. Theexquisite accuracy of her ear enabled her to give each note its just value. Dick was astonished, and he said when she had finished:

'I really don't want to flatter you, but with a little teaching you wouldsing far better than Beaumont. Your ear is perfect; it's the production ofthe voice that wants looking to;' and he talked to her of the differenttunes, listening to what she had to say, and encouraging her to recall themusic she had heard. He would beg her to repeat a phrase after him; hetaught her how to emphasize the rhythm, and was anxious that she shouldlearn the legend of Madame Angot. 

'Now, ' said Dick, 'I'll sing the symphony, and we'll go through it with allthe effects--one, two, three, four, ta ra ta ta ta ta ta. '

But as Kate attacked the first bar it was taken up by three or four malevoices, the owners of which, judging by the sound, could not be more thanforty or fifty yards away. 

'Here's Montgomery, Joe Mortimer, and all that lot. I wouldn't be caughthere with you for anything. '

'By going up this passage we can get home in two minutes. '

'Can we? Well, let's cut; but no, they're too close on us. Do you go, dear;I'll remain and tell them it was a lady singing out of that window. Here, take my latchkey. Off you go. '

Without another word Kate fled down the alley, and Dick was left to explainwhatever he pleased concerning the mythical lady whom he declared he hadbeen serenading. 

When Kate arrived home that night she lay awake for hours, tossingrestlessly, her brain whirling with tunes and parts of tunes. Theconspirators' chorus, the waltz song, the legend, and a dozen disconnectedfragments of the opera all sang together in her ears, and in her insomniashe continued to take singing lessons from Dick. She was certain that heloved her, and the enchantment of her belief murmured in her ears all nightlong; and when she met Hender next morning, the desire to speak of Dickburnt her like a great thirst, and it was not until Hender left her to goto the theatre that she began to realize in all its direct brutality thefact that on the morrow she would have to bid him goodbye, perhaps forever. 

Her husband wheezed on the sofa, her mother-in-law read the Bible, sittingbolt upright in the armchair, and the shaded lamp covered the table withlight, and fearing she might be provoked into shrieks or some violentmanifestation of temper, she went to bed as early as she could. But thereher torments became still more intolerable. All sorts of ideas andhallucinations, magnified and distorted, filled her brain, renderedastonishingly clear by the effects of insomnia. She saw over again themurders she had read of in her novels, and her imagination supplied detailsthe author had not dreamed of. The elopements, with all their paraphernaliaof moonlight and roses, came back to her.... But if she were never to seehim again--if it were her fate to lie beside her husband always, to the endof her life! She buried her head in the pillows in the hopes of shuttingout the sound of his snores. 

At last she felt him moving, and a moment afterwards she heard him say, 'There's Mr. Lennox at the door; he can't get in. Do go down and open itfor him. '

'Why don't you go yourself?' she answered, starting up into a sittingposition. 

'How am I to go? You don't want me to catch my death at the front door?'Ralph replied angrily. 

Kate did not answer, but quickly tying a petticoat about her, and wrappingherself in her dressing-gown, she went downstairs. It was quite dark, andshe had to feel her way along the passage. But at last she found and pulledback the latch, and when the white gleam of moonlight entered she retreatedtimidly behind the door. 

'I'm so sorry, ' said Dick, trying to see who the concealed figure was, 'butI forgot my latchkey. '

'It doesn't matter, ' said Kate. 

'Oh, it's you, dear. I've been trying to get home all day to see you, butcouldn't. Why didn't you come down to the theatre?'

'You know that I can't do as I like. '

'Well, never mind; don't be cross; give me a kiss. '

Kate shrunk back, but Dick took her in his arms. 'You were in bed, then?'he said, chuckling. 

'Yes, but you must let me go. '

'I should like never to let you go again. '

'But you're leaving to-morrow. '

'Not unless you wish me to, dear. '

Kate did not stop to consider the impossibility of his fulfilling hispromise, and, her heart beating, she went upstairs. On the first landing hestopped her, and laying his hand on her arm, said, 'And would you really bevery glad if I were to stay with you?'

'You know I would, Dick. '

They could not see each other, and after a long silence she said, 'Wemustn't stop here talking. Mrs. Ede sleeps, you know, in the room at theback of the workroom, and she might hear us. '

'Then come into the sitting-room, ' said Dick, taking her hands and drawingher towards him. 

'I cannot. '

'I love you better than anyone in the world. '

'No, no; why should you love me?'

'Let us prove our love one to the other, ' he murmured, and frightened, butat the same time delighted by the words, she allowed him to draw her intohis room. 

'My husband will miss me, ' she said as the door closed, but she could thinkno more of him; he was forgotten in a sudden delirium of the senses; andfor what seemed to him like half an hour Ralph waited, asking himself whathis wife could be doing all that time, thinking that perhaps it was notLennox after all, but some rambling vagrant who had knocked at the door, and that he had better go down and rescue his wife. He would have done sohad he not been afraid of a sudden draught, and while wondering what washappening he dozed away, to be awakened a few minutes afterwards by voiceson the landing. 

'Let me go, Dick, let me go; my husband will miss me. ' She passed away fromhim and entered her husband's room, and Ralph said: 'Well, who was it?'

'Mr. Lennox, ' she answered. 

'Our lodger, ' Ralph murmured, and fell asleep again. 

X

'Is this the stage entrance?'

'Yes, ma'am; you see, during the performance the real stage-door is used asa pit entrance, and we pass under the stage. '

This explanation was given after a swaggering attitude had been assumed, and a knowing wink, the countersign for 'Now I'm going to do something foryour amusement, ' had been bestowed on his pals. The speaker, a rough manwith a beard and a fez cap, became the prominent figure of a grouploitering before a square hole with an earthward descent, cut in the wallof the Hanley Theatre. 

Kate was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice that she was beinglaughed at, and she said instantly, 'I want to see Mr. Lennox; will youtell him I'm here?'

'Mr. Lennox is on the stage; unless yer on in the piece I don't see 'owit's to be done. '

At this rebuff Kate looked round the grinning faces, but at that moment arough-looking fellow of the same class as the speaker ascended from thecellar-like opening, and after nudging his 'pal, ' touched his cap, and saidwith the politeness of one who had been tipped, 'This way, marm. Mr. Lennoxis on the stage, but if you'll wait a minute I'll tell 'im yer 'ere. Takecare, marm, or yer'll slip; very arkerd place to get down, with all 'embaskets in the way. This company do travel with a deal of luggage. That'sMr. Lennox's--the one as yer 'and is on. '

'Oh, indeed!' Kate said, stopping on her way to read Mr. Lennox's name onthe basket. 

'We piles 'em 'gainst that 'ere door so as to 'ave 'em 'andy for sendingdown to the station ter-morrow morning. But if you will remain here amoment, marm, I'll run up on the stage and see if I can see 'im. '

The mention made by the scene-shifter of the approaching removal of Dick'sbasket frightened her, and she remembered that she had scarcely spoken tohim since last night. He had been obliged to go out in the morning beforebreakfast; and though he had tried hard to meet her during the course ofthe day, fate seemed to be against them. 

She was in a large, low-roofed storeroom with an earthen floor. The woodenceiling was supported by an endless number of upright posts that gave theplace the appearance of a ship. At the farther end there were two stonestaircases leading to opposite sides of the stage. In front of her were adrum and barrel, and the semi-darkness at the back was speckled over withthe sparkling of the gilt tinsel stuff used in pantomimes; a pair oflattice-windows, a bundle of rapiers, a cradle and a breastplate, formed agroup in the centre; a broken trombone lay at her feet. The odour of sizethat the scenery exhaled reminded her of Ralph's room; and she wondered ifthe swords were real, what different uses the tinsel paper might be put to;until she would awake from her dream, asking herself bitterly why he didnot come down to see her. In the pause that followed the question, she wasstartled by a prolonged shout from the chorus. The orchestra seemed to begoing mad; the drum was thumped, the cymbals were clashed, and back andforward rushed the noisy feet, first one way, then the other; a sopranovoice was heard for a moment clear and distinct, and was drownedimmediately after in a general scream. What could it mean? Had the placetaken fire? Kate asked herself wildly. 

'The finale of the act 'as begun, marm; Mr. Lennox will be hoff the stagedirectly. '

'Has nothing happened? Is the--?'

The scene-shifter's look of astonishment showed Kate that she was mistaken, but before they had time to exchange many words, the trampling and singingoverhead suddenly ceased, and the muffled sound of clapping and applausewas heard in the distance. 

'There's the act. ' said Bill; 'he'll be down now immediately; he'll take nocall for the perliceman, ' and a moment after a man attired inknee-breeches, with a huge cravat wound several times round his throat, came running down the stone staircase. 'Oh, 'ere he is, ' said Bill. 'I'llleave yer now, marm. '

'And so you found your way, dear?' said Dick, putting out his arm to drawKate towards him. 

But he looked so very strange with the great patches of coarse red on hischeeks, and the deep black lines drawn about his eyes, that she could notconceal her repulsion, and guessing the cause of her embarrassment, hesaid, laughing:

'Ah! I see you don't know me! A good makeup, isn't it? I took a lot oftrouble with it. '

Kate made no answer; but the sound of his voice soothed her, and she leanedupon his arm. 

'Give me a kiss, dear, before we go up, ' he said coaxingly. 

Kate looked at him curiously, and then, laughing at her own foolishness, said, 'Wait until you have the soldier's dress on. '

At the top of the staircase the piled-up side-scenes made so many ways andangles that Kate had to keep close to Dick for fear of getting lost. However, at last they arrived in the wings, where gaslights were burningblankly on the whitewashed walls. A crowd of loud-voiced, perspiring girlsin short fancy petticoats and with bare necks and arms, pushed their waytowards the mysterious and ladder-like staircases and scrambled up them. Ange Pitou had taken off his cocked hat and was sharing a pint of beer withClairette. It being her turn to drink, she said:

'Noe, hold my skirts in, there's a dear; this beer plays the devil withwhite satin. '

'It isn't on your skirts it will go if you spill it, ' Ange replied, 'butinto your bosom. Stop a second, and I'll give the bottom of the pot a wipe, then you'll be all right. '

In the meanwhile Pomponet and La Rivodière were engaged in a violentquarrel. 

'Just you understand, ' shouted Mortimer: 'if you want to do any clowningyou'd better fill your wig with sawdust. It had better be stuffed withsomething. '

This sally was received with smacks of approbation from a circle of supers, who were waiting in the hopes of hearing some spirited dialogue. 

'Clowning! And what can you do? I suppose your line is the legitimate. Goand play Don John again, and you'll read us the notices in the morning. '

'Notices ... Talking of notices, you never had one, except one to quit fromyour landlady, poor woman!' replied Mortimer in his most nasal intonationof voice. 

Enchanted at this witticism, the supers laughed, and poor Dubois would havebeen utterly done for if Dick had not interposed. 

'What do you think, dear?' he said, drawing her aside; 'shall I go and makemy change now? I don't come on till the end of the act, and we'll be ableto talk without interruption till then. '

She had expected him to explain the rights and wrongs of that terriblequarrel that so providentially had passed off without bloodshed, and heseemed to have forgotten all about it. 

'But those two gentlemen--the actors--what will happen? Are they going togo away?'

'Lord, no! of course it is riling to have a fellow mugging behind you withhis wig when you're speaking, but one must go in for a bit of extraclowning on Saturday night. '

All this was Greek to her, and before she could ask Dick to explain he haddarted down a passage. When he was with her it was well enough, but themoment his protection was withdrawn all her old fears returned to her. Shedid not know where to stand. The scene-shifters had come to carry away thescenes that were piled up in her corner, and one of the huge slips hadnearly fallen on her. A troop of girls in single coloured gowns and pokebonnets had stopped to stare at her. She remembered their appearance fromThursday, but she had not seen their vulgar, everyday eyes, nor heard untilnow their coarse, everyday laughs and jokes. Amid this group Lange, fat andlumpy, perorated. 

'The most beastly place I ever was in, my dear. I always dread the weekhere. Just look round the house. I don't believe there's a man in front whohas a quid in his pocket. Now at Liverpool there are lots of nice men. Youshould have seen the things I had sent me when I was there withHarrington's company--and the bouquets! There were flowers left for meevery day. '

What all this meant Kate did not know, and she did not care to guess. For amoment the strange world she found herself in had distracted her thoughts, but it could do so no longer; no, not if it were ten times as strange. Whatdid she care for these actresses? What was it to her what they said or whatthey thought of her? She had come to look after her lover; that was herbusiness, and that only. He was going away to-morrow, and they had arrangednothing! She did not know whether he was going to remain, or if he expectedher to follow him. She hated the people around her; she hated them fortheir laughter, for their fine clothes; she hated them above all becausethey were all calling for him. It was Mr. Lennox here and Dick there. Whatdid they want with him? Could they do nothing without him? It seemed to herthat they were all mocking her, and she hated them for it. 

The stage was now full of women. The men stood in the wings or ran to theends of distant passages and called, 'Dick, Dick, Dick!'

The orchestra had ceased playing, and the noise in front of the curtain wasgrowing every moment angrier and louder. 

At last Dick appeared, looking splendid in red tights and Hessian boots. Hecaught hold of two or three girls, changed their places, peeped to see ifMontgomery was all right, and gave the signal to ring up. 

But once the curtain was raised, he was surrounded by half a dozen personsall wanting to speak to him. Ridding himself of them he contrived to get toKate's side, but they had not exchanged half a dozen words before theproprietor asked if he could 'have a moment. ' Then Hender turned up, andbegged of Kate to come and see the dressing-rooms, but fearing to miss him, she declared she preferred to stay where she was. Nevertheless, it wasdifficult not to listen to her friend's explanations as to what was passingon the stage, and in one of these unguarded moments Dick disappeared. Itwas heart-breaking, but she could do nothing but wait until he came back. Like an iron, the idea that she was about to lose her lover forced itselfdeeper into her heart. The fate of her life was hanging in the balance, andthe few words that were to decide it were being delayed time after time, bythings of no importance. Dick had now returned, and was talking with thegas-man, who wanted to know if the extra 'hand' he had engaged was to bepaid by the company or the management. Every now and again an actress or anactor would rush through the wings and stare at her; sometimes it was thewhole chorus, headed by Miss Beaumont, whose rude remarks reached her earsfrequently. 

She tried to retreat, but the rude eyes and words followed her. Occasionally the voice of the prompter was heard: 'Now then, ladies, silence if you please; I can't hear what's being said on the stage. ' No onelistened to him, and, like animals in a fair, they continued to crush andto crowd in the passage between the wings and the whitewashed wall. A tall, fat girl stood close by; her hand was on her sword, which she slappedslowly against her thighs. The odour of hair, cheap scent, necks, bosomsand arms was overpowering, and to Kate's sense of modesty there wassomething revolting in this loud display of body. A bugle call was soonsounded in the orchestra, and this was the signal for much noise andbustle. The conspirators rushed off the stage, threw aside their cloaks, and immediately after the soft curling strains of the waltz were heard;then the bugle was sounded again, and the girls began to tramp. 

'Cue for soldiers' entrance, ' shouted the prompter. 

'Now then, ladies, are you ready?' cried Dick, as he put himself at thehead of the army. 

'Yes, ' was murmured all along the line, and seeing her hero marching awayat the head of so many women, any one of whom he could have had for theasking, it crossed her mind that it was unnatural for him to stoop to her, a poor little dressmaker of Hanley, who did not know anything except, perhaps, how to stitch the seams of a skirt. But after what had befallenher last night, it did not seem possible that her fate was to be leftbehind, stitching beside Hender and the two little girls, Annie and Lizzie;stitching bodice after bodice, skirt after skirt, till the end of her days, remembering always something that had come into her life suddenly and hadgone out of it suddenly. 'It cannot be, ' she cried out to herself--'itcannot be!' And she remembered that he had said that her ear was true, andher voice as pure as Leslie's. 'A little throaty, ' he had said, 'but thatcan be improved. ' What he meant by throaty she did not know, but no matter;and to convince herself that he had spoken truly she sang the refrain ofthe waltz till the gas-man pulled a rope and brought the curtain down. Shewas about to rush on the stage to speak to Dick, but the gas-man stoppedher. 

'You must wait a moment, there's a call, ' he said. Up went the curtain; thehouse burst into loud applause. Down went the curtain; up it went again. This time only the principals came on, and while they were bowing andsmiling to the audience a great herd of females poured through the wings, and Kate found herself again among courtesans, conspirators, seducers, andwandering minstrels. 

'Who is she?' they asked as they went by. And Kate heard somebody answer, 'A spoon of Dick's, ' and unable to endure the coarse jeering faces, whichthe strange costumes seemed to accentuate, she took advantage of a suddenbreak in the ranks and ran through the wings towards the back of the stage. 

'What's the matter, dear?' he said, drawing her to him. 

'Oh, Dick, you shouldn't neglect me as you do! I've been waiting here amongthose horrid girls nearly an hour for you, and you're talking to everybodybut me. '

'It wasn't my fault, dear; I was on in the last act. They couldn't havefinished it without me. '

'I don't know, I don't know; but you're going away to-morrow, and I shallnever see you again. It's very hard on me that this last night--night--that----'

'Now, don't cry like that, dear. I tell you what. It's impossible to talkhere; everybody's after me. I'll take off these things and we'll go for awalk through the town--will that do? I know we've a lot of things to speakabout. '

The serious way in which he spoke this last phrase brought courage to Kate, and she strove to calm herself, but she was sobbing so heavily that shecould not answer. 

'Well, you'll wait here, dear; no one will disturb you, and I shan't beabove two minutes. '

Kate nodded her head in reply, and five minutes after they were walking upthe street together. 

'How did you get out, dear? Did they see you?'

'No; Ralph is bad with his asthma, and mother is sitting upstairs with him. I said I had some sewing to do.... Oh, Dick, I cannot bear to think thatyou're going away, and that I shall never see you again. '

'Yes, you will, dear, ' he answered cheerfully. 'Now I wonder if yourhusband would consent to your going on the stage?'

'Who would do the dressmaking for him?' she asked. 'He talks about thebusiness, but we would be starving if we relied upon what we sell. ' Andstopping from time to time as their talk grew more earnest, they strolledthrough the crowded streets, Kate hanging on Dick's arm, her face inspiringthe jeers of the factory girls. 

'I wouldn't kiss her if I were you, ' said the most impudent. 

'Wouldn't you really?' cried two youths, stealing up from behind andseizing two of the girls by the waist, and kissing them despite blows andlaughter. 

The combats that followed forced Kate and Dick into the roadway. 'We cannottalk here, ' Dick said; 'isn't there a quiet street near by?'

'There's Market Street; don't you remember, Dick, where you met me the dayyou took me to the potteries?'

'Yes, ' he said, 'I do remember that day. What a crash! and all because youwouldn't let me kiss you; just like those boys and girls. You were moredetermined than those girls were, for methinks, as we say in Shakespeare, they wished to be kissed; but you didn't then. '

'That was the day, ' she answered, 'that I took round Mrs. Barnes's dressafter having stayed up all night to finish it. Here's Market Street, ' andthey walked towards the square of sky enframed in the end of the street, talking of the luck that had brought them together just at the moment whenthey thought that chance had divided them for ever. 

'It was a crash!' Dick repeated, and they walked about the grass-grownmounds of cinders. 

'But, Dick, you won't desert me, ' she said. 'Tell me that you'll take meaway from Hanley. I couldn't bear it when you were gone--I would soonerdie. '

'Of course I'll take you away, my dear, ' said Dick, with a distinct visionof the Divorce Court in his mind; 'but you know that will mean giving upeverything and travelling about the country with me; I don't know thatyou'll like it. '

'You mean that you don't love me enough to take me away. '

'I'll take you away, dear, if you'll come. I never liked a woman as I doyou. The train call is for ten o'clock. We must contrive something. How areyou to meet me at the station?'

It was Kate's turn then to hesitate. She had never been out of thePotteries in her life; she had been born, reared and married here. And nowshe was going away without hope of ever being able to return, she was goinginto an unknown region to roam she did not know whither--adrift, and ashelpless as a tame bird freed and delivered to the enmities of an unknownland. Half the truth dawned upon her in that moment, and lifting her eyes, she said:

'Dick! You're asking a great deal of me. What shall I do? Never, never, never to see Hanley again!'

'I didn't know that you cared so much about Hanley. And you accused me justnow of not loving you enough to take you away. I think it's you who don'tlove me. '

'Dick, you know that I love you better than anything in the world! But togive up everything, never to see what you have seen all your life. '

'I don't think you'll regret it, dear; we'll be very happy. We're goingfrom here to Derby, and from there to Blackpool, a very jolly place by thesea. ' And he talked to her about boating and picnicking, becoming all thewhile more convinced of her pretty face, and his memory of her pretty voicewas active in him when he took her in his arms and said: 'You mustn't thinkany more about it, dear; I couldn't leave this place without you. You'lllike Blackpool if you're fond of boating. '

'I don't know, ' she said; 'I've never seen the sea. '

'Well, you can see it now, ' he answered. 'Look out there; the valleybetween us and the hills filled with mist is more like the ocean thananything I've ever seen. '

'The ocean, ' Kate repeated. 'Have you been to America?'

'Yes, ' he answered, 'I have lived there for several years. I may take thecompany out there--probably next year, if all goes well. '

'And will you take me with you?'

'Yes, ' he said, 'but you must come away to-morrow morning. Why do youhesitate?'

'I'm not hesitating, ' she answered, 'but those hills beyond the valley havealways seemed to me very wonderful; ever since I was a little child I'veasked myself what lies beyond those hills. '

For answer Dick kissed her, and they relapsed into contemplation. 

The tall stems of the factory chimneys, the bottle-shaped pottery ovens, the intricate shafts of the collieries were hidden in the mist, and thefurnace fires flashing through the mist enhanced the likeness of the HanleyValley to a sea of stars; like stars these furnaces flamed, now here, nowthere, over the lower slopes of the hills, till at last one blazed intoexistence high amid the hills, so high that it must have been on the verylowest verge. It seemed to Kate like a hearth of pleasure and comfortawaiting her in some distant country, and all her fancies were centred inthis distant light, till another light breaking suddenly higher up in thehills attracted her, and she deemed that it would be in or about this lightthat she would find happiness. She must ascend from one light to the next, but the light on which her eyes were fixed was not a furnace light, but astar. Would she never find happiness, then, in this world? she asked. WasDick going to desert her? And without telling him that she had mistaken anearthly for a heavenly light, she threw her arms about him. 

'Of course, Dick, I'll go with you; I will follow you wherever you maychoose to go and do the work that you bid me to do. You've spoken well ofmy voice. Oh yes, Dick, I'll go with you. Why shouldn't I? You'reeverything to me! I never knew what happiness was till I saw you; I'venever had any amusement, I've never had any love; it was nothing butdrudgery from morning to night. Better be dead than continue such anexistence. Tell me, Dick, you'll take me away. '

Dick listened calmly and quietly to these passionate beseechings, andtaking her in his arms, he kissed her fervidly, though somewhat with theair of one who deems further explanation unnecessary. But when he withdrewhis face Kate continued, at first plaintively, but afterwards with morepassion:

'It's very wicked--I know it is--but I can't help myself. I was brought upreligiously, nobody more so, but I never could think of God and forget thisworld like my mother and Mrs. Ede. I always used to like to read talesabout lovers, and I used to feel miserable when they didn't marry in theend and live happily. But then those people were good and pure, and werecommanded to love each other, whereas I'm sinful, and shall be punished formy sin. I don't know how that will be; perhaps you'll cease to love me, andwill leave me. When you cease to love me I hope I shall die. But you'llnever do that, Dick; tell me that you will not. You'll remember that I gaveup a great deal for you; that I left my home for you; that I lefteverything. '

Her feebleness attracted him as much as her pretty face, and he knew sheloved him; and they were going away together; so much had been decided, andas far as he could see, there the matter ended. Besides, it was gettingvery late; the third act must be nearly over now, and he had a lot ofbusiness to get through. But it was difficult to suggest that they shouldgo home, for Kate had burst into tears, unable to control herself anylonger. He must console her. 

'You mustn't cry, dear, ' he said softly; 'we shall be far away from hereto-morrow, and you'll find out then how well I love you. '

'But do you really love me? If I were only sure that it was so!'

'If I didn't love you, why should I ask you to go away with me? If I didn'tlove you, could I kiss you as I do?'

'Of course we've been very wicked, ' she continued as if she had not heardhim, 'and you can't respect me very much; but then you made love to me so, and the music made me forget everything. It wasn't all my fault, I think, and you were so different from all the other men I've seen--so much morelike what I imagined a man should be, so much more like the heroes in thenovels. You know in the books there's always a tenor who comes and singsunder the window in the moonlight, and sends the lady he loves roses. Younever sent me any roses, but then there are no roses in Hanley. But youwere so kind and nice, and spoke so differently, and when I looked at yourblue eyes I couldn't help feeling I loved you. I really think I knew--atleast, I couldn't talk to you quite in the same way as I did to other men. You remember when I was showing you over the rooms, how you stopped to talkto me about the pious cards Mrs. Ede had hung on the wall--well, since thenI felt that you liked me. And it was so different since you came to live inthe house. I didn't see much of you, you were always so busy, but I used tolie awake at night to hear you come in. '

'Look here, dear, I know you're very fond of me--so am I of you--but Imust get back to the theatre. You've no idea of the business I've to getthrough to-night, and as we're going away together we'll have to look outfor some place to put up. '

This necessity for immediate action at once startled and frightened her, and bursting again into a passionate fit of sobbing, she exclaimed:

'Oh, Dick, this is a terrible thing you're asking me to do! Oh, what willbecome of me? But do you love me? Tell me again that you love me, and willnot leave me. '

Dick drew her closer to him for answer. 'We must not stay here any longer, 'he said. 

'But I cannot go home, Dick--to that house. '

'You'll sleep with me, dear, at the inn. '

'Sleep with you?' she repeated and allowed herself to be led. 

The furnace fires had increased by tens; each dazzling line was now crossedand interwoven with other lines; and through the tears that blinded hereyes Kate saw an immense sea of fire, and beyond nothing but unfathomablegrey. 

XI

Next morning the sky was low and grey, and the house-tops appeared dimlythrough the mist. A little later the clouds began to gather, and it seemedlike rain, but now and then a shaft of sunlight fell on a corner of thetable within a few inches of Kate's impatiently moving fingers. She had notbeen able to eat any breakfast--had just crumbled a piece of bread andsipped a cup of tea, and begged Dick to hasten. It seemed that he hadn't athought for her, of what her fate would be if they missed the train. Shecouldn't spend another night in Hanley. 

'Dick, dear, do make haste. We shall miss the train. '

'We've plenty of time, ' he answered, and she read in his face the desirefor another plate of crumpets, and she prayed that he might not ask foranother egg. 

'Dick, it's ten minutes to ten. '

'I don't think it can be as much as that, dear. ' He turned to look at theclock, which was behind him. 

'Oh, Dick, Dick! Make haste, I beg of you; you don't know what I'msuffering. Supposing my husband was to come in now and find us here?'

'He can't know that we're here; the station is the first place he'd go to;there's no use hanging about there longer than we can help. '

'Oh dear, I'd give ten years of my life if we were once in the train. '

'There's no use exciting yourself like that, dear; I'll see that you don'tmeet anyone. '

'How will you manage that?'

'I'll tell you in the cab. I think on the whole we'd better start now. Luckily, we haven't much luggage to delay us. Waiter, bring the bill andcall me a cab. '

'And how will you save me from meeting him if he's there before us?' shesaid to Dick as they drove away. 

'I'll leave you in the cab, and cut down and see if he's there. '

'He might come and find me when you were gone, and that would be worse thananything. He might kill me, and I should have no one to save me. '

He was, in truth, a little puzzled, for there was no getting away from thefact that it was only too possible, not to say probable, that they wouldfind Mr. Ede waiting for them. He thought of disguises and secret doors, and masks and wigs, of the wardrobe-baskets, but a moment's reflectionconvinced him of the impracticability of stowing Kate away in one of these. He then thought of wrapping a railway rug around his newly-acquired wife, and carrying her thus concealed in his arms; but that would not do either. Mr. Ede would be sure to ask him what he had there. 

'Oh, Dick, dear, what shall we do if we find him waiting on the platform?You'll protect me, won't you? You won't desert me! I couldn't go back tohim. '

'Of course not. Let him take you away from me? Not me! If you don't want tolive with him any more you've a right to leave him. I'll knock him down ifhe gives me any of his cheek. '

'You won't do that, will you, dear? Remember how small and weak he is;you'd kill him. '

'That's true, so I would. Well, I'm damned if I know what to do; you'llhave to come with me even if he does kick up a row. It'll be deucedunpleasant, and before the whole company too. Don't you think that youcould wait a moment in the cab while I have a look round--I won't go far. '

'Oh, I'd be too afraid! Couldn't you ask someone to go for you?'

'I'll see who's there, ' said Dick, twisting his neck to look round thecorner. 'By Jove! they're all there--Beaumont, Dolly Goddard. I think I'llask Montgomery; he's a devilish good chap. We had better stop the cab hereand I'll call to him. '

Kate consented, and a moment after the musician's immense nose andscarecrow face was poked in the window. 

'Hey, old pal, what is it? Waiting--but--I beg----'

'Never mind that, ' said Dick, laying his hand on the young fellow's arm; 'Iwant you to do me a favour. Run down on the platform and see if there's alittle scraggy man about the height of Dubois hanging about anywhere. Youcan't mistake him; he has a dirty dark beard that grows on his face like abunch of grass, and he's no chest, little thin shoulders, and he'd haveon----'

'A pair of grey trousers, and a red woollen comforter round his neck, 'whispered Kate, feeling bitterly ashamed. 

'All right, ' said Montgomery, 'I'll spot him if he's there. But you knowthe train goes in ten minutes or less, and Hayes says that he can't takethe tickets; you've all the coin. '

'So I have; I forgot to send it round to him last night. Ask him to step uphere, there's a good fellow. '

'Now, I bet you Hayes won't be able to get the tickets right. He'sperfectly useless, always boozed--nipping, you know. '

Kate did not answer, and an uneasy silence ensued, which was broken atlength by the appearance of a hiccuping, long-whiskered man. 

'How are you, o-o-old man? Eh! who is--? I don't think I have the pleasureof this lady's acquaintance. '

'Mrs. Ede--Mr. Hayes, our acting manager. Now, look here, Hayes, you go andget the tickets. I can't leave this lady. Thirty-five will do. '

'How thirty-five? We travel forty-one. '

'You know well enough that thirty-five is what we always get. Damn it, man, make haste!'

'Don't damn me. New member of the com-company, eh?'

'I'll tell you all about that after, old man, ' said Dick, leaning forwardand pretending to whisper confidentially. 

This satisfied the tippler, who, after pulling his silky whiskers andserving Kate to another drunken stare, hurried off, black bag in hand. 

'Confounded nuisance to have to deal with a fellow like that; he thinkshe's a dab at business, and goes about with the black bag for show. '

Two minutes passed, maybe three; it seemed to her an eternity, and then sheheard Montgomery's voice crying:

'It's all right, I'm sure. '

'Then get out, dear, ' said Dick, 'we haven't a moment to lose. '

She jumped out, but hadn't walked a dozen yards before she stoppedpanic-stricken. 

'Mrs. Ede--my mother-in-law--perhaps she's there! Oh, Dick, what shall Ido?'

'She isn't there, ' Montgomery answered; 'I know her by sight, ' and thatMontgomery should know her mother-in-law by sight meant to Kate as much asa footprint does to a lost one in a desert. For the sight of the company onthe asphalt, and all the luggage, portmanteaux, and huge white basketslabelled 'Morton and Cox's Operatic Company, ' and the train waiting tocarry them away to an unknown destination, made her feel more intenselythan ever that she was adrift in a current that would carry her she knewnot whither. All these strange people collected together were henceforthher world. She was not unnaturally frightened, but the baggage manespecially filled her with alarm, so all-powerful did he seem, rushing upand down the platform, shouting at the porters, and throwing out bits ofinformation to the ladies of the company as he passed them by. 

'We shall be off in a minute, dear, ' whispered Dick softly in her ear, 'andthen----'

'Whose carriage are you going in, Dick?' said a little stout man who walkedwith a strut and wore a hat like a bishop's. 

'I really don't know; I don't mind; anywhere except with the pipe-smokers. I can't stand that lot. '

'Perhaps he's going to take a first-class compartment with hot-water pans, 'remarked Mortimer, and the little group of admirers all laughed consumedly. Dick, overhearing the remark, said to Kate: 'One mustn't take notice ofwhat he says; I very nearly kicked him into the orchestra at Halifax aboutsix months ago. But what compartment shall we take? Let's go with Leslieand Dubois and Montgomery; they're the quietest. Let me introduce you toMiss Leslie. Miss Leslie--Mrs. Ede, a lady I'm escorting to Blackpool; youtwo have a chat together. I'll be back in a minute. I must go after Hayes;if I don't he may forget all about the tickets. '

'I'm afraid you'll find us a very noisy lot, Mrs. Ede, ' said Miss Leslie, and in a way that made Kate feel intimate with her at once. 

Miss Leslie had a bright smiling face, with clear blue eyes, and a mop ofdyed hair peeped from under a prettily ribboned bonnet, and Kate noticedhow beautifully cut were her clothes. Miss Beaumont sported large diamondsin her ears, and she wore a somewhat frayed yellow French cloak, which, sheexplained to the girls near her, particularly to her pal, Dolly Goddard, was quite good enough for travelling. No one in the company couldunderstand the friendship between these two; the knowing ones declared thatDolly was Beaumont's daughter; others, who professed to be more knowing, entertained other views. Dolly was a tiny girl with crumpled features, whowore dresses that were remade from the big woman's cast-off garments. Shesang in the chorus, was in receipt of a salary of five-and-twenty shillingsa week, and was a favourite with everyone. Around her stood a group ofgirls; they formed a black mass of cotton, alpaca, and dirty cloth. Nearthem half a dozen chorus-men were talking of the possibility of gettinganother drink before the train came up. Their frayed boots and threadbarefrock-coats would have caused them to be mistaken for street idlers, butone or two of their number exhibited patent leathers and a smart made-upcravat of the latest fashion. Dubois's hat gave him the appearance of abishop, his tight trousers confounded him with a groom; and Joe Mortimermade up very well for the actor whose friends once believed he was agenius. 

The news had gone about that Dick was running away with a married woman, and that the husband was expected to appear every minute to stop her; ithad reached even the ears of the chorus-men in the refreshment-room, andthey gulped down their beer and hurried back to see the sport. Mortimerdeclared that they were going to see Dick for the first time in legitimatedrama, and that he wouldn't miss it for the world. The joke was repeatedthrough the groups, and before the laughter ceased the green-painted enginepuffed into sight, and at the same moment Dick was seen making his waytowards them from the refreshment room, dragging drunken Mr. Hayes alongwith them. 

Then Kate felt glad, and almost triumphantly she dashed the tears from hereyes. No one could stop her now. She was going away with Dick, to be lovedand live happy for ever. Beaumont was forgotten, and the fierce longing forchange she had been so long nourishing completely mastered her, and, with achildlike impetuosity, she rushed up to her lover, and leaning on his arm, strove to speak. 

'What is it, dear?' he said, bending towards her. 'What are you cryingabout?'

'Oh, nothing, Dick. I'm so happy. Oh, if only we were outside this station!Where shall I get in?'

Even if her husband did come, and she were taken back, she thought that shewould like to have been at least inside a railway carriage. 

'Get in here. Where's Montgomery? Let's have him. '

'And, oh, do ask Miss Leslie! She's been so kind to me. '

'Yes, she always travels with us, ' said Dick, standing at the carriagedoor. 'Come, get in, Montgomery; make haste, Dubois. '

'But where's Bret?' shouted someone. 

'I haven't seen him, ' replied several voices. 

'Is there any lady missing?' asked Montgomery. 

'No, ' replied Mortimer in the deepest nasal intonation he could assume, 'but I noticed a relation of the chief banker in the town in the theatrelast night. Perhaps our friend has had his cheque stopped. '

Roars of laughter greeted this sally, the relevance of which no one couldeven faintly guess; and the guard smiled as he said to the porter:

'That's Mr. Mortimer. Amusing, is them theatre gentlemen. ' Then, turning toDick, 'I must start the train. Your friend will be late if he doesn't comeup jolly quick. '

'Isn't it extraordinary that Bret can never be up to time? Every nightthere's a stage wait for him to come on for the serenade, ' said Dick, withdrawing his head from the window. 'Here 'e is, sir, ' said the guard. 

'Come on, Bret; you'll be late, ' shouted Dick. 

A tall, thin man in a velvet coat, urged on by two porters, was seen makinghis way down the platform with a speed that was evidently painful. 

'In here, ' said Dick, opening the door. 

Out of the dim station they passed into the bright air alongside of longlines of waggons laden with chimney-pots and tiles, the produce of Hanley. The collieries steamed above their cinder-hills, the factory chimneysvomited, and as Kate looked out on this world of work that she was leavingfor ever, she listened to the uncertain trouble that mounted up through hermind, and to the voices of the actors talking of comic songs and dances. 

She put out her hand instinctively to find Dick's; he was sitting besideher, and she felt happy again. 

At these intimacies none but Frank Bret was surprised, and the laugh thatmade Kate blush was occasioned by the tenor's stupid questioning look: itwas the first time he had seen her; he had not yet heard the story of theelopement, and his glance went from one to the other, vainly demanding anexplanation, and to increase the hilarity Dick said:

'But, by the way, Bret, what made you so late this morning? Were you downat the bank cashing a cheque?'

'What are you thinking about? There are no banks open on Sunday morning, 'said Bret, who of course had not the least idea what was meant. 

The reply provoked peals of laughter from all save Miss Leslie, and allpossible changes were rung on the joke, until it became as nauseous to therest of the company as to the bewildered tenor, who bore the chaff with thedignified stupidity of good looks. 

The mummers travelled third class. Kate sat next the window, with her backto the engine; Dick was beside her, and Miss Leslie facing her; then cameDubois and Bret, with Montgomery at the far end. 

The conversation had fallen, and Dick, passing his arm around Kate's waist, whispered to her and to Leslie:

'I want you two to be pals. Lucy is one of my oldest friends. I knew herwhen she was so high, and it was I who gave her her first part, wasn't it, Lucy?'

'Yes. Don't you remember, Dick, the first night I played Florette in _TheBrigands_? Wasn't I in a fright? I never should have ventured on thestage if you hadn't pushed me on from the wings. '

Kate thought she had never seen anyone look so nice or heard anyone speakso sweetly. In fact, she liked her better off the stage than on. Leslie hada way of raising her voice as she spoke till it ended in a laugh and adisplay of white teeth. The others of the company she did not yetrecognize. They were still to her figures moving through an agitated dream. Leslie was the first to awaken to life. 

The tendency of Dick's conversation was to wander, but after havingindulged for some time in the pleasures of retrospection he returned to thesubject in point:

'Well, it's a bit difficult to explain, ' Dick said, 'but, you see, thislady, Mrs. Ede, wasn't very happy at home, and having a nice voice--youmust hear her sing some _Angot_--and such an ear! She only heard thewaltz once, and she can give it note for note. Well, to make a long storyshort, she thought she'd cut it, and try what she could do with us. '

'You're all very kind to me, but I'm afraid I've been very wicked. '

'Oh my!' said Miss Leslie, laughing, 'you mustn't talk like that; you'llput us all to the blush. '

'I wonder how such theories would suit Beaumont's book, ' said Dick. 

'You see, ' Dick continued, 'she's left Hanley without any clothes exceptthose she's wearing, and we'll have to buy everything in Derby, ' and hebegged Bret to move down a bit and allow him to take the seat next toLeslie. 

The tenor, conductor, and second low comedian had spread a rug over theirknees, and were playing nap. They shouted, laughed, and sang portions oftheir evening music when they made or anticipated making points, and Katewas therefore left to herself, and she looked out of the window. 

They were passing through the most beautiful parts of Staffordshire, andfor the first time she saw the places that seemed to her just like the spotwhere the lady with the oval face used to read Shelley to the handsomebaronet when her husband was away doctoring the country-folk. 

The day was full of mist and sun. Along the edges of the woods the whitevapours loitered, half concealing the forms of the grazing kine; and thelight shadows floated on the grass, long and prolonged, even as thememories that were now filling the mind of this sentimental workwoman. Itseemed to her that she was now on the threshold of a new life--the life ofwhich she had so long dreamed. Her lover was near her, but in a railwaycarriage filled with smoke and with various men and women; and it seemed toher that they should be walking in sunny meadows by hedgerows. The birdswere singing in the shaws; but in her imagination the clicking of needlesand the rustling of silk mingled with the songs of the birds, andforgetting the landscape, with a sigh she fell to thinking of what theywould be saying of her at home. 

She knew Mrs. Ede would have the whole town searched, and when it was nolonger possible to entertain a doubt, she would say that Kate's name mustnever again be mentioned in her presence. A letter! there was much to say:but none would understand. The old woman who had once loved her so dearlywould for ever hate and detest her. And Ralph? Kate did not care quite somuch what he thought of her; she fancied him swearing and cursing, andsending the police after her; and then he appeared to her as a sullen, morose figure moving about the shop, growling occasionally at his mother, and muttering from time to time that he was devilish glad that his wife hadgone away. She would have wished him to regret her; and when she rememberedthe little girls, she felt the tears rise to her eyes. What explanationwould be given to them? Would they learn to hate her? She thought not; butstill, they would have to give up coming to the shop--there was no one nowto teach them sewing. Her absence would change everything. Mrs. Ede wouldnever be able to get on with Hender, and even if she did, neither of themknew enough of dressmaking to keep the business going, and she askedherself sorrowfully: 'What will become of them?' They would not be able tolive upon what they sold in the shop--that was a mere nothing. Poor Ralph'sdreams of plate-glass and lamps! Where were they now? Mrs. Ede's thirtypounds a year would barely pay the rent. A vision of destruction andbrokers passed before her mind, and she realized for the first time theimmense importance of the step she had taken. Not only was her own futurehidden, but the future of those she had left behind. The tedium of her lifein Hanley was forgotten, and she remembered only the quiet, certain lifeshe might have led, in and out from the shop to the front kitchen, and upto her workroom--the life that she had been born into. Now she had nothingbut this man's love. If she were to lose it!

Leslie smiled at the lovers, and moving towards the card-players, sheplaced her arm round Bret's shoulders and examined his hand. Then the threemen raised their heads. Dubois, with the cynicism of the ugly little manwho has ever had to play the part of the disdained lover both in real orfictitious life, giggled, leered, and pointed over his shoulder. Montgomerysmiled too, but a close observer would detect in him the yearnings of ayoung man from whose plain face the falling fruit is ever invisibly lifted. Bret looked round also, but his look was the indifferent stare of one towhom love has come often, and he glanced as idly at the picture as aworn-out gourmet would over the bill of fare of a table d'hôte dinner. 

A moment after all eyes were again fixed on the game, and Dick began tospeak to Kate of the clothes she would have to buy in Derby. 

'I can give you twenty pounds to fit yourself out. Do you think you couldmanage with that?'

'I'm afraid I'm putting you to a lot of expense, dear. '

'Not more than you're worth. You don't know what a pleasant time we shallhave travellin' about; it's so tiresome bein' always alone. There's nosociety in these country towns, but I shan't want society now. '

'And do you think that you won't get tired of me? Will you never care againfor any of these fine ladies?' and her brilliant eyes drew down Dick'slips, and when they entered a tunnel the temptation to repeat the kiss wasgreat, but owing to Dubois's attempt to light matches it ended in failure. Dick bumped his head against the woodwork of the carriage; Kate felt shehated the little comedian, and before she recovered her temper the trainbegan to slacken speed, and there were frequent calls for Dick from thewindows of the different compartments. 

'Is the railway company going to stand us treat this journey?' shoutedMortimer. 

'Yes, ' replied Dick, putting his head out, 'seven the last time and seventhis; we should have more than a couple of quid. '

When the train stopped and a voice was heard crying, 'All tickets here!' hesaid to Dubois, Bret, and Montgomery, 'Now then, you fellows, cut off; getMortimer and a few of the chorus-men to join you; we're seven short. '

As they ran away he continued to Leslie: 'I hope Hayes won't bungle it;he's got the tickets to-day. '

'You shouldn't have let him take them; you know he's always more or lessdrunk, and may answer forty-two. '

'I can't help it if he does; I'd something else to look after at Hanley. '

'Tickets!' said the guard. 

'Our acting manager has them; he's in the end carriage. '

'You know I don't want anything said about it; Hayes and I are old pals;but it's a damned nuisance to have an acting manager who's always boozed. Ihave to look after everythin', even to making up the returns. But I musthave a look and see how he's gettin' on with the guard, ' said Dick, jumpingup and putting his head out of the window. 

After a moment or two he withdrew it and said hastily, 'By Jove! there's arow on. I must go and see what's up. I bet that fool has gone and donesomething. '

In a minute he had opened the carriage door and was hurrying down theplatform. 

'Oh, what's the matter?--do tell me, ' said Kate to Miss Leslie. 'I hope hewon't get into any trouble. '

'It's nothing at all. We never, you know, take the full number of tickets, for it is impossible for the guard to count us all; and besides, there aresome members who always run down the platform; and in that way we save agood deal of coin, which is spent in drinks all round. ' But guessing whatwas passing in Kate's mind Leslie said: 'It isn't cheating. The companyprovides us with a carriage, and it is all the same to them if we travelfive-and-thirty or forty-two. '

XII

The rest of the journey was accomplished monotonously, the conversationdrifting into a discussion, in the course of which mention was made ofactors, singers, theatre, prices of admission, 'make-ups, ' stagemanagement, and music. It was in Birmingham that Ashton, Leslie'sunderstudy, sang the tenor's music instead of her own in the first act ofthe _Cloches_: and poor So-and-so, who was playing the Grenicheux--howhe did look when he heard his B flat go off!

'Flat, ' murmured Montgomery sorrowfully, 'isn't the word. I assure you itloosened every tooth in my head. I broke my stick trying to stop her, butit was no bloody good. '

Then explanations of how the different pieces had been produced in Pariswere volunteered, and the talents of the different composers werediscussed; and all held their sides and roared when Dubois, who, Kate beganto perceive, was the company's laughingstock, declared that he thoughtOffenbach too polkaic. 

At last the train rolled into Derby, and Dick asked a red pimply-faced manin a round hat if he had secured good places for his posters. 

'Spiffing, ' the man answered, and he saluted Leslie. 'But I couldn't getyou the rooms. They're let; and, between ourselves, you'll 'ave adifficulty in finding what you want. This is cattle-show week. You'd bettercome on at once with me. I know an hotel that isn't bad, and you can havefirst choice--Beaumont's old rooms; but you must come at once. '

Kate was glad to see that Mr. Bill Williams, the agent in advance, did notremember her. She, however, recognized him at once as the man who had sentDick to her house. 

'Cattle-show week! All the rooms in the town let!' cried Leslie, who hadoverheard part of Mr. Williams's whisperings. 'Oh dear! I do hope that myrooms aren't let. I hate going to an hotel. Let me out; I must see aboutthem at once. Here, Frank, take hold of this bag. '

'There's no use being in such a hurry; if the rooms are let they are let. What's the name of the hotel you were speaking of, Williams?'

'I forget the name, but if you don't find lodgings, I'll leave you theaddress at the theatre, ' said the agent in advance, winking at Dick. 

'You're too damned clever, Williams; you'll be making somebody's fortuneone of these days. '

Kate had some difficulty in keeping close to Dick, for he was surroundedthe moment he stepped out on the platform. The baggage-man had a quantityof questions to ask him, and Hayes was desirous of re-explaining how theticket-collector had happened to misunderstand him. Pulling his longwhiskers, the acting manager walked about murmuring, 'Stupid fool! stupiddarned fool!' And there were some twenty young women who pleaded in turn, their little hands laid on the arm of the popular fat man. 

'Yes, dear; that's it, ' he answered. 'I'll see to it to-morrow. I'll trynot to put you in Miss Crawford's dressing-room, since you don't agree. '

'And, Mr. Lennox, you will see that I'm not shoved into the back row byMiss Dacre, won't you?'

'Yes, dear--yes, dear; I'll see to that too; but I must be off now; andyou'd better see after lodgings; I hear that they are very scarce. If youaren't able to get any, come up to the Hen and Chickens; I hear they haverooms to let there. Poor little girls!' he murmured to Williams as they gotinto a cab. 'They only have twenty-five bob a week; one can't see themrobbed by landladies who can let their rooms three times over. '

'Just as you like, ' said Williams, 'but you'll have the hotel full ofthem. '

As they drove through the town Dick called attention to the animatedappearance of the crowds, and Williams explained the advantages of thecorners he had chosen; and at last the cab stopped at the inn, or ratherbefore the archway of a stone passage some four or five yards wide. 

'There's no inn here!'

'Oh yes, there is, and a very nice inn too; the entrance is a little way upthe passage. '

It was an old-fashioned place--probably it had been a fashionable resortfor sporting squires at the beginning of the century. The hall waswainscotted in yellow painted wood; on the right-hand side there was alarge brown press, with glass doors, surmounted by a pair of buffalo horns;on the opposite wall hung a barometer; and the wide, slowly slopingstaircase, with its low thick banisters, ascended in front of the streetdoor. The apartments were not, however, furnished with archaeologicalcorrectness. 

A wall-paper of an antique design contrasted with a modern tablecloth, andthe sombre red curtains were ill suited to the plate-glass which hadreplaced the narrow windows of old time. Dick did not like the dust nor thetarnish, but no other bed and sitting-room being available, a bargain wassoon struck, and the proprietor, after hoping that his guests would becomfortable, informed them that the rule of his house was that the streetdoor was barred and locked at eleven o'clock, and would be reopened for noone. 

He was a quiet man who kept an orderly house, and if people could notmanage to be in before midnight he did not care for their custom. Aftergrumbling a bit, Dick remembered that the pubs closed at eleven, and as hedid not know anyone in the town there would be no temptation to stay out. 

Williams, who had been attentively examining Kate, said that he was goingdown to the theatre, and asked if he should have the luggage sent up. 

This was an inconvenient question, and as an explanation was impossiblebefore the hotel-keeper, Dick was obliged to wish Kate good-bye for thepresent, and accompany Williams down to the theatre. 

She took off her bonnet mechanically, threw it on the table, and, sittingdown in an armchair by the window, let her thoughts drift to those at home. 

Whatever doubt there might have been at first, they now knew that she hadleft them--and for ever. 

The last three words cost her a sigh, but she was forced to admit them. There could be no uncertainty now in Ralph's and his mother's mind that shehad gone off with Mr. Lennox. Yes, she had eloped; there could be noquestion about the fact. She had done what she had so often read of innovels, but somehow it did not seem at all the same thing. 

This was a startling discovery to make, but of the secret of herdisappointment she was nearly unconscious; and rousing herself from thetorpor into which she had fallen, she hoped Dick would not stop long away. It was so tiresome waiting. But soon Miss Leslie came running upstairs. 

'Dinner has been ordered for five o'clock, and we've made up a party offour--you, Dick, myself, and Frank. '

'And what time is it now?'

'About four. Don't you think you'll be able to hold out till then?'

'Oh, dear me, yes; I'm not very hungry. '

'And I'll lend you anything you want for to-night. '

'Thanks, it's very kind of you. ' Kate fell to wondering if her kindness hadanything to do with Dick, and with the view to discovering their secret, ifthey had one, she watched them during dinner, and was glad to see that Mr. Frank Bret occupied the prima donna's entire attention. 

Soon after dinner the party dispersed. 

'You'll not be able to buy anything to-night, ' Dick said, and Kateanswered:

'Leslie said she'd lend me a nightgown. '

'And to-morrow you'll buy yourself a complete rig-out, ' and he gave herfive-and-twenty pounds and told her to pal with Leslie, that she was thebest of the lot. It seemed to her quite a little fortune, and as Dick hadto go to London next morning, she sent up word to Leslie to ask if shewould come shopping with her. The idea of losing her lover so soonfrightened her, and had it not been for the distraction that the buying ofclothes afforded her the week she spent in Derby would have beenintolerable. Leslie, it is true, often came to sit with Kate, and on morethan one occasion went out to walk with her. But there were long hourswhich she was forced to pass alone in the gloom of the hotel sitting-room, and as she sat making herself a travelling dress, oppressed and tremblingwith thoughts, she was often forced to lay down her work. She had to admitthat nothing had turned out as she had expected; even her own power ofloving appeared feeble in comparison to the wealth of affection she hadimagined herself lavishing upon Dick. Something seemed to separate them;even when she lay back and he held her in his arms, she was not as near tohim as she had dreamed of being; and try as she would, she found itimpossible to wipe out of her mind the house in Hanley. It rose before her, a dark background with touches of clear colour: the little girls working bythe luminous window with the muslin curtains and the hanging pot ofgreenstuff; the stiff-backed woman moving about with plates and dishes inher hands; the invalid wheezing on the little red calico sofa. The past wasstill reality, and the present a fable. It didn't seem true: lying with aman who was still strange to her; rising when she pleased; getting even hermeals when she pleased. She could not realize the fact that she had leftfor ever her quiet home in the Potteries, and was travelling about thecountry with a company of strolling actors. The spider that had spun itselffrom the ceiling did not seem suspended in life by a less visible threadthan herself. Supposing Dick were never to return! The thought wasappalling, and on more than one occasion she fell down on her knees to prayto be preserved from such a terrible misfortune. 

But her hours of solitude were not the worst she had to bear. Impelled bycuriosity to hear all the details of the elopement, and urged by anever-present desire to say unpleasant things, Miss Beaumont paid Kate manyvisits, and sitting with her thick legs crossed, she insinuated all shedared. She did not venture upon a direct statement, but by the aid of asmile and an indirect allusion it was easy to suggest that love in anactor's heart is brief. As long as Miss Beaumont was present Kate repressedher feelings, but when she found herself alone tears flowed down hercheeks, and sobs echoed through the dusty sitting-room. 

It was in one of these trances of emotion that Dick found her when hereturned, and that night she accompanied him to the theatre. The pieceplayed was _Les Cloches de Corneville_. Miss Beaumont as Germainedisappointed her, and she could not understand how it was that the Marquiswas not in love with Serpolette. But the reality that most grosslycontradicted her idea was that Dick should be playing the part of theBaillie; and when she saw her hero fall down in the middle of the stage andheard everybody laugh at him, she felt both ashamed and insulted. Theromantic character of her mind asserted itself, and, against her will, forced her to admire the purple-cloaked Marquis. Then her thoughts turnedto considering if she would be able to act as well as any one of the ladieson the stage. It did not seem to her very difficult, and Dick had told herthat, with a little teaching, she would be able to sing as well asBeaumont. The sad expression that her face wore disappeared, and she grewimpatient for the piece to finish so that she might speak to Dick abouttaking lessons. They were now in the third act, and the moment the curtainwas rung down she hurried away, asking as she went the way to thestage-door. It was by no means easy to find. She lost herself once or twicein the back streets, and when she at last found the right place, thehall-keeper refused her admittance. 

'Do you belong to the company?'

After a moment's hesitation Kate replied that she did not; but thatmoment's hesitation was sufficient for the porter, and he at once said, 'Pass on; you'll find Mr. Lennox on the stage. '

Timidly she walked up a narrow passage filled with men talking at the topof their voices, and from thence made her way into the wings. There she wastold that Mr. Lennox was up in his room, but would be down shortly. 

For a moment Kate could not realize where she was, so different was thestage now from what it had been whenever she had seen it before. Thepresent aspect was an entirely new one. 

It was dark like a cellar, and in the flaring light that spurted from aniron gas-pipe, the stage carpenter carried rocking pieces of scenery to andfro. The auditorium was a round blank overclouded in a deep twilight, through which Kate saw the long form of a grey cat moving slowly round theedge of the upper boxes. 

Getting into a corner so as to be out of the way of the people who werewalking up and down the stage, she matured her plans for the cultivation ofher voice, and waited patiently for her lover to finish dressing. This hetook some time to do, and when he did at length come downstairs, he was ofcourse surrounded; everybody as usual wanted to speak to him, but, gallantly offering her his arm, and bending his head, he asked in a whisperhow she liked the piece, and insisted on hearing what she thought of thisand that part before he replied to any one of the crowd of friends who inturn strove to attract his attention. This was very flattering, but she wasnevertheless obliged to relinquish her plan of explaining to him there andthen her desire to learn singing. He could not keep his mind fixed on whatshe was saying. Mortimer was telling a story at which everybody wasscreaming, and just at her elbow Dubois and Montgomery were engaged in aviolent argument regarding the use of consecutive fifths. But besides thesedistractions there was a tall thin man who kept nudging away at Dick'selbow, begging of him to come over to his place, and saying that he wouldgive him as good a glass of whisky as he had ever tasted. Nobody knew whothe man was, but Dick thought he had met him somewhere up in the North. 

'I've been about, gentlemen, in America, and in France, and I lead abachelor life. My house is across the way, and if you'll do me the honourto come in and have a glass with me, I shall feel highly honoured. Ifthere's one thing I do enjoy more than another, it's the conversation ofintellectual men, and after the performance of to-night I don't see how Ican do better than to come to you for it. But, ' he continued gallantly, 'ifI said just now that I was a bachelor, it is, I assure you, not because Idislike the sex. My solitary state is my misfortune, not my fault, and ifthese ladies will accompany you, gentlemen, need I say that I shall becharmed and honoured?'

'We'll do the honouring and the ladies will do the charming, ' Mortimersaid, and on these words the whole party followed the tall thin man to hishouse, a small affair with a porch and green blinds such as might be rentedby a well-to-do commercial traveller. 

The furniture was mahogany and leather, and when the sideboard was opened, the acrid odour of tea and the sickly smells of stale bread and rank butterwere diffused through the room; but these were quickly dominated by thefumes of the malt. A bottle of port was decanted for the ladies. To thehost nothing was too much trouble; his guests must eat as well as drink, and he went down to the kitchen and helped the maid-servant to bring up allthe eatables that were in the house--some cold beef and cheese--and afterhaving partaken of these the company stretched themselves in their chairs. Hayes drank his whisky in silence, while Montgomery, his legs thrown overthe arm of his chair, tried to get in a word concerning the refrain of acomic song he had just finished scoring; but as the song was not going tobe sung in any of the pieces they were touring with, no one was interested, and Mortimer's talk about the regeneration of the theatre was becoming soboring that Leslie and Beaumont had begun to think of bedtime, and mighthave taken their departure if Dubois had not said that all the great Frenchactresses had lovers and that the English would do well to follow theirexamples. A variety of opinions broke forth, and everyone seemed to wakeup; anecdotes were told that brought the colour to Kate's cheeks and madeher feel uncomfortable. Dubois had lived a great deal in France; it was notcertain that he had not acted in French, and sitting with his bishop's hattilted on the back of his head, he related that Agar had described GeorgeSand as a sort of pouncing disease that had affected her health more thanall her other lovers put together. Dubois was declared to have insulted theprofession; Dick agreed that Dubois did not know what he was talkingabout--George Sand was a woman, not a man--and Montgomery, who had asister-in-law starring in Scotland, refused to be appeased until he wasasked to accompany Leslie and Bret in a duet. The thin man, as everybodynow called him, said he had never been so much touched in his life, astatement which Beaumont did her best to justify by going to the piano andsinging three songs one after another. The third was a signal fordeparture, and while Montgomery vowed under his breath that it was quiteenough to have to listen to Beaumont during business hours, Dick tried toawaken Hayes. He had fallen fast asleep. Their kind host said that he wouldput him up for the night, but the mummers thought they would be able to gethim home. So, bidding the kindest of farewells to their host, whom theyhoped they would see the following evening at the theatre, they stumbledinto the street, pushing and carrying the drunken man between them. It wasvery hard to get Hayes along; every ten or a dozen yards he would insist onstopping in the middle of the roadway to argue the value and the sincerityof the friendship his comrades bore for him. Mortimer strove to pacify him, saying that he would stand in a puddle all night if by doing so he mightprove that he loved him, and Dubois entreated him to believe him when hesaid that to sit with him under a cold September moon talking of the deardead days would be a bliss that he could not forego. But the comedian'sjokes soon began to seem idle and flat, and the ladies proposed to walk onin front, leaving the gentlemen to get their friend home as best theycould. 

'You're thinking of your beds, ' Dick cried, and that reminded him that thehotel-keeper had told him that he shut his doors at eleven and would openthem for no one before morning. 

'What are we to do?' asked Leslie; 'it's very cold. '

'We'll ring him up, ' said Dubois. 

'But if he doesn't answer?' suggested Bret. 

'I'll jolly soon make him answer, ' said Dick. 'Now then, Hayes, wake up, old man, and push along. '

'Pou-sh-al-long! How can--you--talk to me like that? Yer--yer--shuntingme--me--for one of those other fellows. '

'We'll talk about that in the morning, old man. Now, Mortimer, you get holdof his other arm and we'll run him along. '

Mr. Hayes struggled, declaring the while he would no longer believe in theworld's friendship; but with Montgomery pushing from behind, the lasthundred yards were soon accomplished, and the drunken burden depositedagainst the wall of the passage. 

Dick pulled the bell; the whole party listened to the distant tinkling, andafter a minute or two of suspense, Mortimer said:

'That won't do, Dick; ring again. We shall be here all night. '

Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, went the bell, and a husky voice, issuing from thedark shadow of the wall, said:

'I rang for another whisky, waiter, that's all. '

'The still-room maid has gone to sleep, sir, ' Mortimer answered; and thebell was rung again and again, and whilst one of the company was pulling atthe wire, another was hammering away with the knocker. All the same, noanswer could be obtained, and the mummers consulted Leslie and Bret, whoproposed that they should seek admittance at another hotel; Dubois, thatthey should beg hospitality of the other members of the company;Montgomery, that they should go back to the theatre. But the hotel-keeperhad no right to lock them out, and they had a perfect right to break intohis house, and the chances they ran of 'doing a week' were anxiouslydebated as they searched for a piece of wood to serve as a ram. None ofsufficient size could be found, much to the relief of the ladies andDubois, who strongly advised Dick to renounce this door-smashingexperiment. 

'Oh, Dick, pray don't, ' whispered Kate. 'What does it matter; it will bedaylight in a few hours. '

'That's all very well, but I tell you he has no right to lock us out; he'sa licensed hotel-keeper. Are you game, Mortimer? We can burst in the doorwith our shoulders. '

'Game!' said Mortimer, in a nasal note that echoed down the courtyard;'partridges are in season in September. Here goes!' and taking a run, hejumped with his full weight against the door. 

'Out of the way, ' cried Dick, breaking away from Kate, and hurling his hugeframe a little closer to the lock than the comedian had done. 

The excitement being now at boiling pitch, the work was begun in realearnest, and as they darted in regular succession out of the shadow of thebuttress across the clear stream of moonlight flowing down the flagstones, they appeared like a procession of figures thrown on a cloth by amagic-lantern. Mr. Hayes' white stocking served for a line, and bump, bump, they went against the door. Each effort was watched with different degreesof interest by the ladies. When little Dubois toddled forward, and sprangwith what little impetus his short legs could give him, it was difficultnot to laugh, and when Montgomery's reed-like shanks were seen passing, Kate clung to Miss Leslie in fear that he would crush his frail bodyagainst the door; but when it came to the turn of any of the big ones, theexcitement was great. Mortimer and Bret were watched eagerly, but mostfaith was placed in Dick, not only for his greater weight, but for hissuperior and more plucky way of jumping. Springing from the very middle ofthe passage, his head back and his shoulder forward, he went like athunderbolt against the door. It seemed wonderful that he did not bringdown the wall as well as the woodwork, and a round of applause rewardedeach effort. Hayes, who fancied himself in bed, and that the waiter wascalling him at some strange hour in the morning, shouted occasionally themost fearful of curses from his dark corner. The noise was terrific, andthe clapping of hands, shrieks of laughter, and cries of encouragementreverberated through the echoing passage and the silent moonlight. 

At last Dick's turn came again, and enraged by past failures, he put forthhis whole strength and jumped from the white stocking with his full weightagainst the door. It gave way with a crash, and at that moment theproprietor appeared, holding a candle in his hand. 

Everybody made a rush, and picking up Dick, who was not in the least hurt, they struck matches on the wall and groped their way up to their rooms, heedless of the denunciations of the enraged proprietor, who declared thathe would take an action against them all. In his dressing-gown, and by thelight of his candle, he surveyed his dismantled threshold, thinking how hemight fasten up his house for the night. The first object he caught sightof was Mr. Hayes' white stocking. As he did so a wicked light gleamed inhis eyes, and after a few efforts to awake the drunkard he walked to thegateway and looked up and down the street to see if a policeman were insight. In real truth he was doubtful as to his rights to lock visitors outof their hotel, and, did not feel disposed to discuss the question before amagistrate. But what could be said against him for requesting the removalof a drunken man? He did not know who he was, nor was he bound to find out. So argued the proprietor of the Hen and Chickens, and Mr. Hayes, stillprotesting he did not want to be called before ten, was dragged off to thestation. 

Next morning the hotel-keeper denied knowing anything whatever about thematter. It was true he had called the policeman's attention to the factthat there was a man asleep under the archway, but he did not know that theman was Mr. Hayes. This story was rejected by the company, and vowing thatthey would never again go within a mile of his shop, they all went to seepoor Hayes pulled out before the beak. It was a forty-shilling affair orthe option of a week, and in revenge, Dick invited last night's party todinner at a restaurant. They weren't going to put their money into thepocket of that cad of an inn-keeper. Hayes was the hero of the hour, and hemade everybody roar with laughter at the way in which he related hisexperiences. But after a time Dick, who had always an eye to business, drewhis chair up to Mortimer's, and begged of him to try to think of someallusions to the adventures which could be worked into the piece. Thequestion was a serious one, and until it was time to go to the theatre theart of gagging was warmly argued. Dubois held the most liberal views. Hesaid that after a certain number of nights the author's words should betotally disregarded in favour of topical remarks. Bret, who was slow ofwit, maintained that the dignity of a piece could only be maintained bysticking to the text, and cited examples to support his opinion. It was, however, finally agreed that whenever Mortimer came on the stage, he shouldsay, 'Derby isn't a safe place to get drunk in, ' and that Dubois shouldreply, 'Rather not. '

Owing to these little emendations, the piece went with a scream, thereceipts were over a hundred, and Morton and Cox's Operatic Company, havingdone a very satisfactory week's business, assembled at the station onSunday morning bound for Blackpool. 

Kate and Dick jumped into a compartment with the same people as before, plus a chorus-girl who was making up to Montgomery in the hopes of beingallowed to say on the entrance of the duke, 'Oh, what a jolly fellow heis!' Mortimer shouted to Hayes, who always went with the pipe-smokers, andDick spoke about the possibility of producing some new piece at Liverpool. Dubois, Mortimer, Bret, and the chorus-girl settled down to a game of nap. Dick, Leslie, and Montgomery were singing tunes or fragments of tunes toeach other, and talking about 'effects' that might be introduced into thenew piece. But would Dick produce a new piece?

The conversation changed, and it was asked if no money could be saved thistrip in the taking of the tickets, and Dick was closely questioned as towhen, in his opinion, it would be safe to try their little plant on again. Instead of answering he leant back, and gradually a pleasant smile began totrickle over his broad face. He was evidently maturing some plan. 'What isit, Dick? Do say like a good fellow, ' was repeated many times, but herefused to give any reply. This aroused the curiosity of the company, andit grew to burning pitch when the train drew up at a station and Dick begana conversation with the guard concerning the length of time they would haveat Preston, and where they would find the train that was to take them on toBlackpool. 

'You'll have a quarter of an hour's wait at Preston. You'll arrive there at4. 20 and at thirty-five past you'll find the train for Blackpool drawn upon the right-hand side of the station. '

'Thanks very much, ' replied Dick as he tipped the guard; and then, turninghis head towards his friends, he whispered, 'It's as right as a trivet; Ishall be back in a minute. '

'Where's he off to?' asked everybody. 

'He's just gone into the telegraph office, ' said Montgomery, who wasstationed at the window. 

A moment after Dick was seen running up the platform, his big hat givinghim the appearance of an American. As he passed each compartment of theircarriage he whispered something in at the window. 

'What can he be saying? What can he be arranging?' asked Miss Leslie. 

'I don't care how he arranges it as long as I get a drink on the cheap atPreston, ' said Mortimer. 

'That's the main point, ' replied Dubois. 

'Well, Dick, what is it?' exclaimed everybody, as the big man sat downbeside Kate. 

'The moment the train arrives at Preston we must all make a rush for therefreshment-rooms and ask for Mr. Simpson's lunch. '

'Who's Mr. Simpson? What lunch? Oh, do tell us! What a mysterious fellowyou are!' were the exclamations reiterated all the way along the route. Butthe only answer they received was, 'Now what does it matter who Mr. Simpsonis? Eat and drink all you can, and for the life of you don't ask who Mr. Simpson is, but only for his lunch. '

And as soon as the train stopped actors, actresses, chorus-girls and men, conductor, prompter, manager, and baggage-man rushed like a school towardsthe glass doors of the refreshment-room, where they found a handsomecollation laid out for forty people. 

'Where's Mr. Simpson's lunch?' shouted Dick. 

'Here, sir, here; all is ready, ' replied two obliging waiters. 

'Where's Mr. Simpson's lunch?' echoed Dubois and Montgomery. 

'This way, sir; what will you take, sir? Cold beef, chicken and ham, or alittle soup?' asked half a dozen waiters. 

The ladies were at first shy of helping themselves, and hung back a little, but Dick drove them on, and, the first step taken, they ate of everything. But Kate clung to Dick timidly, refusing all offers of chicken, ham, andcold beef. 

'But is this paid for?' she whispered to him. 

'Of course it is. Mr. Simpson's lunch. Take care of what you're sayin'. Tuck into this plate of chicken; will you have a bit of tongue with it?'and not having the courage to refuse, Kate complied in silence. Dickcrammed her pockets with cakes. But soon the waiters began to wonder at theabsence of Mr. Simpson, and had already commenced their inquiries. 

Approaching Mortimer, the head waiter asked that gentleman if Mr. Simpsonwas in the room. 

'He's just slipped round to the bookstall to get a Sunday paper. He'll beback in a minute, and if you'll get me another bit of chicken in themeantime I shall feel obliged. '

In five minutes more the table was cleared, and everybody made a movementto retire, and it was then that the refreshment-room people began toexhibit a very genuine interest in the person of Mr. Simpson. One waiterbegged of Dick to describe the gentleman to him, another besought of Duboisto say at what end of the table Mr. Simpson had had his lunch. In turn theyappealed to the ladies and to the gentlemen, but were always met with thesame answer. 'Just saw him a minute ago, going up to the station; if yourun after him you're sure to catch him. ' 'Mr. Simpson? Why, he was here aminute ago; I think he was speaking about sending a telegram; perhaps he'sup in the office. ' The train bell then rang, and, like a herd in motion, the whole company crowded to the train. The guard shouted, thepanic-stricken waiters tumbled over the luggage, and, running from carriageto carriage, begged to be informed as to Mr. Simpson's whereabouts. 

'He's in the end carriage, I tell you, back there, just at the other end ofthe train. '

The seedy black coats were then seen hurrying down the flags, but only toreturn in a minute, breathless, for further information. But this could notlast for ever, and the guard blew his whistle, the actors began gagging. And, oh, the singing, the whistling, the cheers of the mummers as the trainrolled away into the country, now all agleam with the sunset! Tattoos werebeaten with sticks against the woodwork of each compartment. Dick, with hisbody half out of the window and his curls blowing in the wind, yelled atHayes. Montgomery disputed with Dubois for possession of the other window, and three chorus-girls giggled and, munching stolen cakes, tried to getinto conversation with Kate. But though love had compensated her forvirtue, nothing could make amends to her for her loss of honesty. She couldbreak a moral law with less suffering than might be expected from herbringing up, but the sentiment the most characteristic, and naturally so, of the middle classes is a respect for the property of others; and she hadeaten of stolen bread. Oppressed and sickened by this idea, she shrank backin her corner, and filled with a sordid loathing of herself, she movedinstinctively away from Dick. 

At Blackpool Mr. Williams's pimply face was the first thing that greetedthem. There was the usual crowd of landladies who presented their cards andextolled the comfort and cleanliness of their rooms. One of these women wasintroduced and specially recommended by Mr. Williams. He declared that herplace was a little paradise, and an hour later, still plunged inconscientious regrets at having eaten a luncheon that had not been paidfor, Kate sat sipping her tea in a rose-coloured room. 

XIII

But next morning at Blackpool Kate woke up languid, and seeing Dick fastasleep, she thought it would be a pity to awaken him, and twisting herpretty legs out of bed, she went into the sitting-room, with the intentionof looking after Dick's breakfast, and found it laid out on the round tablein the rose-coloured sitting-room, the napery of exceeding whiteness. Thetwo armchairs drawn by the quietly burning fire inspired indolence, andtempted at once by the freshness of her dressing-gown and the warmth of theroom, she fell into a sort of happy reverie, from which she awoke in a fewminutes prompted by a desire to see Dick; to see him asleep; to awaken him;to talk to him; to upbraid him for his laziness. The room, full of theintimacy of their life, enchanted her, and half in shame, half in delight, she affected to arrange the pillows while he buttoned his collar. When thiswas accomplished she led him triumphantly to the breakfast table, and withone arm resting on his knees watched the white shapes of the eggs seenthrough the bubbling water. This was the great business of the morning. Hewould pay twopence apiece to have fresh eggs, and was most particular thatthey should be boiled for three minutes, and not one second more. Thelandlady brought up the beefsteak and the hot milk for the coffee, and ifany friend came in orders were sent down instantly for more food. Suchextravagance could not fail to astonish Kate, accustomed as she had beenfrom her earliest years to a strict and austere mode of life. Frequentlyshe begged of Dick to be more economical, but having always livedBohemian-like on the money easily gained, he paid very little attention towhat she said, beyond advising her to eat more steak and put colour intoher cheeks. And once the ice of habit was broken, she likewise began toabandon herself thoroughly to the pleasures of these rich warm breakfasts, and to look forward to the idle hours of digestion which followed, and thehappy dreams that could then be indulged in. Before the tea-things wereremoved Dick opened the morning paper, and from time to time read aloudscraps of whatever news he thought interesting. These generally concernedthe latest pieces produced in London; and, as if ignorant of the fact thatshe knew nothing of what he was speaking of, he explained to her his viewson the subject--why such and such plays would, and others would not, do forthe country. Kate listened with riveted attention, although she onlyunderstood half of what was told her, and the flattery of being taken intohis confidence was a soft and fluttering joy. In these moments all fearthat he would one day desert her died away like an ugly wind; and, with thenoise of the town drumming dimly in the distance, they abandoned themselvesto the pleasure of thinking of each other. Dick congratulated himself onthe choice he had made, and assured himself that he would never know againthe ennui of living alone. She was one of the prettiest women you could seeanywhere, and, luckily, not too exacting. In fact, she hadn't a fault if itweren't that she was a bit cold, and he couldn't understand how it was;women were not generally cold with him. The question interested himprofoundly, and as he considered it his glance wandered from the loose bluemasses of hair to the white satin shoe which she held to the red blaze. 

'Dick, do you think you'll always love me as you do now?'

'I'm sure of it, dear. '

'It seems to me, if one really loves once one must love always. But I don'tknow how I can talk to you like this, for how can you respect me? I've beenso very wicked. '

'What nonsense, Kate! How can you talk like that? I wouldn't respect you ifyou went on living with a man you didn't care about. '

'Well, I liked him well enough till you came, dear, but I couldn't then--itwasn't all my fault; but if you should cease to care for me I think Ishould die. But you won't; tell me that you won't, dear Dick. '

At that moment the door opened; it was Montgomery come to see them. Katejumped off Dick's knees, and, settling her skirts with the pretty movementof a surprised woman, threw herself into a chair on the opposite side ofthe fireplace. The musician had come to speak about his opera, especiallythe opening chorus, about which he could not make up his mind. 

'My boy, ' said Dick, 'don't be afraid of making it too long. There'snothing like having a good strong number to begin with--something with gripin it, you know. '

Montgomery looked vaguely into space; he was obviously not listening, butwas trying to follow out some musical scheme that was running in his head. After a long silence he said:

'What I can't make up my mind about is whether I ought to concert thatfirst number or have it sung in unison. Now listen. The scene is thewedding festivities of Prince Florimel, who is about to wed Eva, thedaughter of the Duke of Perhapsburg--devilish good name, you know. Wellthen, the flower-girls come on first, scattering flowers; they proceed twoby two and arrange themselves in line on both sides of the stage. They arefollowed by trumpeters and a herald; then come the ladies-in-waiting, thepages, the courtiers, and the palace servants. Very well; the first fourlines, you know--"Hail! hail! the festive day"--that, of course, is sungby the sopranos. '

'You surely don't want to concert that, do you?' interrupted Dick. 

'Of course not; you must think me an ignoramus. The first four lines aresung naturally in unison; then there is a repeat, in which the tenors andbasses are singing against the women's voices. By that time the stage willbe full. Well, then, what I'm thinking of doing, when I get to the secondpart, you know--"May the stars much pleasure send you, may romance and loveattend you, " is to repeat "May the stars. "'

'Oh, I see what you mean, ' said Dick, who began to grow interested. You'llgive "May the stars" first to the sopranos, and then repeat with the tenorsand basses?'

'That's it. I'll show you, ' replied Montgomery, rushing to the piano. 'Hereare the sopranos singing in G, "May the stars"; tenors, "May the stars";tenors and sopranos, "Much pleasure send you"; basses an octave lower, "Maythe stars--may stars. " Now I'm going to join them together--"May theStars. "'

Twisting round rapidly on the piano-stool, Montgomery pushed his glasseshigh up on his beak-like nose, and demanded an opinion. But before Dickcould say a word a kick of the long legs brought the musician again face tothe keyboard, and for several minutes he crashed away, occasionallyshouting forth an explanatory remark, or muttering an apology when hefailed to reach the high soprano notes. The lovesong, however, was too muchfor him, and, laughing at his own breakdown, he turned from the piano andconsented to resume the interrupted conversation. Then the plot and musicalsetting of Montgomery's new work was discussed. The names of Offenbach andHervé were mentioned; both were admitted to be geniuses, but the latter, itwas declared, would have been the greater had he had the advantage of amusical education. Various anecdotes were related as to how the latter hadachieved his first successes, and Montgomery, who questioned thepossibility of a man who could not write down the notes being able tocompose the whole score of an opera, maintained it was ridiculous to talkof dictating a finale. 

Kate often asked herself if she would ever be able to take part in theseartistic discussions; she was afraid not. Even when she succeeded inpicking up the thread of an idea, it soon got tangled with another, and shebegan to fear she would never know why Hervé was a better composer thanOffenbach, and why a certain quintette was written on classical lines andsuch-like. She asked Montgomery to explain things to her, but he was moreanxious to speak of his own music, and when the names of the ladies of thecompany were being run over in search of one who could take the part of apage, with a song and twenty lines of dialogue to speak, Dick said:

'Well, perhaps it isn't for me to say it, but I assure you that I don'tknow a nicer soprano voice than Mrs. Ede's. '

'Ho, ho!' cried Montgomery, twisting his legs over the arm of the chair, 'how is it I never heard of this before? But won't you sing something, Mrs. Ede? If you have any of your songs here I'll try the accompaniment over. '

Kate, who did not know a crotchet from a semiquaver, grew frightened atthis talk of trying over accompaniments, and tried to stammer out someapologies and excuses. 

'Oh, really, Mr. Montgomery, I assure you Dick is only joking. I don't singat all--I don't know anything about music. '

'Don't you mind her; 'tis as I say: she's got a very nice soprano voice;and as for an ear, I never knew a better in my life. There's no singingflat there, I can tell you. But, seriously speaking, ' he continued, takingpity on Kate, whose face expressed the agony of shame she was suffering, 'of course I know well enough she don't know how to produce her voice; shenever had a lesson in her life, but I think you'll agree with me, when youhear it, that the organ is there. Do sing something, Kate. '

Kate cast a beseeching glance at her lover, and murmured someunintelligible words, but they did not save her. Montgomery crossed himselfover the stool, and, after running his fingers over the keys, said:

'Now, sing the scale after me--do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, la--that's thenote; try to get that clear--sol, do!' and Kate, not liking to disobligeDick, sang the scale after Montgomery in the first instance, and then, encouraged by her success, gave it by herself, first in one octave and thenin the other. 'Well, don't you agree with me?' said Dick. 'The organ isthere, and there's no fluffing the notes; they come out clear, don't they?'

'They do indeed, ' replied Montgomery, casting a warm glance of admirationat Kate; 'but I should so much like to hear Mrs. Ede sing a song. '

'Oh, I really couldn't--'

'Nonsense! Sing the song of "The Bells" in the _Cloches_, ' said Dick, taking her by the arm. She pleaded and argued, but it was no use, and whenat last it was decided she was to sing, Montgomery, who had in the meantimebeen trying the finale of his first act in several different ways, stoppedshort and said suddenly:

'Oh, I beg your pardon; you're going to sing the song of "The Bells. " I'lltell you when to begin--now, "Though they often tell us of our ancientmasters. "'

When Kate had finished singing Montgomery spun round, bringing himself faceto face with Dick, and speaking professionally, said:

''Pon my word, it's extraordinary. Of course it is a head voice, but assoon as we get a few chest notes--you know I don't pretend to be able toteach singing, but after a year's training under my grandfather Beaumontwouldn't be in the same street with you. '

'Yes, but as he isn't here, ' replied Dick, who always kept an eye on thepossible, 'don't you think it would be as well for her to learn a littlemusic?'

'I shall be only too delighted to teach Mrs. Ede the little I know myself. I'll come in the morning, and we'll work away at the piano; and you know, 'continued Montgomery, who began to regret the confession of his inabilityto teach singing, 'although I don't pretend to be able to do what mygrandfather could with a voice, still, I know something about it. I used toattend all his singing-classes, and am pretty well up in his method, and--and--if Mrs. Ede likes, I shall be only too happy to do some singingwith her; and, between you and me, I think that in a few lessons I couldget rid of that throatiness, and show her how to get a note or two from thechest. '

'I'm sure you could, my boy; and I shall be delighted with you if you will. Of course we must consider it as a matter of business. '

'Oh, nonsense, nonsense, between pals!' exclaimed Montgomery, who saw aperspective of long hours passed in the society of a pretty woman--a luxurywhich his long nose and scraggy figure prevented him from indulging in asfrequently as he desired. 

After some further discussion, it was arranged that Montgomery should callround some time after breakfast, and that Dick should then leave themtogether to work away at do, re, mi, fa. Hamilton's system was purchased, and it surprised and amused Kate to learn that the notes between the spacesspelt 'face. ' But it was in her singing lessons that she took the mostinterest, and her voice soon began to improve both in power and quality. She sang the scales for three-quarters of an hour daily, and before the endof the week she so thoroughly satisfied Montgomery in her rendering of aballad he had bought for her that he begged Dick to ask a few of the 'Co. 'in to tea next Sunday evening. The shine would be taken out of Beaumont, hedeclared with emphasis. Kate, however, would not hear of singing beforeanybody for the present, and she gave up going to the theatre in theevening so that she might have two or three hours of quiet to studymusic-reading by herself. In the morning she woke to talk of Montgomery, who generally came in while they were at breakfast; and when the lesson wasover he would often stop on until they were far advanced in the afternoon;and, looking at each other from time to time, they spoke of the next townthey were going to, and alluded to the events of their last journey. Katewould have liked to speak much of Dick, but she felt ashamed, and listenedwith interest to all Montgomery told her of himself, of the difficulties hehad to contend against, of his hopes for the future. He spoke a great dealof his opera, and often sprang up in the middle of a sentence to give apractical illustration of his meaning on the instrument. But these musicaldigressions did not weary Kate, and to the best of her ability she judgedthe different versions of the finale. 'Give the public what they want, ' washis motto, and he intended to act up to it. He had written two or threecomic songs that had been immense successes, not to speak of the yards ofpantomime music he had composed, and he knew that when he got hold of agood book in three acts he'd be able to tackle it. What he was doing nowwas not much more than a curtain-raiser; but never mind, that was the wayto begin. You couldn't expect a manager to trust you with the piece of theevening until you'd proved that you could interest the public in smallerwork. At this point of the argument Montgomery generally spoke of Dick, whom he declared was a dear good fellow, who would be only too glad to givea pal a lift when the time came. Kate, on her side, longed to hearsomething of her lover from an outside source. All she knew of him she hadlearned from his own lips. Montgomery, in whose head all sorts of reveriesconcerning Kate were floating, was burning to talk to her of her lover, andto hear from her own lips of the happiness which he imagined a true andperfect affection bestowed upon human life. Kate had not spoken on thisimportant subject; and Montgomery, for fear of wounding her feelings, hadavoided it; but they were conscious that the restraint jarred theirintimacy. One afternoon Dick suddenly burst in upon them, and after somepreamble told them that he had arranged to meet there some gentleman withwhom he had important business to transact. Montgomery took up his hat andprepared to go, and Kate offered to sit with the landlady in the kitchen. 

'I'm afraid you'll bore yourself, dear, ' Dick said after a pause. 'But I'lltell you what you might do--I shan't be able to take you out to-day. Whynot go for a walk with Montgomery?'

'I shall be delighted; I'll take you for a charming walk up the hill, andshow you the whole town. '

Kate had no objection to make, and she returned to the sitting-room soonerthan they expected her. 'A quick-change artist, ' Dick said. 

She wore a brown costume, trimmed with feathers to match; a small bonnetcrowned the top of her head, and her face looked adorably coquettish amidthe big bows into which she had tied the strings. Her companion was veryconscious of this fact, and with his heart full of pride he occasionallyjerked his head round to watch the passers-by, doubting at the same time ifany were as happy as he. 

It was a great pleasure to be alone with Kate in the open air, walking byher side, escorting her, and telling her as they walked all he knew aboutBlackpool: that it bore the same relation to the other towns of Lancashireas the seventh day does to the other six of the week; that it was the hugeLancashire Sunday, where the working classes of Accrington, Blackburn, Preston, and Burnley, during a week or a fortnight of the year, go torecreate themselves. 

'The streets are built with large pavements, ' he told her, 'so thatjostling may be avoided, and there are many open spaces where people mayloiter and congregate; the bonnets exhibited in the plate-glass windows, you can see, are obviously intended for holiday wear. ' She stopped to lookat these. 'Not one, ' he said, 'is as pretty as the one you're wearing. '

'It's a pretty little hat, ' she answered, and he pointed to thespider-legged piers and to a high headland, a sort of green cap over theocean. 

'Do you know that the fellow who owns that building has made a fortune?'said Montgomery, pointing to the roofs which began to appear above the edgeof the common. 

'Did he really?' replied Kate, trying to appear interested. 

'Yes; he began with a sort of shanty where he sold ginger-beer andlemonade. It became the fashion to go out there, and now he's gotdining-rooms and a spirit licence. We went up there last week, a lot of us, and we had such fun; we went donkey-riding, and Leslie had a fall. Did shetell you of it?'

'No; I've scarcely spoken to her for the last few days. '

'How's that? I thought you were such friends. '

'I like her very much; but she's always on the stage at night, and I don'tlike--I mean I should like--but I don't know that she would like me to goand see her. '

'And why not, pray?'

'Well, I thought she mightn't like me to come and see her, because, I'm--well, on account of Dick. '

'There's nothing between them now; that's all over ages ago, and she's deadnuts on Bret. '

Kate had been nearly a fortnight with the mummers, but she had lived almostapart. She had not yet learnt that in the company she was in no opprobriumwas attached to the fact of a woman having a lover, and she still supposedthat because she had left her husband Leslie might not like to associatewith her. To learn, then, that she had only replaced another woman inDick's affections came upon her with a shock, and it was the verysuddenness of the blow that saved her from half the pain; for it wasimpossible for a woman who saw in the world nothing but the sacrifice shehad made for the man she loved, to realize the fact that Dick's love of herwas a toy that had been taken up, just as love of Miss Leslie was a toythat had been laid down. It did not occur to her to think that the man shewas living with might desert her, nor did she experience any very cruelpangs of jealousy; she was more startled than anything else by theappearance of a third person in the world which for the last week hadseemed so entirely her own. 

'What do you mean?' she said, stopping abruptly. 'Was Dick in love withMiss Leslie before he knew me?'

Montgomery coloured, and strove to improvise excuses. 

'No, ' he said, 'of course he wasn't really in love with her; but we used tochaff him about her; that's all. '

'Why should you do that, when she is in love with Bret?' said Kate harshly. 

Montgomery, who dreaded a quarrel with Dick as he would death, grasped at abit of truth to help him out of his difficulty. 

'But I assure you Bret and Leslie's affair only began a couple of monthsago, when we first went out on tour. We joked Dick about her to vex him, that's all. If you don't believe me, you can ask the rest of the company. '

To this Kate made no reply, and with her eyes upon the ground she remainedfor some moments thinking. The light and the matter-of-course way in whichher companion spoke of the affections troubled her exceedingly, and verynaïvely she asked herself if the company did not admit fornication amongthe sins. 

''Tis too bad to be taken up in that way, ' he said. 'There's always a bitof chaff going on; but if it were all taken for gospel truth I don't knowwhere we should be. I give you my word of honour that I don't think he everlooked twice at her; anyhow, he didn't hesitate between you; nor could he, for, of course, you know you're a fifty times prettier woman. '

Kate answered the flattery with a delightful smile, and Montgomery thoughtthat he had convinced her. But the young man was deceived by appearances. He had succeeded more in turning the current of her thoughts than inpersuading her. 

'You seem to think very lightly of such things, ' she said, raising herbrown eyes with a look that melted her face to a heavenly softness. 

Montgomery did not understand, and she was forced to explain. This wasdifficult to do, but, after a slight hesitation, she said:

'Then you really do believe that Miss Leslie and Mr. Bret are lovers?'

'Oh, I really don't know, ' he said hastily, for he saw himself drawn into afresh complication; 'I never pry into other people's affairs. They seem tolike each other, that's all. '

It was now Kate's turn to see that indiscreet questions might lead to thequarrels she was most anxious to avoid, and they walked along the breezycommon in silence, seeing the sea below them, and far away the weedy wasteof stone filled with the white wings of gulls, touched here and there withthe black backs of the shrimp-fishers. 

'How strange it is that the sea should go and come like that! I'd neverseen it as it is now till the day before yesterday, and Dick was so amused, for I thought it was going to dry up. The morning after our arrival here wesat down by the bathing-boxes on the beach and listened to the waves. Theyroared along the shore. It's very wonderful. Don't you think so?'

'Yes, indeed I do. When I was here before, I spent one whole morninglistening to the waves, and their surging suggested a waltz to me. This isthe way it went, ' and leaning on the rough paling that guarded theprecipitous edge, Montgomery sang his unpublished composition. 'I never gotany further, ' he said, stopping short in the middle of the second part; 'Isomehow lost the character of the thing; but I like the opening. '

'Oh, so do I. I wonder how you can think of such tunes. How clever you mustbe!'

Montgomery smiled nervously, and he proposed that they should go over tothe hotel to have a drink. 

'Oh, I don't like to go up there, ' she said, after examining for somemoments this hillside bar-room. 'There're too many men. '

'What does it matter? We'll have a table to ourselves. Besides, you'dbetter have something to eat, for now we're out we may as well stay out. There's no use going back yet awhile;' and he talked so rapidly of hiswaltz--of whether he should call it the 'Wave, ' the 'Seashore, ' or the'Cliff, ' that he didn't give her time to collect her thoughts. 

'I can't go in there, ' she said; 'why, it's only a public-house. '

'Everybody comes up here to have a drink. It's quite the fashion. '

The men round the doorway stared at her, and seeing some of thechorus-girls coming from where the donkeys were stationed, in the companyof young men with high collars and tight trousers, she almost ran into thebar-room. 

'Now you see what a scrape you've led me into, I wouldn't have met thosepeople for anything. '

'What does it matter? If it were wrong do you think I'd bring you in here?You ask Dick when you get home. '

A doubt of the possibility of Dick thinking anything wrong clouded Kate'smind, and Montgomery ordered sandwiches and two brandies-and-sodas. Thesandwiches were excellent, and Kate, who had scarcely tasted anything butbeer in her life, thought the brandy-and-soda very refreshing. The questionthen came of how to get out of the place, and after much hesitation andconjecturing, they slipped out the back way through the poultry-yard andstables. 

In front of them was a very steep path that led to the sea strand. Largemasses of earth had given way, and these had formed ledges which, in turn, had somehow become linked together, and it was possible to climb downthese. 

'Do you think you could manage?' he said, holding out his hand. 

'I don't know; do you think it dangerous?'

'No, not if you take care; but the cliff is pretty high; it would not do tofall over. Perhaps you'd better come back across the common by the road. '

'And meet all those girls?'

'I don't see why you should be afraid of meeting them, ' said Montgomery, who was secretly anxious to show the chorus that if he were not thepossessor, he was at least on intimate terms of friendship with this prettywoman. 

'No, I'd sooner not meet them, and coming out of a public-house; I don'tsee why we shouldn't come down this way. I'm sure I can manage it if you'llgive me your hand and go first. '

The descent then began. Kate's high-heeled boots were hard to walk in, andevery now and then her feet would fail her, and she would utter littlecries of fear, and lean against the cliff's side. It was delightful toreassure her, and Montgomery profited by those occasions to lay his handsupon her shoulders and hold her arms in his hands. No human creature was inhearing or in sight, and solitude seemed to unite them, and the mimicdanger of the descent to endear them to each other. The quiet andenchantment of earth and air melted into her thoughts until she enjoyed aperfect bliss of unreasoned emotion. He, too, was conscious of the day, andhis happiness, touched with a diffused sense of desire, was intense, evento a savour of bitterness. Like all young men, he longed to complete hisyouth by some great passion, but out of horror of the gross sensualitieswith which he was always surrounded, his delicate artistic nature tookrefuge in a half-platonic affection for his friend's mistress. It was aninfinite pleasure, and could it have lasted for ever he would not havethought of changing it. To take her by the hand and help her to cross theweedy stones; to watch her pretty stare of wonderment when he explainedthat the flux and the reflux of the tides were governed by the moon; tohear her speak of love, and to dream what that love might be, was enough. 

Along the coast there were miles and miles of reaches, and to gain the seathey were obliged to make many detours. Sometimes they came upon longstretches of sand separated by what seemed to them to be a river, andMontgomery often proposed that he should carry Kate across the streamlet. But she would not hear of it, although on one occasion she did not refuseuntil he had placed his arms around her waist. Escaping from him, she ranalong the edge, saying she would find a crossing. Montgomery pursued her, amused by the fluttering of her petticoats; but after a race of twenty orthirty yards, they found that their discovered river was only a long poolthat owned no outlet to the sea, and they both stopped like disappointedchildren. 

'Well, never mind, ' said Kate; 'did you ever see such beautiful clearwater? I must have a drink. '

'You've no cup, ' he said, turning away so that she should not see himlaughing. 'You might manage to get up a little in your hands. '

'So I might. Oh, what fun! Tell me how I'm to do it. '

He told her how to hollow her hands, and waited to enjoy the result, and, forgetful that the sea was salt she lifted the brine to her lips; but whenshe spat out the horrible mouthful and turned on him a questioning face, heonly answered that if she didn't take care she would be the death of him. 

'And didn't ums know the sea was salt, and did ums think it very nasty, andnot half as nice as a brandy-and-soda?'

Kate watched him for a moment, and then her face clouded, and pouting herpretty lips, she said:

'Of course I don't pretend to be as clever as you, but if you'd never seenthe sea until a week ago you might forget. '

'Yes, yes, for-for-get that it--it wasn't as nice as brandy-and-soda, 'cried Montgomery, holding his sides. 

'I wasn't going to say that, and it was very rude of you to interrupt me inthat way. '

'Now come, don't get cross. You should understand a joke better than that, 'he replied, for seeing the tears in her eyes he began to fear that he hadspoilt the delight of their day. 

'I think it is unkind of you to laugh at me and play tricks on me likethat, ' said Kate, trying to master her emotion; and as they walked underthe sunset, Montgomery broke long and irritating silences by apologizingfor his indiscretion, but Kate did not answer him until they arrived at aplace where a little boy and girl were fishing for shrimps. Here there wasquite a little lake, and amid the rocks and weedy stones the clear waterflowed as it might in an aquarium, the liquid surface reflecting asperfectly as any mirror the sky's blue, with clouds going by and manydelicate opal tints, and the forms of the children's plump limbs. 

'Oh, how nice they look! What little dears!' exclaimed Kate, but as shepressed forward to watch the children her foot dislodged a young lobsterfrom the corner of rock in which he had been hiding. 

'That's a lobster, ' cried Montgomery. 

'Is it?' cried Kate, and she pursued the ungainly thing, which soughtvainly for a crevice. 

After an animated chase, with the aid of her parasol she caught it, and wasabout to take it up with her fingers when Montgomery stopped her. 

'You'd better take care; it will pretty well nip the fingers off you. '

'You aren't joking?' she asked innocently. 

'No, indeed I'm not; but I hope you don't mind my telling you. '

At that moment their eyes met, and Kate, seeing how foolish she had been, burst into fits of laughter. 

'No, no, no, I--I don't mind your telling me that--that a lobster bites, but--'

'But when it comes to saying sea-water is not as nice as brandy-and-soda, 'he replied, bursting into a roar of merriment, 'we cut up rough, don't we?'

The children climbed up on the rocks to look at them, and it was some timebefore Kate could find words to ask them to show what they had caught. 

The little boy was especially clever at his work, and regardless of wettinghimself, he plunged into the deepest pools, intercepting with his net atevery turn the shrimps that vainly sought to escape him. His little sister, too, was not lacking in dexterity, and between them they had filled afairly-sized basket. Kate examined everything with an almost feverishinterest. She tore long gluey masses of seaweed from the rocks and insistedon carrying them home; the mussels she found on the rocks interested her;she questioned the little shrimp fishers for several minutes about a deadstarfish, and they stared in open-eyed amazement, thinking it very strangethat a grown-up woman should ask such questions. At last the little boyshowed her what she was to do with the lobster. He wedged the claws withtwo bits of wood, and attached a string whereby she might carry it in herhand, and in silences that were only interrupted by occasional words theypicked their way along the strand. 

Kate thought of Dick--of what he was doing, of what he was saying. She sawhim surrounded by men; there were glasses on the table. She looked into hislarge, melancholy blue eyes, and dreamed of the time she would again sit onhis knees and explain to him for the hundredth time that love wasall-sufficing, and that he who possessed it could possess nothing more. Montgomery was also thinking of Dick, and for the conquest of so pretty awoman the dreamy-minded musician viewed his manager with admiration. Themorality of the question did not appeal to him, and his only fear was thatKate would one day be deserted. 'If so, I shall have to support her. ' Hethought of the music he would have to compose--songs, all of which would bededicated to her. 

'Have you known Dick, ' she asked suddenly, 'a long time?'

'Two or three years or so, ' replied Montgomery, a little abashed at aquestion which sounded at that moment like a distant echo of his ownthoughts. 'Why do you ask?'

'For no particular reason, only you seem such great friends. '

'Yes, I like him very much; he's a dear good fellow, he'd divide his lastbob with a pal. '

The conversation then came to a pause. Both suddenly remembered how theyhad set out on their walk determined to seek information of each other oncertain subjects. 

Montgomery wished to hear from Kate how Dick had persuaded her to run awaywith him; Kate wanted to learn from Montgomery something of her lover'sprivate life--if he were faithful to a woman when he loved her, if he hadbeen in love with many women before. 

As she considered how she would put her questions a grey cloud passed overher face, and she thought of Leslie. But just as she was going to speakMontgomery interrupted her. He said:

'You didn't know Dick before he came to lodge in your house at Hanley, didyou?'

Kate raised her eyes with a swift and startled look, but being anxious tospeak on the subject she replied, speaking very softly:

'No, and perhaps it would have been well if he had never come to my house. '

There was not so much insincerity in the phrase as may at first appear. Nearly all women consider it necessary to maintain to themselves and toothers that they deeply regret having sinned. The delusion at once pleasesand consoles them, and they cling to it to the last. 

'I often think of you, ' said Montgomery. 'Yours appears to me such aromantic story ... You who sat all day and mi-mi--' he was going to sayminding a sick husband, but for fear of wounding her feelings he alteredthe sentence to 'and never, or hardly ever, left Hanley in your life, should be going about the country with us. '

Kate, who guessed what he had intended saying, answered:

'Yes, I'm afraid I've been very wicked. I often think of it and you mustdespise me. That's what makes me ashamed to go about with the rest of thecompany. I'm always wondering what they think of me. Tell me, do tell methe truth; I don't mind hearing it. What do they say about me? Do theyabuse me very much?'

'Abuse you? They abuse you for being a pretty woman, I suppose; but as foranything else, good heavens! they'd look well! Why, you're far the mostrespectable one among the lot. Don't you know that?'

'I suspected Beaumont was not quite right, perhaps; but you don't mean tosay there isn't one? Not that little thing with fair hair who sings in thechorus?'

'Well, yes, they say she's all right. There are one or two, perhaps; butwhen it comes to asking me if Beaumont and Leslie are down on you--well!'Montgomery burst out laughing. 

This decided expression of opinion was grateful to Kate's feelings, and theconversation might have been pursued with advantage, but seeing anopportunity of speaking of Dick, she said:

'But you told me there was nothing between Mr. Bret and Miss Leslie. '

'I told you I didn't know whether there was or not; but I'm quite surethere never was between her and Dick. You see I can guess what you'retrying to get at. '

'I can scarcely believe it. Now I think of it, I remember she was in hisroom the night of the row, when he turned me out. '

'Yes, yes; but there were a lot of us. The principals in a companygenerally stick together. It's extraordinary how you women will keep onnagging at a thing. I swear to you that I'm as certain as I stand herethere was never anything between them. Do let us talk of something else. '

They had now wandered back to the fine pebbly beach, to within a hundredyards of the pier, and above the high cliff they could just see the redchimney-stacks of the town. 

Montgomery sang his waltz softly over, but before he arrived at the secondpart his thoughts wandered, and he said:

'Have you heard anything of your husband since you left Hanley?'

The abruptness of the question made Kate start; but she was not offended, and she answered:

'No, I haven't. I wonder what he'll do. '

'Possibly apply for a divorce. If he does, you'll be able to marry Dick. '

A flush of pleasure passed over Kate's face, and when she raised her eyesher look seemed to have caught some of the brightness of the sunset. But itdied into grey gloom even as the light above, and she said sighing:

'I don't suppose he'd marry me. '

'Well, if he wouldn't, there are lots who would. '

'What do you mean?' asked Kate simply. 

'Oh, nothing; only I should think that anyone would be glad to marry you, 'the young man answered, hoping that she would not repeat the conversationto her lover. 

'I hope he will; for if he were to leave me, I think I should die. But tellme--you will, won't you? For you are my friend, aren't you?'

'I hope so, ' he replied constrainedly. 

'Well, tell me the truth: do you think he can be constant to a woman? Doeshe get tired easily? Does he like change?'

Kate laid her hand on Montgomery's shoulder, and looked pleadingly in hisface. 

'Dick is an awful good fellow, and I'm sure he couldn't but behave well toanyone he liked--not to say loved; and I know that he never cared foranybody as he does for you; he as much as told me. '

Kate's smile was expressive of pleasure and weariness, and after a pause, she said:

'I hope what you say is true; but I don't think men ever love as women do. When we give our heart to one man, we cannot love another. I don't knowwhy, but I don't believe that a man could be quite faithful to a woman. '

'That's all nonsense. I'm sure that if I loved a woman it wouldn't occur tome to think of another. '

'Perhaps you might, ' she answered; and, unconsciously comparing them withDick's jovial features, she examined intently the enormous nose and thehollow, sunken cheeks. Montgomery wondered what she was thinking of, and hehalf guessed that she was considering if it were possible that any womancould care for him. To die without ever having been able to inspire anaffection was a fear that was habitual to him, and often at night he layawake, racked by the thought that his ugliness would ever debar him fromattaining this dearly desired end. 

'Were you ever in love with anybody?' she asked, after a long silence. 

'Yes, once. '

'And did she care for you?'

'Yes, I think she did at first. We used to meet at dinner every day; butthen she fell in love with an acrobat--I suppose you would call him anacrobat--I mean one of those gutta-percha men who tie their legs in a knotover their heads. The child was deformed. I was awfully cut up about it atthe time, but it's all over now. '

The conversation then came to a pause. Kate did not like to ask any furtherquestions, but as she stared vaguely at the pale sun setting, she wonderedwhat the acrobat was like, and how a girl could prefer a gutta-percha manto the musician. As the minutes passed, the silence grew more irritating, and the evening colder. 

'I'm afraid we shall catch a chill if we remain here much longer, saidMontgomery, who had again begun to sing his waltz over. 

'Yes, I think we'd better be getting home, ' Kate answered dreamily. 

After some searching, they found a huge stairway cut for the use of bathersin the side of the cliff, and up this feet-torturing path Montgomery helpedKate carefully and lovingly. 

XIV

From Blackpool Morton and Cox's opera company proceeded to Southport, and, still going northward, they visited Newcastle, Durham, Dundee, Glasgow, andEdinburgh. But in no one town did they remain more than a week. Every Sundaymorning, regardless as swallows of chiming church-bells, they met at thestation and were whirled as fast as steam could take them to new streets, lodging-houses, and theatres. To Kate this constant change was at oncewearying and perplexing, and she often feared that she would never becomeaccustomed to her new mode of life. But on the principle that we canscarcely be said to be moving when all around is moving in a likeproportion, Kate learned to regard locality as a mere nothing, and to fixher centre of gravity in the forty human beings who were wandering withher, bound to her by the light ties of _opéra bouffe_. 

Wherever she went her life remained the same. She saw the same faces, heardthe same words. Were they likely to do good business? was debated when theyalighted from the train; that they had or had not done good business wasaffirmed when they jumped into the train. Soon even the change ofapartments ceased to astonish her, and she saw nothing surprising in thefact that her chest of drawers was one week on the right and the followingon the left-hand side of her bed. Nor did she notice after two or threemonths of travelling whether wax flowers did or did not decorate thecorners of her sitting-room, and it seemed to her of no moment whether theVenetian blinds were green or brown. The dinners she ate were as good inone place as in another; the family resemblance which slaveys bear to eachother satisfied her eyes, and the difference of latitude and longitudebetween Glasgow and Aberdeen she found did not in the least alter her dailyoccupations. 

Montgomery came to see her every morning, and the tunefulness of the pianowas really all that reminded them of their change of residence. From twelveuntil three they worked at music, both vocal and instrumental. Dick soughtfor excuses to absent himself, but when he returned he always insisted thatMontgomery should remain to dinner. All formalities between them wereabolished, and Kate did not hesitate to sit on her lover's knees in thepresence of her music-master. But he did not seem to care, he only laugheda little nervously. Kate sometimes wondered if he really dislikedwitnessing such familiarities. In her heart of hearts she was consciousthat there were affinities of sentiment between them, and during the musiclessons they talked continually of love. The sight of Montgomery's lankyface often interrupted an emotional mood, but she recovered it again whenhe sat looking at her, talking to her of his music. In this way he became anecessity to her existence, a sort of spiritual light. They never weariedof talking about Dick; between them it was always Dick, Dick, Dick! He toldher anecdotes concerning him--how he had acted certain parts; how he hadstage-managed certain pieces; of supper parties; of adventures they hadbeen engaged in. These stories amused Kate, although the odour of woman inwhich they were bathed, as in an atmosphere, annoyed and troubled her. Asif to repay him for his kindness, she became confidential, and one day shetold him the story of her life. 

It would, she said, were it taken down, make the most wonderful story-bookever written; and beginning at the beginning, she gave rapidly an accountof her childhood, accentuating the religious and severe manner in which shehad been brought up, until the time she and her mother made theacquaintance of the Edes. There it was necessary to hesitate. She did notwish to tell an absolute lie, but was yet desirous to convey the impressionthat her marriage with Mr. Ede had been forced upon her; but Montgomery hadalready accepted it as a foregone conclusion. With his fingers twistedthrough his hair, and his head thrust forward in the position in which weare accustomed to see composers seeking inspiration depicted, he listened, passionately interested. And when it came to telling of the mental struggleshe had gone through when struggling between her love for Dick and her dutytowards her husband, Montgomery's face, under the influence of manyemotions, straightened and contracted. He asked a hundred questions, andwas anxious to know what she had thought of Dick when she saw him for thefirst time. She told him all she could remember. Her account of the visitto the potteries proved very amusing, but before she told him of their fallamid the cups and saucers she made Montgomery swear he would never breathea word. 'Oh, the devil! Was that the way he cut his legs? He told us thathe had forgotten his latchkey, and that he had done it in getting over thegarden-wall. '

Running his hand over the piano, Montgomery begged of Kate to continue herstory; but as she proceeded with the analysis of her passion the eventsbecame more and more difficult to narrate; and she knew not how to tell thetale how one dark night her husband sent her down to open the door to Dick;but she must tell everything so that the whole of the blame should not fallupon him. She alluded vaguely to violence and to force; Montgomery's facedarkened and he protested against his friend's conduct. 

To Kate it was consoling to meet someone who thought she was not entirelyto blame, and the conversation came to a pause. 

'And now I'm going about the country with you all, and am thinking of goingon the stage. '

'And will be a success, too--that I'll bet my life. '

'Do you really think so? Do tell me the real truth; do you think I shallever be able to sing?'

'I'm sure of it. '

'Well, I'm glad to hear you say so, for it's now more necessary than ever. '

'How do you mean? Has anything fresh happened? You're not on bad terms withDick, are you? Tell me. '

'Oh, not the least! Dick is very good to me; but if I tell you somethingyou promise not to mention it?'

'I promise. '

'Well, we were--I don't know what you call it--summoned, I think--by a manbefore we left Blackpool to appear in the Divorce Court. '

For nearly half a minute they looked at each other in silence; thenMontgomery said:

'I suppose it was after all about the best thing that could happen. '

This answer surprised Kate. 'Why, ' she said, 'do you think it's the bestthing that could happen to me?'

'Because when you get your divorce, if you play your cards well, you'll beable to get Dick to marry you. '

Kate made no reply, and for some time both considered the question insilence. She wondered if Dick loved her sufficiently to make such asacrifice for her: Montgomery reflected on the best means of persuading hisfriend 'to do right by the woman. ' At last he said:

'But what did you mean just now when you said that it was more necessarythan ever that you should go on the stage?'

'I don't know, only that if I'm going to be divorced I suppose I'd bettersee what I can do to get my living. '

'Well, it isn't my fault if you aren't on the stage already. I've beentrying to induce you to make up your mind for the last month past. '

'Oh, the chorus! that horrid chorus! I never could walk about before awhole theatre full of people in those red tights. '

'There's nothing indecent in wearing tights. Our leading actresses play intravestie. In Faust Trebelli Bettini wears tights, and I'm sure no one cansay anything against her. '

Tights were a constant subject of discussion between the three, friend, mistress, and lover. All sorts of arguments had been adduced, but none ofthem had shaken Kate's unreasoned convictions on this point. A sense ofmodesty inherited through generations rose to her head, and a feeling ofrepugnance that seemed almost invincible, forbade her to bare herself thusto the eyes of a gazing public. But although inborn tendencies cannot beeradicated, the will that sustains them can be broken by force ofcircumstances, and her resolutions began to fail her when Dick declaredthat the thirty shillings a week she would thus earn would be a realassistance to them. 

In reality the manager had no immediate need of the money, but it wentagainst his feelings to allow principles, and above all principles he couldnot but think absurd, to stand in the way of his turning over a bit ofcoin. 'Besides, he said, 'how can I put you into a leading business all atonce? No matter how well you knew your words, you'd dry up when you gotbefore the footlights. You must get over your stage fright in the chorus. On the first occasion I'll give you a line to speak, then two or three, andthen when you've learnt to blurt them out without hesitation, we'll seeabout a part. '

These and similar phrases were dinned into her ears, until at last thematter got somehow decided, and the London costumier was telegraphed to fora new dress. When it arrived a few days after, the opening of the packagecaused a good deal of merriment. Dick held up the long red stockings, asKate called the tights, before Montgomery. It was too late now to retract. The dress looked beautiful, and tempted on all sides, she consented toappear that night in _Les Cloches_. So at half-past six she walkeddown to the theatre with her bundle under her arm. Dick had not allotted toher a dressing-room, and to avoid Miss Beaumont, who was always rude, shewent of her own accord up to number six. An old woman opened the door toher, and when Kate had explained what she had come for, she said:

'Very well, ma'am. I'm sure I don't mind; but we're already eight in thisroom, and have only one basin and looking-glass between the lot. I'm afraidyou won't be very comfortable. '

'Oh! that won't matter. It may be only for to-night. If I'm too much in theway I'll ask Mr. Lennox to put me somewhere else. '

On that Kate entered. It was a long, narrow, whitewashed room, smellingstrongly of violet-powder and clothes. Nobody had arrived yet, and thedresses lay spread out on chairs awaiting the wearers. One was apeasant-girl's dress--a short calico skirt trimmed with wreaths of wildflowers, and she regretted that she could not exchange the page's attirefor one of these. 

'And as regards the tights, ' added the old woman, 'you'd have to wear themjust the same with peasant-girls' frocks as with these trunks, for, as youcan see, the skirts only just come below the knees. '

At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the clattering of feeton the rickety staircase and two girls entered talking loudly; Kate hadoften spoken to them in the wings. Then some more women arrived, and Katewithdrew her chair as far out of reach as possible of the flying petticoatsand the scattered boots and shoes. One lady could not find her tights, another insisted on the bodice of her dress being laced up at once; threevoices shouted at once for the dresser, and the call-boy was heard outside:

'Ladies! ladies! Mr. Lennox is waiting; the curtain is going up. '

'All right! all right!' cried an octave of treble voices, and tripping overtheir swords, those who were ready hurried downstairs, leaving the othersscreaming at the dresser, who was vainly attempting to tidy the room. 

When Kate got on the stage the first person she saw was Montgomery, thevery one she wished most to avoid. After having conducted the overture hehad come up to find out the reason of the 'wait. ' Dick was rushing about, declaring that if this ever occurred again half a-crown would be stoppedout of all the salaries. 

'Oh! how very nice we look! and they're not thin, ' exclaimed Montgomery, pushing his glasses up on his nose. And forgetting his difficulties as ifby magic, Dick smiled with delight as, holding her at arm's length, helooked at her critically. 

'Charming, my dear! There won't be a man in front who won't fall in lovewith you. But I must see where I can place you. '

All the rest passed as rapidly as in a dream, and before she could againthink distinctly she was walking round the stage in the company of a scoreof other girls. Treading in time to the music, they formed themselves intolines, making place for Leslie, who came running down to the footlights. There was no time for thinking; she was whirled along. Between the acts shehad to rush upstairs to put on another dress; between the scenes she had towatch to know when she had to go on. Sometimes Dick spoke to her, but hewas generally far away, and it was not until the curtain had been rung downfor the last time that she got an opportunity of speaking to him. 

As they walked home up the dark street when all was over, she laid her handaffectionately on his arm:

'Tell me, Dick, are you satisfied with me? I've done my best to pleaseyou. '

'Satisfied with you?' replied the big man, turning towards her in his kindunctuous way, 'I should think so: you looked lovely, and your voice washeard above everybody's. I wish you'd heard what Montgomery said. I'll giveyou a line to speak when you've got a bit of confidence. You're a bittimid, that's all. ' And delighted Kate listened to Dick, who had begun tosketch out a career for her. Her voice, he said, would improve. She'd havetwice the voice in a year from now, and with twice the voice she'd not onlybe able to sing Clairette in _Madame Angot_, but all Schneider's greatparts. 

He talked on and on, and in the early hours of the morning he was relatinghow _The Brigands_ had failed at the Globe, the conditions of hiscapitalist being that his mistress was to play one of the leading parts ata high salary, and that he was to take over the bars. That was thirtypounds a week gone; and the woman sang so fearfully out of tune that shewas hissed--a pity, for the piece contained some of Offenbach's best music. A casual reference to the dresses led up to a detailed account of how hehad bought the satin down at the Docks at the extraordinary low price oftwo shillings a yard, and this bargain prepared the way for a long storyconcerning a girl who had worn one of these identical dresses. She was nowa leading London actress, and every step of her upward career was goneinto. Then followed several biographies. Charlie ---- sang in the chorusand was now a leading tenor. Miss ---- had married a rich man on the StockExchange; and so on. Indeed, everybody in that ill-fated piece seemed tohave succeeded except the manager himself. But no such criticism occurredto Kate. Her heart was swollen with admiration for the man who had beenonce at the head of all this talent, and the rich-coloured future he wouldshape for her flowed hazily through her mind. 

And Kate grew happier as the days passed until she began to think she mustbe the happiest woman living. Her life had now an occupation, and no hourthat went pressed upon her heavier than would a butterfly's wing. Themornings when Dick was with her had always been delightful; and theafternoons had been taken up with her musical studies. It was the longevenings she used to dread; now they had become part and parcel of herdaily pleasures. They dined about four, and when dinner was over it wastime to talk about what kind of house they were going to have, to fidgetabout in search of brushes and combs, the curling-tongs, and to considerwhat little necessaries she had better bring down to the theatre with her. At first it seemed very strange to her to go tripping down these narrowstreets at a certain hour--streets that were filled with people, for thestage and the pit entrance are always within a few yards of each other, andto hear the passers-by whisper as she went by, 'She's one of theactresses. ' One day she found a letter addressed to her under the namechosen by Dick--a picturesque name he thought looked well on posters--andnot suspecting what was in it, she tore open the envelope in presence ofhalf-a-dozen chorus-girls, who had collected in the passage. A diamond ringfell on the floor, and in astonishment Kate read:

'DEAR MISS D'ARCY, --In recognition of your beauty and the graceful way inwhich you play your part, I beg to enclose you a ring, which I hope to seeon your finger to-night. If you wear it on the right hand I shallunderstand that you will allow me to wait for you at the stage-door. If, however, you decide that my little offering suits better your left hand, Ishall understand that I am unfortunate. 

'(Signed) AN ADMIRER. '

'Who left this here?' asked Kate of the doorkeeper. 

'A tall young gent--a London man, I should think, by the cut of him, but heleft no name. '

'A very pretty ring, anyhow, ' said a girl, picking it up. 

'Not bad, ' said another; 'I got one like it last year at Sheffield, '

'But what shall I do with it?' asked Kate. 

'Why, wear it, of course, ' answered two or three voices simultaneously. 

'Wear it!' she repeated, and feeling very much like one in possession ofstolen goods, she hurried on to the stage, intending to ask Dick what shewas to do with the ring. She found him disputing with the property man, andit was some time before he could bring himself to forget the annoyance thata scarcity of daggers had occasioned him. At last, however, with a violenteffort of will, he took the note from her hand and read it through. When hehad mastered the contents a good-natured smile illumined his chub-cheekedface, and he said:

'Well, what do you want to say? I think the ring a very nice one; let's seehow it looks on your hand, '

'You don't mean that I'm to wear it?'

'And why not? I think it's a very nice ring, ' the manager saidunaffectedly. 'Wear it first on one hand and then on the other, dear; thatwill puzzle him, '

'But supposing he comes to meet me at the stage-door?'

'Well, what will that matter? We'll go out together; I'll see that he keepshis distance. But now run up and get dressed. '

'Now then, come in, ' cried Dolly, who was walking about in a pair of bluestockings. 'You're as bashful as an undergraduate. '

A roar of laughter greeted this sally, and feeling humiliated, she began todress. 

'You haven't heard Dolly's story of the undergraduate?' shouted a girl fromthe other end of the room. 

'No, and don't want to, ' replied Kate, indignantly. 'The conversation inthis room is perfectly horrid. I shall ask Mr. Lennox to change me. Andreally, Miss Goddard, I think you might manage to dress yourself with alittle more decency. '

'Well, if you call this dress, ' exclaimed Dolly, fanning herself. 'Isuppose one must take off one's stockings to please you. You're as badas----'

Dolly was the wit of No. 6 dressing-room, and having obtained her laugh shesought to conciliate Kate. To achieve this she began by putting on hertights. 

'Now, Mrs. Lennox, ' she said, 'don't be angry; if I've a good figure Ican't help it. And I do want to hear about the diamond ring. '

This was said so quaintly, so cunningly, as the Americans would say, thatKate couldn't help smiling, and abandoning her hand she allowed Dolly toexamine the ring. 

'I never saw anything prettier in my life. It wasn't an undergra--?' saidthe girl, who was a low comedian at heart and knew the value of repetition. 

'I must drink to his health. Who has any liquor? Have you, Vincent?'

'Just a drain left, ' said a fat girl, pulling a flat bottle out of a dirtyblack skirt, 'but I'm going to keep it for the end of the second act. '

'Selfishness will be your ruin, ' said Dolly. 'Let's subscribe to drink thegentleman's health, ' she added, winking at the bevy of damsels who stoodwaiting, their hands on their hips. And it being impossible for Kate tomisunderstand what was expected of her she said:

'I shall be very glad to stand treat. What shall it be?'

After some discussion it was agreed that they could not do better than abottle of whisky. The decrepit dresser was given the money, with strictinjunctions from Dolly not to uncork the bottle. 'We can do thatourselves, ' the girl added, facetiously; and a noisy interest wasmanifested in the ring, the sender and the letter. Kate said that Dick hadadvised her to wear the ring first on one hand and then on the other. 

'To keep changing it from one hand to another, ' cried Dolly; 'not a badidea; and now to the health and success of the sender of the ring. '

'I cannot drink to that toast, ' Kate answered, laying aside her glass. 

'That the word "success" be omitted from the toast!' cried Dolly, and themerriment did not cease until the call-boy was heard crying, 'Ladies, ladies! Mr. Lennox is waiting on the stage. ' Then there was a scramble forthe glass and the dresser, and Dolly's voice was heard screaming:

'Now then, Mother Hubbard, have you the sweet-stuff I told you to get? Idon't want to go downstairs stinking of raw spirit. '

'I couldn't get any, ' said the old woman, 'but I brought two slices ofbread; that'll do as well. '

'You're a knowing old card, ' said Dolly. 'Eat a mouthful or two, it'll takethe smell off, Mrs. Lennox, ' and the girls rattled down the staircase, arriving on the stage only just in time for their cue. 

'Cue for soldiers' entrance, ' the prompter cried, and on they went, Montgomery taking the music a little quicker than usual till Kate, who wasnow in the big eight, clean forgot how often she had changed her ring fromthe left hand to the right. But she did wear it on different hands, and noadmirer came up and spoke to her at the stage-door. Dick was there waitingfor her; she felt quite safe on his arm, and as soon as they had had amouthful of supper they began the weekly packing. 

Next morning it was train and station, station and train, but despite manydelays they managed to catch the train, and on Monday night hergracefulness was winning for her new admirers: in every town the companyvisited she received letters and presents; none succeeded, however, inweakening her love, or persuading her from Dick. 

'Yet lovers around her are sighing, ' Montgomery chuckled, and Dick began toconsider seriously the means to be adopted to secure Kate's advancement inher new profession. One night Montgomery returned home with them after theperformance, bringing with him the script, and till one in the morning thetwain sat together trying to devise some extra lines for the first scene in_Les Cloches_. 

'The scene, ' Dick said, 'is on the seashore. The girls are on their way tomarket. '

'Supposing she said something like this, eh? "Mr. Baillie, do you likebrown eyes and cherry lips?" And then another would reply, "Cherry brandymost like. "'

'No, I don't think the public would see the point; you must remember we'renot playing to a London public. I think we'd better have somethingbroader. '

'Well, what?'

'You remember the scene in _Chilpéric_ when----'

The conversation wandered; and Mr. Diprose's version of the opera and hisusual vile taste in the stage management was severely commented on. In suchpleasant discussion an hour was agreeably spent; but at last the suddenextinguishing of a cigarette reminded them that they had met for thepurpose of writing some dialogue. After a long silence Dick said:

'Supposing she were to say, "Mr. Baillie, you've a fine head. " You know Iwant something she'd get a laugh with. '

'If she said the truth, she'd say a fat head, ' replied Montgomery with alaugh. 

'And why shouldn't she? That's the very thing. She's sure to get a laughwith that--"Mr. Baillie, you have a fat head. " Let's get that down first. But what shall she say after?' And in silence they ransacked their memoriesfor a joke which could be fitted to the one they had just discovered. 

After some five minutes of deep consideration, and wearied by theunaccustomed mental strain put upon his mind, Dick said:

'Do you know the music of _Trône d'Écosse_? Devilish good. If the bookhad been better it would have been a big success. '

'The waltz is about the prettiest thing Hervé has done. '

This expression of opinion led up to an animated discussion, in which therival claims of Hervé and Planquette were forcibly argued. Many cigaretteswere smoked, and not until the packet was emptied did it occur to them thatonly one 'wheeze' had been found. 

'I never can do anything without a cigarette; do try to find me one in thenext room, Kate, dear. Listen, Montgomery, we've got "Baillie, you've a fathead. " That'll do very well for a beginning; but I'm not good at findingwheezes. '

'And then I can say, "Baillie, you've a fine head, "' said Kate, who hadbeen listening dreamily for a long time, afraid to interrupt. 

'Not a bad idea, ' said Dick. 'Let's get it down. '

'And then, ' screamed Montgomery, as he perched both his legs over the armof his chair, 'she can say, "I mean a great head, Mr. Baillie. "'

For a moment Dick's eyes flashed with the light of admiration, and heseemed to be considering if it were not his duty to advise the conductorthat his talents lay in dialogue rather than in music. But his sentiments, whatever they may have been, disappeared in the burst of inspiration he hadbeen waiting for so long. 

'We can go through the whole list of heads, ' he exclaimed triumphantly. 'Fat head, fine head, broad head, thick head, massive head--yes, massivehead. The Baillie will appear pleased at that, and will repeat the phrase, and then she will say "Dunderhead!" He'll get angry, and she'll run away. That'll make a splendid exit--she'll exit to a roar. '

Dick noted down the phrases on a piece of paper, to be pasted afterwardsinto the script. When this was done, he said:

'My dear, if you don't get a roar with these lines, you can call me a ----. And when we play the piece at Hull, I shouldn't be surprised if you gotnoticed in the papers. But you must pluck up courage and check the Baillie. We must put up a rehearsal to-morrow for these lines. Now listen, Montgomery, and tell me how it reads. '

XV

'Rehearsal to-morrow at twelve for all those in the front scene of the_Cloches_, ' cried the stage-door keeper to half-a-dozen girls as theypushed past him. 

'Well I never! and I was going out to see the castle and the ramparts ofthe town, ' said one girl. 

'I wonder what it's for, ' said another; 'it went all right, Ithought--didn't you? Did you hear any reason, Mr. Brown?'

'I 'ear there are to be new lines put in, ' replied the stage-door keeper, surlily, 'but I don't know. Don't bother me. '

At the mention of the new lines the faces of the girls brightened, butinstantly they strove to hide the hope and anxiety the announcement hadcaused them, and in the silence that followed each tried to think how shecould get a word with Mr. Lennox. At length one more enterprising than therest said:

'I must run back. I've forgotten my handkerchief. '

'You needn't mind your handkerchief, you won't see Mr. Lennox to-night, 'exclaimed Dolly, who always trampled on other people's illusions as readilyas she did on her own. 'The lines aren't for you nor me, nor any of us, 'she continued. 'You little silly, can't you guess who they're for? For hisgirl, of course!'

Murmurs of assent followed this statement, and, her hands on her hips, Dolly triumphantly faced her auditors. 

'It's damned hard, but you can't expect the man to take her out of herlinen-drapery for nothing. '

The old stage-door keeper, whose attention had been concentrated on what hewas eating out of a jam-pot, now suddenly woke up to the fact that thepassage was blocked, and that a group of musicians with boxes in theirhands were waiting to get through. 

'Now, ladies, I must ask you to move on; there're a lot of people behindyou. '

'Yes, get on, girls; we're all up a tree this time, and the moral of it isthat we haven't yet learnt how to fall in love with the manager. Thepaper-collar woman has beaten us at our own game. '

A roar of laughter followed this remark, which was heard by everybody, andpushing the girls before her, Dolly cleared the way. 

These girls, whose ambitions in life were first to obtain a line--that isto say, permission to shout, in their red tights, when the low comedianappears on the stage, 'Oh, what a jolly good fellow the Dukeis!'--secondly, to be asked out to dinner by somebody they imagine lookslike a gentleman, revolted against hearing this paper-collar woman, as theynow called her, speak the long-dreamed-of, long-described phrases; and atnight they did everything they dared to 'queer' her scene. They crowdedround her, mugged, and tried to divert the attention of the house from her. 

She had to say, 'Mr. Baillie, you've a fine head. ' _Baillie (patting hiscrown)_: 'Yes, a fine head!' _Kate_: 'A fat head. ' _Baillie(indignantly)_: 'A fat head!' _Kate (hurriedly)_: 'I mean a broadhead. ' _Baillie_: 'Yes, a broad head. ' _Kate_: 'A thick head. '_Baillie (indignantly)_: 'A thick head!' _Kate_: 'No, no; a solidhead. ' And so on _ad lib. _ for ten minutes. 

The scene went splendidly. The pit screamed, and the gallery was inconvulsions, and in the street next day nothing was heard but ironicalreferences to fat and thick heads. The girls had not succeeded in spoilingthe scene, for, encouraged by the applause, Kate had chaffed and mocked atthe Baillie so winningly that she at once won the sympathy of the house. But the following night a tall, sour-faced girl, who wore pads, and withwhom Kate had had some words concerning her coarse language, hit upon aningenious device for 'queering the scene!' Her trick was to burst into aroar of laughter just before she had time to say, 'A fat head. ' The otherssoon tumbled to the trick, and in a night or two they worked so welltogether that Kate grew nervous and she could not speak her lines. Thismade her feel very miserable; and her stage experience being limited, sheascribed her non-success to her own fault, until one night Dick rushed onto the stage as soon as the curtain was down, and putting up his arms witha large gesture, he called the company back. 

'Ladies and gentlemen, ' he said, 'I've noticed that the front scene in thisact has not been going as well as it used to. I don't want anyone to tellme why this is so; the reason is sufficiently obvious, at least to me. Ishall expect, therefore, the ladies whom this matter concerns to attend arehearsal to-morrow at twelve, and if after that I notice what I didtonight, I shall at once dismiss the delinquents from the company. I hope Imake myself understood. '

After this explanation, any further interference with Kate's scene was, ofcourse, out of the question, and the verdict of each new town more and morefirmly established its success. But if Dick's presence controlled the girlswhilst they were on the stage, his authority did not reach to thedressing-rooms. Kate's particular enemy was Dolly Goddard. Not a nightpassed that this girl did not refer to the divorce cases she had read of inthe papers, or pretended to have heard of. Her natural sharp wit enabledher to do this with considerable acidity. 'Never heard such a thing in mylife, girls, ' she would begin. 'They talk of us, but what we do is child'splay compared with the doings of the respectable people. A baker's wife inthis blessed town has just run away with the editor of a newspaper, leavingher six little children behind her, one of them being a baby no more than amonth old. '

'What will the husband do?'

'Get a divorce. ' (Chorus--'He'll get a divorce, of course, of course, ofcourse!')

To this delicate irony no answer was possible, and Kate could only bite herlips, and pretend not to understand. But it was difficult not to turn paleand tremble sometimes, so agonizing were the anecdotes that the activebrain of Dolly conjured up concerning the atrocities that pursuing husbandshad perpetrated with knife and pistol on the betrayers of their happiness. And when these scarecrows failed, there were always the stories to fallback upon. A word sufficed to set the whole gang recounting experiences, and comparing notes. A sneer often curled the corners of Kate's lips, butto protest she knew would be only to expose herself to a rude answer, andto appeal to Dick couldn't fail to excite still further enmity against her. Besides, what could he do? How could he define what were and what were notproper conversations for the dressing-rooms? But she might ask him to puther to dress with the principals, and this she decided to do one eveningwhen the words used in No. 6 had been more than usually warm. 

Dick made no objection, and with Leslie and Beaumont Kate got on better. 

'I'm so glad you've come, ' said Leslie, as she bent to allow the dresser toplace a wreath of orange-blossom on her head. 'I wonder you didn't think ofasking Mr. Lennox to put you with us before. '

'I didn't like to. I was afraid of being in your way, ' Kate answered. 'Ihope Beaumont won't mind my being here. '

'What matter if she does? Beaumont isn't half a bad sort once you begin tounderstand her. Just let her talk to you about her diamonds and her men, and it will be all right. '

'But why haven't you been to see me lately? I want you to come out shoppingwith me one day next week. We shall be at York. I hear there are some goodshops there. '

'Yes, there are, and I should have been to see you before, but Frank hasjust got some new scores from London, and he wanted me to try them overwith him. There's one that's just been produced in Paris--the loveliestmusic you ever heard in all your life. Come up to my place to-morrow andI'll play it over to you. But talking of music, I hear that you're gettingon nicely. '

'I think I'm improving; Montgomery comes to practise with me everymorning. '

'He's all very well for the piano, but he can't teach you to produce yourvoice. What does he know? That brat of a boy! I'll tell you what I'll do, 'cried Leslie, suddenly confronting Kate: 'we're going to York next week. Well, I'll introduce you to a first-rate man. He'd do more with you in sixlessons than Montgomery in fifty. And the week after we shall be at Leeds. I can introduce you to another there. '

'The curtain is just going up, Miss Leslie, ' cried the call boy. 

'All right, ' cried the prima donna, throwing the hare's-foot to thedresser, 'I must be off now. We'll talk of this to-morrow. '

Immediately after the stately figure of Beaumont entered. Putting her blackbag down with a thump on the table she exclaimed:

'Good heavens! not dressed yet! My God! you'll be late. '

'Late for what?' asked Kate in astonishment. 

'Didn't Mr. Lennox tell you that you had to sing my song, themarket-woman's song, in the first act?'

'No, I heard nothing of it. '

'Then for goodness' sake make haste. Here, stick your face out. I'll doyour make-up while the dresser laces you. But you'll be able to manage thesong, won't you? It's quite impossible for me to get dressed in time. Ican't understand Mr. Lennox not having told you. '

'Oh yes, I shall be able to get through it--at least I hope so, ' Kateanswered, trembling with the sudden excitement of the news. 'I think I knowall the words except the encore verse. '

'Oh, you won't need that, ' said Beaumont, betrayed by a twinge ofprofessional jealousy. 'Now turn the other cheek. By Jove! we've no time tolose; they're just finishing the wedding chorus. If you're late it won't bemy fault. I sent down word to the theatre to ask if you'd sing my song inthe first act, as I had some friends coming down from London to see me. Youknow the Marquis of Shoreham--has been a friend of mine for years. That'lldo for the left eye. '

'If you put out your leg a little further I'll pull your stocking, and thenyou'll be all right, ' said the dresser, and just staying a moment to pullup her garters in a sort of nervous trance, she rushed on to the stage, followed into the wings by Beaumont, who had come to hear how the songwould go. 

She was a complete success, and got a double encore from an enthusiasticpit. But in _Madame Favart_ she had nothing to do, and wearied waitingin the chorus for another chance which never came, for after her successwith the fish-wife's song in _Madame Angot_, Beaumont took good carenot to give her another chance. What was to be done? Dick said he couldn'tsack the principals. 

'Kate could play Serpolette as it was never played before, ' exclaimedMontgomery, 'and I see no reason why she shouldn't understudy Leslie. '

'But What's-her-name is understudying it. '

'Why shouldn't there be two understudies?'

Dick could advance no reason, and once begun, the studies proceeded gaily. Apparently deeply interested, Dick lay back in the armchair smokingperpetual cigarettes. Montgomery hammered with nervous vigour at the piano, and Kate stood by his side, her soul burning in the ardours of her task. She would have preferred the part of Germaine; it would have better suitedher gentle mind than the frisky Serpolette; but it seemed vain to hope forillness or any accident that would prevent Beaumont from playing. True, Leslie was often imprudent, and praying for a bronchial visitation theywatched at night to see how she was wrapped up. 

As soon as Kate knew the music, a rehearsal was called for her to gothrough the business, and it was then that the long-smouldering indignationbroke out against her. In the first place the girl who till now had beenentrusted with the understudy, and had likewise lived in the hopes ofcoughs and colds, burst into floods of passionate tears and storms ofviolent words. She attacked Kate vigorously, and the scene was doublyunpleasant, as it took place in the presence of everybody. Bitterreferences were made to dying and deserted husbands, and all the acridnessof the chorus-girl was squeezed into allusions anent the Divorce Court. This was as disagreeable for Dick as for Kate. The rehearsal had to bedismissed, and the lady in question was sent back to London. Sympathy atfirst ran very strongly on the side of the weak, and the ladies of thetheatre were united in their efforts to make it as disagreeable as possiblefor Kate. But she bore up courageously, and after a time her continualrefusal to rehearse the part again won a reaction in her favour; and whenMiss Leslie's cold began to grow worse, and it became clear that someonemust understudy Serpolette, the part fell without opposition to her share. 

And now every minute of the day was given to learning or thinking out inher inner consciousness some portion of her part. In the middle of herbreakfast she would hurriedly lay down her cup with a clink in the saucerand say, 'Look here, Dick; tell me how I'm to do that run in--my firstentrance, you know. '

'What are your words, dear?'

'"Who speaks ill of Serpolette?"'

The breakfast-table would then be pushed out of the way and the entrancerehearsed. Dick seemed never to weary, and the run was practised over andover again. Coming home from the theatre at night, it was always a questionof this effect and that effect; of whether Leslie might not have scored apoint if she had accentuated the lifting of her skirt in the famous song. 

That was, as Dick declared, the 'number of grip'; and often, at two o'clockin the morning, just as she was getting into bed, Kate, in her chemise, would begin to sing:

 '"Look at me here! look at me there! Criticize me everywhere! From head to feet I am most sweet, And most perfect and complete. "'

There was a scene in the first act in which Serpolette had to run screamingwith laughter away from her cross old uncle, Gaspard, and dodge him, hidingbehind the Baillie, and to do this effectively required a certain_chic_, a gaiety, which Kate did not seem able to summon up; and thiswas the weak place in her rendering of the part. 'You're all right for aminute, and then you sober down into a Germaine, ' Dick would say, at theend of a long and critical conversation. The business she learned to'parrot. ' Dick taught her the gestures and the intonations of voice to beused, and when she had mastered these Dick said he would back her to gothrough the part quite as well as Leslie. 

Leslie! The word was now constantly in their minds. Would her cold getworse or better? was the question discussed most frequently between Dick, Kate, and Montgomery. Sometimes it was better, sometimes worse; but at themoment of their greatest despondency the welcome news came that she hadslipped downstairs and sprained her foot badly. 

'Oh, the poor thing!' said Kate; 'I'm so sorry. Had I known that was----'

'Was going to happen you wouldn't have learnt the part, ' exclaimedMontgomery, with his loud, vacant laugh. 

She beat her foot impatiently on the ground, and after a long silence shesaid, 'I shall go and see her. '

'You'd much better run through your music with Montgomery, and don't forgetto see the dresser about your dress. And, for God's sake, do try and put abit of gaiety into the part. Serpolette is a bit of a romp, you know. '

'Try to put a bit of gaiety into the part, ' rang in Kate's earsunceasingly. It haunted her as she took in the waist of Leslie's dress, while she leaned over Montgomery's shoulder at the piano or listened to hisconversation. He was enthusiastic, and she thought it very pretty of him tosay, 'I'm glad to have had a share in your first success. No one everforgets that--that's sure to be remembered. '

It was the nearest thing to a profession of love he had ever made, but shewas preoccupied with other thoughts, and had to send him away for a lasttime to study the dialogue before the glass. 

'Try to put a little gaiety into the part. Serpolette is a romp, you know. '

'Yes, a romp; but what is a romp?' Kate asked herself; and she strove torealize in detail that which she had accepted till now in outline. 

XVI

'Ladies and gentlemen, ' said Mr. Hayes, who had been pushed, much againsthis will, before the curtain of the Theatre Royal, Bristol, to make thefollowing statement, 'I'm sorry to inform you that in consequence ofindisposition--that is to say, the accidental spraining of her ankle--MissLeslie will not be able to appear to-night. Your kind indulgence istherefore requested for Miss D'Arcy, who has, on the shortest notice, consented to play the part of Serpolette. '

'Did yer ever 'ear of anyone spraining an ankle on purpose?' asked ascene-shifter. 

'Hush!' said the gas-man, 'he'll 'ear you. '

Amid murmurs of applause, Mr. Hayes backed into the wings. 

'Well, was it all right?' he asked Dick. 

'Right, my boy, I should think it was; there was a touch of Gladstone inyour accidentally sprained ankle. '

'What do you mean?' said the discomfited acting manager. 

'I haven't time to tell you now. Now then, girls, are you ready?' he said, rushing on to the stage and hurriedly changing the places of thechoristers. Putting his hand on a girl's shoulder, he moved her to theright or left as his taste dictated. Then retiring abruptly, he cried, 'Nowthen, up you go!' and immediately after thirty voices in one sonority sang:

 '"In Corneville's wide market-pla-a-ces, Sweet servant-girls, with rosy fa-a-ces, Wait here, wait here. "'

'Now, then, come on. You make your entrance from the top left. '

'I don't think I shall ever be able to do that run in. '

'Don't begin to think about anything. If you don't like the run, I'll tellyou how to do it, ' said Dick, his face lighting up with a suddeninspiration; 'do it with a cheeky swagger, walking very slowly, like this;and then when you get quarter of the way down the stage, stop for a momentand sing, "Who speaks ill of Serpolette?" Do you see?'

'Yes, yes, that will suit me better; I understand. '

Then standing under the sloping wing, they both listened anxiously for thecue. 

'She loves Grenicheux. '

'There's your cue. On you go; give me your shawl. '

The footlights dazzled her; a burst of applause rather frightened thanreassured her, and a prey to a sort of dull dream, she sang her firstlines. But she was a little behind the beat. Montgomery brought down hisstick furiously, the _répliques_ of the girls buffeted her ears likepalms of hands, and it was not until she was halfway through the gossipingcouplets, and saw Montgomery's arm swing peacefully to and fro over thebent profiles of the musicians that she fairly recovered her presence ofmind. Then came the little scene in which she runs away from her uncleGaspard and hides behind the Baillie. And she dodged the old man with suchsprightliness from one side of the stage to the other that a murmur ofadmiration floated over the pit, and, arising in echoes, was prolongedalmost until she stepped down to the footlights to sing the legend ofSerpolette. 

The quaintly tripping cadences of the tune and the humour of the words, which demanded to be rather said than sung, were rendered to perfection. Itwas impossible not to like her when she said:

 '"I know not much of my relations, I never saw my mother's face; And of preceding generations I never found a single trace. 

 '"I may have fallen from the sky, Or blossomed in a rosebud sweet; But all I know is this, that I Was found by Gaspard in his wheat. "'

A smile of delight filled the theatre, and Kate felt the chilling sense ofseparation which exists between the public and a debutante being graduallyfilled in by a delicious but almost incomprehensible notion of contact--asensation more delicate than the touch of a lover's breath on your face. This reached a climax when she sang the third verse, and had not etiquetteforbade, she would have had an encore for it alone. 

 '"I often think that perhaps I may The heiress to a kingdom be, But as I wore no clothes that day I brought no papers out with me. "'

These words, that had often seemed coarse in Leslie's mouth, in Kate'sseemed adorably simple. So winning was the smile and so coquettishlyconscious did she seem of the compromising nature of the statement she wasmaking, that the entire theatre was actuated by the impulse of one thought:Oh! what a little dear you must have been lying in the wheat-field! Thepersonality of the actress disappeared in the rosy thighs and chubby armsof the foundling, and notwithstanding the length of the song, she had tosing it twice over. Then there was an exit for her, and she rushed into thewings. Several of the girls spoke to her, but it was impossible for her toreply to them. Everything swam in and out of sight like shapes in a mist, and she could only distinguish the burly form of her lover. He wrapped ashawl about her, and a murmur of amiable words followed her, and, with herthoughts fizzing like champagne, she tried to listen to his praises. 

Then followed moments in which she anxiously waited for her cues. She wasnervously afraid of missing her entrance, and she dreaded spoiling hersuccess by some mistake. But it was not until the end of the act when shestepped out of the crowd of servant-girls to sing the famous coquettingsong that she reached the summit of her triumph. 

Kate was about the medium height, a shade over five feet five. When sheswung her little dress as she strutted on the stage she reminded youimmediately of a pigeon. In her apparent thinness from time to time wasrevealed a surprising plumpness. 

For instance, her bosom, in a walking dress no more than an indication, ina low body assumed the roundness of a bird's, and the white lines of herfalling shoulders floated in long undulations into the blue masses of herhair. The nervous sensibility of her profession had awakened her face, andnow the brown eyes laughed with the spiritual maliciousness with which wewillingly endow the features of a good fairy. The hips were womanly, theankle was only a touch of stocking, and the whole house rose to a man androared when coquettishly lifting the skirt, she sang:

 '"Look at me here! look at me there! Criticize me everywhere! From head to feet I am most sweet, And most perfect and complete. "'

The audience, principally composed of sailors--men home from months ofwatery weariness, nights of toil and darkness, maddened by the irritatingcharm of the music and the delicious modernity of Kate's figure and dress, looked as if they were going to precipitate themselves from the galleries. Was she not the living reality of the figures posted over the hammocks inoil-smelling cabins, the prototype of the short-skirted damsels thatdecorated the empty match-boxes which they preserved and gazed at under thelight of the stars?

Her success was enormous, and she was forced to sing

 'Look at me here!'

five times before her friends would allow the piece to proceed. At the endof the act she received an ovation. Two reporters of the local newspapersobtained permission to come behind to see her. London engagements werespoken of, and in the general enthusiasm someone talked about grand opera. Even her fellow artists forgot their jealousies, and in the nervousexcitement of the moment complimented her highly. Beaumont, anxious to kickdown her rival, declared, 'That, to say the least of it, it was a betterrendering of the part than Leslie's. ' And on hearing this, Bret, whoseforte was not repartee, moved away; Mortimer, in his least artificialmanner, said that it was not bad for a beginning and that she'd get on ifshe worked at it. Dubois strutted and spoke learnedly of how the part hadbeen played in France, and he was pleased to trace by an analysis which wasdifficult to follow a resemblance between Kate and Madame Judic. 

The second act went equally well. And after seeing the ghosts she got abouquet thrown to her, so cheekily did she sing the refrain:

 'For a regiment of soldiers wouldn't make me afraid. '

She had therefore now only to maintain her prestige to the end, and whenshe had got her encore for the cider song, and had been recalled before thecurtain at the end of the third act, with unstrung nerves she wandered toher dressing-room, thinking of what Dick would say when they got home. Butthe pleasures of the evening were not over yet: there was the supper, andas she came down from her dressing-room she whispered to Montgomery in thewings that they hoped to see him at their place later on. He thanked herand said he would be very glad to come in a little later on, but he hadsome music to copy now and must away, and feeling a little disappointedthat he had to leave she walked up and down the rough boards, stepping outof the way of the scene-shifters. 'By your leave, ma'am, ' they cried, goingby her with the long swinging wings. She was glad now that Montgomery hadleft her, for alone she could relive distinctly every moment of theperformance. 

As the chorus-girls crossed the stage they stopped to compliment her with afew mechanical words and a hard smile. Kate thanked them and returned toher dream all aglow and absorbed in remembrances of her success. The word'success' returned in her thoughts like the refrain of a song. Yes, she hadsucceeded. Wherever she went she would be admired. There was something tolive for at last. 

The T-light flared, and she stopped and began to wonder at the invention, so absurd did it seem; and then feeling that such thoughts were a waste oftime, she took up the thread of her memories and had just begun to enjoyagain a certain round of applause when Beaumont and Dolly Goddard awoke herwith the question, had she seen Dick? Kate tried to remember. Ascene-shifter going by said that he had seen Mr. Lennox leave the theatresome twenty minutes ago. 

'I suppose he will come back for me, ' Kate said; 'or perhaps I'd better goon? Are you coming my way?'

Beaumont and Dolly said they were and proposed that they should pop into apub before closing time. Kate hesitated to accept the invitation, butBeaumont insisted, and as it was a question of drinking to the night'ssuccess she consented to accompany them. 

'No, not here, ' said Beaumont, shoving the swing-doors an inch or so apart:'it's too full. I'll show you the way round by the side entrance. '

And giggling, the girls slipped into the private apartment. 

'What will you have, dear?' asked Beaumont in an apologetic whisper. 

'I think I'll have a whisky. '

'You'll have the same, Dolly?'

'Scotch or Irish?' asked the barman. 

The girls consulted a moment and decided in favour of Irish. 

With nods and glances, the health of Serpolette was drunk, and then fearingto look as if she were sponging, Kate insisted on likewise standing treat. Fortunately, when the second round had been drunk, closing time wasannounced by the man in the shirtsleeves, and bidding her friends good-bye, Kate stood in the street trying to think if she ought to return to thetheatre to look after Dick or go home and find him there. 

She decided on the latter alternative and walked slowly along the street. Achill wind blew up from the sea, and the sudden transition from the hotatmosphere of the bar brought the fumes of the whisky to her head and shefelt a little giddy. An idea of drunkenness suggested itself; it annoyedher, and repulsing it vehemently, her thoughts somewhat savagely fastenedon to Dick as the culprit. 'Where had he gone?' she asked, at firstcuriously, but at each repetition she put the question more sullenly toherself. If he had come back to fetch her she would not have been led intogoing into the public-house with Beaumont; and, irritated that any shadowshould have fallen on the happiness of the evening, she walked sturdilyalong until a sudden turn brought her face to face with her lover. 

'Oh!' he said, starting. 'Is that you, Kate? I was just cutting back to thetheatre to fetch you. '

'Yes, a nice time you've kept me waiting, ' she answered; but as she spokeshe recognized the street they were in as the one in which Leslie lived. The blood rushed to her face, and tearing the while the paper fringe of herbouquet, she said, 'I know very well where you've been to! I want notelling. You've been round spending your time with Leslie. '

'Well, ' said Dick, embarrassed by the directness with which she divined hiserrand, 'I don't see what harm there was in that; I really thought that Iought to run and see how she was. '

Struck by the reasonableness of this answer, Kate for the moment remainedsilent, but a sudden remembrance forced the anger that was latent in her toher head, and facing him again she said:

'How dare you tell me such a lie! You know very well you went to see herbecause you like her, because you love her. '

Dick looked at her, surprised. 

'I assure you, you're mistaken, ' he said. But at that moment Bret passedthem in the street, hurrying towards Leslie's. The meeting was anunfortunate one, and it sent a deeper pang of jealousy to Kate's heart. 

'There, ' she said, 'haven't I proof of your baseness? What do you say tothat?'

'To what?'

'Don't pretend innocence. Didn't you see Bret passing? You choose your timenicely to pay visits--just when he should be out. '

'Oh!' said Dick, surprised at the ingenuity of the deduction. 'I give youmy word that such an idea never occurred to me. '

But before he could get any further with his explanation Kate again cut himshort, and in passionate words told him he was a monster and a villain. Sotaken aback was he by this sudden manifestation of temper on the part ofone in whom he did not suspect its existence, that he stopped, to assurehimself that she was not joking. A glance sufficed to convince him; andmaking frequent little halts between the lamp-posts to argue the differentpoints more definitely, they proceeded home quarrelling. But on arriving atthe door, Kate experienced a moment of revolt that surprised herself. Thepalms of her hands itched, and consumed with a childish desire to scratchand beat this big man, she beat her little feet against the pavement. Dickfumbled at the lock. The delay still further irritated her, and it seemedimpossible that she could enter the house that night. 

'Aren't you coming in?' he said at last. 

'No, not I. You go back to Miss Leslie; I'm sure she wants you to attend toher ankle. '

This was too absurd, and Dick expostulated gently. But nothing he could saywas of the slightest avail, and she refused to move from the doorstep. Thenbegan a long argument; and in brief phrases, amid frequent interruptions, all sorts of things were discussed. The wind blew very cold; Kate did notseem to notice it, but Dick shivered in his fat; and noticing his tremblingshe taunted him with it, and insultingly advised him to go to bed. Notknowing what answer to give to this, he walked into the sitting-room andsat down by the fire. How long would she remain on the doorstep? he askedhimself humbly, until his reflections were interrupted by the sound ofsteps. It was Montgomery, and chuckling, Dick listened to him reasoningwith Kate. The cold was so intense that the discussion could not becontinued for long; and when the two friends entered Dick was prepared fora reconciliation. But in this he was disappointed. She merely consented tosit in the armchair, glaring at her lover. Montgomery tried to argue withher, but he could scarcely succeed in getting her to answer him, and it wasnot until he began to question Dick on the reason of the quarrel that sheconsented to speak; and then her utterances were rather passionate denialsof her lover's statements than any distinct explanation. There were alsolong silences, during which she sat savagely picking at the paper of thebouquet, which she still retained. At last Montgomery, noticing the supperthat no one cared to touch, said:

'Well, all I know is, that it's very unfortunate that you should havechosen this night of all others, the night of her success, to have a row. Iexpected a pleasant evening. '

'Success, indeed!' said Kate, starting to her feet. 'Was it for such asuccess as this that he took me away from my home? Oh, what a fool I was!Success! A lot I care for the success, when he has been spending theevening with Leslie. ' And unable to contain herself any longer, she tore ahandful of flowers out of her bouquet and threw them in Dick's face. Handful succeeded handful, each being accompanied by a shower of vehementwords. The two men waited in wonderment, and when passionate reproaches andspring flowers were alike exhausted, a flood of tears and a rush into thenext room ended the scene. 

XVII

As soon as it was announced that Miss Leslie suffered so much with herankle that she would be unable to travel, the whole company called to seethe poor invalid; the chorus left their names, the principals went up tosit by the sofa-side, and all brought her something: Beaumont, a basket offruit; Dolly Goddard, a bouquet of flowers; Dubois, an interesting novel;Mortimer, a fresh stock of anecdotes. Around her sofa sprains werediscussed. Dubois had known a _première danseuse_ at the Opera House, in Paris, but the handing round of cigarettes prevented his story frombeing heard, and Beaumont related instead how Lord Shoreham in youth hadbroken his legs out hunting. The relation might not have come to an endthat evening if Leslie had not asked Bret to change her position on thesofa, and when he and Dick went out of the room a look of inquiry waspassed round. 

'You needn't be uneasy. I wouldn't let Bret stop for anything. I shall bevery comfortable here. My landlady is as kind as she can be and the roomsare very nice. '

A murmur of approval followed these words, and continuing Miss Leslie said, laying her hand on Kate's:

'And my friend here will play my parts until I come back. You must beginto-night, my dear, and try to work up Clairette. If you're a quick studyyou may be able to play it on Wednesday night. '

This was too much; the tears stood in Kate's eyes. She had in her pocket alittle gold _porte-bonheur_ which she had bought that morning to makea present of to her once hated rival, but she waited until they were aloneto slip it on the good natured prima donna's wrist. The parting between thetwo women was very touching, and being in a melting mood Kate made a fullconfession of her quarrel with Dick, and, abandoning herself, she soughtfor consolation. Leslie smiled curiously, and after a long pause said:

'I know what you mean, dear, I've been jealous myself; but you'll get overit, and learn to take things easily as I do. Men aren't worth it. ' The lastphrase seemed to have slipped from her inadvertently, and seeing how shehad shocked Kate she hastened to add, 'Dick is a very good fellow, and willlook after you; but take my advice, avoid a row; we women don't gainanything by it. '

The words dwelt long in Kate's mind, but she found it hard to keep hertemper. Her temper surprised even herself. It seemed to be giving way, andshe trembled with rage at things that before would not have stirred anunquiet thought in her mind. Remembrances of the passions that used toconvulse her when a child returned to her. As is generally the case, therewas right on both sides. Her life, it must be confessed, was woven aboutwith temptations. Dick's character easily engendered suspicion, and whenthe study of the part of Clairette was over, the iron of distrust beganagain to force its way into her heart. The slightest thing sufficed toarouse her. On one occasion, when travelling from Bath to Wolverhampton, she could not help thinking, judging from the expression of the girl'sface, that Dick was squeezing Dolly's foot under the rug; without a wordshe moved to the other end of the carriage and remained looking out of thewindow for the rest of the journey. Another time she was seized with a fitof mad rage at seeing Dick dancing with Beaumont at the end of the secondact of _Madame Angot_. There were floods of tears and a distinctrefusal 'to dress with that woman. ' Dick was in despair! What could he do?There was no spare room, and unless she went to dress with the chorus hedidn't know what she'd do. 

'My God!' he exclaimed to Mortimer, as he rushed across the stage after the'damned property-man, ' 'never have your woman playing in the same theatreas yourself; it's awful!'

For the last couple of weeks everything he did seemed to be wrong. Success, instead of satisfying Kate, seemed to render her more irritable, andinstead of contenting herself with the plaudits that were nightly showeredupon her, her constant occupation was to find out either where Dick was orwhat he had been doing or saying. If he went up to make a change withouttelling her she would invent some excuse for sending to inquire after him;if he were giving some directions to the girls at one of the top entrances, she would walk from the wing where she was waiting for her cue to ask himwhat he was saying. This watchfulness caused a great deal of merriment inthe theatre, and in the dressing-rooms Mortimer's imitation of thecatechism the manager was put to at night was considered very amusing. 

'My dear, I assure you you're mistaken. I only smoked two cigarettes afterlunch, and then I had a glass of beer. I swear I'm concealing nothing fromyou. '

And this is scarcely a parody of the strict surveillance under which Dicklived, but from a mixture of lassitude and good nature it did not seem toannoy him too much, and he appeared to be most troubled when Kate murmuredthat she was tired, that she hated the profession and would like to go andlive in the country. For now she complained of fatigue and weariness; thesociety of those who formed her life no longer interested her, and she tookviolent and unreasoning antipathies. It was not infrequent for Mortimer andMontgomery to make an arrangement to grub with the Lennoxes whenever alandlady could be discovered who would undertake so much cooking. Butwithout being able to explain why, Kate declared she could not abidesitting face to face with the heavy lead. She saw and heard quite enough ofhim at the theatre without being bothered by him in the day-time. Dick madeno objection. He confessed, and, willingly, that he was a bit tired ofdisconnected remarks, and the wit of irrelevancies; and Mortimer, he said, fell to sulking if you didn't laugh at his jokes. Montgomery continued toboard with them, the young man very uncertain always whether he would be asunhappy away from her as he was with her. He often dreamed of sending inhis resignation, but he could not leave the company, having begun to lookupon himself as her guardian angel; and, without consulting Dick, theyarranged deftly that Dubois should be asked to take Mortimer's place. Dickapproved when the project was unfolded to him, the natty appearance of thelittle foreigner was a welcome change after Mortimer's draggled show ofgenius. He could do everything better than anybody else, but that did notmatter, for he was amusing in his relations. Whether you spoke of Balzac'sposition in modern fiction or the rolling of cigarettes, you were certainto be interrupted with, 'I assure you, my dear fellow, you're mistaken'uttered in a stentorian voice. On the subject of his bass voice a childcould draw him out, and, under the pretext of instituting a comparisonbetween him and one of the bass choristers, Montgomery never failed toinduce him to give the company an idea of his register. At first to see thelittle man settling the double chin into his chest in his efforts to get atthe low D used to convulse Kate with laughter, but after a time even thisgrew monotonous, and wearily she begged Montgomery to leave him alone. 'Nothing seems to amuse you now' he would say with a mingled look ofaffection and regret. A shrug of the shoulder she considered a sufficientanswer for him, and she would sink back as if pursuing to its furthestconsequences the train of some far-reaching ideas. 

And in wonder these men watched the progress of Kate's malady without eversuspecting what was really the matter with her. She was homesick. But notfor the house in Hanley and the dressmaking of yore. She had come to lookupon Hanley, Ralph, Mrs. Ede, the apprentices and Hender as a bygone dream, to which she could not return and did not wish to return. Her homesicknesswas not to go back to the point from which she had started, but to settledown in a house for a while. 

'Not for long, Dick, ' she said, 'a month; even a fortnight would make allthe difference. We spent a fortnight at Blackpool, but we have never stayeda fortnight at the same place since. '

'I know what's the matter with you, Kate, ' he answered; 'you want aholiday; so do I; we all want a holiday. One of these days we shall get onewhen the tour comes to an end. '

It did not seem to Kate that the tour would ever come to an end: she wouldalways be going round like a wheel. 

Dick begged her to have patience, and she resolved to have patience, butone Saturday night in the middle of her packing the vision of the longrailway journey that awaited her on the morrow rose up suddenly in hermind, and she could not do else than spring to her feet, and standing overthe half-filled trunk she said:

'Dick, I cannot, I cannot; don't ask me. '

'Ask you what?' he said. 

'To go to Bath with you to-morrow morning, ' she answered. 

'You won't come to Bath!' he cried. 'But who will play Clairette?'

'I will, of course. '

'I don't understand, Kate, ' Dick replied. 

'I only want one day off. Why shouldn't I spend the Sunday in Leamingtonand go to church? I want a little rest. I can't help it, Dick. '

'Well, I never! You seem to get more and more capricious every day. '

'Then you won't let me?' said Kate, with a flush flowing through her olivecheeks. 

'Won't let you! Why shouldn't you stay if it pleases you, dear? Montgomeryis staying too; he wants to see an aunt of his who lives in the town. '

Dick's unaffected kindness so touched Kate's sensibilities that the tearswelled up into her eyes, and she flung herself into his arms sobbinghysterically. For the moment she was very happy, and she looked into thedream of the long day she was going to spend with Montgomery, afraid lestsome untoward incident might rob her of her happiness. But nothing fell outto blot her hopes, everything seemed to be happening just as she hadforeseen it, and trembling with pleasurable excitement the twain hurriedthrough the town inquiring out the way to the Wesleyan Church. At last itwas found in a distant suburb, and her emotion almost from the moment sheentered into the peace of the building became so uncontrollable that tohide the tears upon her cheeks she was forced to bury her face in herhands, and in the soft snoring of the organ, recollections of her lifefrothed up; but as the psalm proceeded her excitement abated, until at lastit subsided into a state of languid ecstasy. Nor was it till thecongregation knelt down with one accord for the extemporary prayer that sheasked pardon for her sins. 'But how could God forgive her her sins if shepersevered in them?' she asked herself. 'How could she leave Dick andreturn to Hanley? Her husband would not receive her; her life had got intoa tangle and might never get straight again. But all is in the hands ofGod, ' and thinking of the woman that had been and the woman that was, sheprayed God to consider her mercifully. 'God will understand, ' she said, 'how it all came about; I cannot. '

Montgomery was kneeling in the pew beside her, and he wondered at seeingher so absorbed in prayer; he did not know that she was so pious, andthought that such piety as hers was not in accord with the life she hadtaken up and the company with which they were touring. But perhaps it was amere passing emotion, a sudden recrudescence of her past life which wouldfade away and never return again; he hoped that this was the case, for hebelieved in her talent, and that a London success awaited her. He kept hiseyes averted from her, knowing that his observation would distress her, andafter church she said she would like to go for a walk and he suggested theriver. 

In the shade of spreading trees they watched the boats passing, and in thecourse of the afternoon talked of many things and of many people, and itpleased and surprised them to find that their ideas coincided, and in thepauses of the conversation they wondered why they had never spoken to eachother like this before. He was often tempted to hold out prospects of aLondon success with a view to cheering her, but he felt that this was notthe moment to do so. But she, being a little less tactful, spoke to him ofhis music with a view to pleasing him, but he could not detach his thoughtsfrom her, and could only tell her that he heard her voice in the music ashe composed it. 

'The afternoon is passing, ' he said; 'it's time to begin thinking of tea. 'Whereupon they rose to their feet and walked a long way into the country insearch of an inn, and finding one they had tea in a garden, and afterwardsthey dined in a sanded parlour and enjoyed the cold beef, although theycould not disguise from themselves the fact that it was a little tough. Butwhat matter the food? It was the close intimacy and atmosphere of the daythat mattered to them, and they returned to Leamington thinking of the daythat had gone by, a day unique in their experience, one that might neverreturn to them. 

The ways were filled with Sunday strollers--mothers leading a tired childmoved steadily forward; a drunken man staggered over a heap of stones;sweethearts chased each other; occasionally a girl, kissed from behind asshe stretched to reach a honeysuckle, rent the airless evening with ascream. 

Kate had not spoken for a long while, and Montgomery's apprehensions wereawakened. Of what could she be thinking? 'Something was on her mind, ' hesaid to himself. 'Something has been on her mind all day, ' he continued, and he began to ask himself if he should put his arm around her and beg ofher to confide in him. He would have done so if the striking of a clock hadnot reminded him that they had little time before them if they wished tocatch the train, so instead of asking her to confide in him he asked her totry to walk a little faster. She was tired. He offered her his arm. 

'We've just time to get to the station and no more; it's lucky we have ourtickets. '

The guard on the platform begged them to hasten and to get in anywhere theycould. A moment afterwards they jumped into the carriage, and the trainrolled with a slight oscillating motion out of the station into the opencountry. Dim masses of trees, interrupted by spires and roofs, were paintedupon a huge orange sky that somehow reminded them of an _opérabouffe_. 

'What are you crying for?' Montgomery asked, bending forward. 

'Oh, I don't know!--nothing, ' exclaimed Kate, sobbing; 'but I'm veryunhappy. I know I've been very wicked, and am sure to be punished for it. '

'Nonsense! Nonsense!'

'God will punish me--know He will. I felt it all to-day in church. I'm donefor, I'm done for. '

'You've made a success on the stage. I never saw anyone get on so well inso short a time; and you're loved, ' he added with a certain bitterness, 'asmuch as any woman could be. '

'That's what you think, but I know better. I see him flirting every daywith different girls. '

'You imagine those things. Dick couldn't speak roughly to anyone if hetried; but he doesn't care for any woman but you. '

'Of course, you say so. You're his friend. '

'I assure you 'pon my word of honour; I wouldn't tell you so if it weren'ttrue. You're my friend as much as he, aren't you?' and then, as if afraidthat she should read his thoughts, he added:

'I'm sure he hasn't kissed anyone since he knew you. I can't put it plainerthan that, can I?'

'I'm glad to hear you say so. I don't think you'd tell me a lie; it wouldbe too cruel, wouldn't it? For you know what a position I am in: if Dickwere to desert me to-morrow what should I do?'

'You're in a mournful humour. Why should Dick desert you? And even if hedid, I don't see that it would be such an awful fate. '

Startled, Kate raised her eyes suddenly and looked him straight in theface. 

'What do you mean?' she said. 

The abruptness of her question made him hesitate. In a swift instant heregretted having risked himself so far, and reproached himself for beingfalse to his friend; but the temptation was irresistible, and overcome bythe tenderness of the day, and irritated by the memory of years of vainlonging, he said:

'Even if he did desert you, you might, you would, find somebodybetter--somebody who'd marry you. '

Kate did not answer and they sat listening to the rattle of the train. Atlast she said:

'I could never marry anyone but Dick. '

'Why? Do you love him so much?'

'Yes, I love him better than anything in the world; but even if I didn't, there are reasons which would prevent my marrying anyone but him. '

'What reasons?'

A desire that someone should know of her trouble smothered all otherconsiderations, and after another attempt to speak she again dropped intosilence. 

Montgomery tried to rouse her: 'Tell me, ' he said, 'tell me why youcouldn't marry anyone but Dick. '

The sound of his voice startled her, and then, in a moment of suddennaturalness, she answered:

'Because I'm in the family way. '

'Then there's nothing else for him to do but to marry you. '

She knew he was at that moment his own proper executioner, but theintensity of her own feelings did not leave her time for pity. 

Why after all shouldn't she marry Dick? Why hadn't she asked for thisreparation before? 'I dare say you're right, ' she said. 'When I tellhim----'

'What! haven't you told him yet?' Montgomery cried. 

'No, ' Kate answered timidly, 'I was afraid he wouldn't care to hear it. '

'Then you must do so at once, ' Montgomery said, and the poor vagrantmusician, whom nobody had ever loved, said: 'I will speak to him about itthe first time I get a chance. It would be wicked of him not to. Hecouldn't refuse even if he didn't love you, which he does. '

The last streak of yellow had died out of the sky telling of the day thathad gone by, and in a deep tranquillity of mind Kate inhaled the sweetnessof her luck as a convalescent might a bunch of freshly culled violets. 

XVIII

It never rains but it pours. She was called before the curtain after everyact in _Madame Angot_ and _Les Cloches de Corneville_, and Dicktold her that she would cut out all the London prima donnas, giving themthe go-by, and establish herself one of the great Metropolitan favouritesif he could get a new work over from France. 

'Why a new work?' she asked, and he told her that to draw the attention ofthe critics and the public upon her, she must appear in a new title role, and sitting in his armchair when they came home from the theatre at night, he brooded many projects, the principal one of which was to obtain a newwork from France. But which of the three illustrious composers, Hervé, Offenbach and Lecocq, should he choose to write the music? The book ofwords would have to be written before the music was composed, and so far ashe knew the only French composer who could set English words was Hervé. 

It seemed to Kate that he never would cease to draw forth a cigarette case, or to cross and uncross his legs. Did this man never wish to go to bed? Shehated stopping up after one o'clock in the morning. But, anxious to be aserviceable companion to him on all occasions, she strove against hersleepiness and listened to him whilst he considered whether her voice washeard to most advantage in Offenbach or in Hervé. She had not yet playedthe _Grande Duchesse_, and there were parts in that opera that wouldsuit her very well. He would like to see her in _La Belle Hélène_ andthe _Princess of Trebizond_, but the last-named opera was never asuccess in England, and he was not certain about the power of _LaPérichole_ to draw audiences in the provinces. 

It was pleasant to Kate to hear her talent discussed, analyzed, set forthin the works of great men, but her thought had now turned from her artisticcareer to her domestic. She wanted to be married. 

It had always been vaguely understood that they were to be married, that isto say, it had been taken for granted that when a fitting occasionpresented itself they would render their cohabitation legal. Thisunderstanding had satisfied her till now. In the first months, in the firstyear after the escape from Hanley, her happiness had been so great that shehad not had a thought of pressing matters further. She had feared to doanything lest she might destroy her happiness by doing so, and Dick, wholet everything slide until necessity forced him to take steps, had nottroubled himself about his marriage, although quite convinced that he wouldend by marrying Kate. He had treated his marriage exactly as he did histheatrical speculations. 

'There is no hurry, ' he answered her, and proposed that they should bemarried in London. 

'But why in London?'

He spoke of his relations and his friends. He would like Kate to know hisold mother. 

'But, Dick, dear, why not at once? We're living in a life of sin, and attimes the thought of the sin makes me miserable. '

Out of his animal repose Dick smiled at the religious argument, and beingon the watch always for a sneer, the blood rushed to her face instantly andshe exclaimed:

'If you did seduce me, if you did drag me away from my peaceful home, ifyou did make a travelling actress of me, you might at least refrain frominsulting my religion. '

Dick looked up, surprised. Kate had put down her knife and fork and waspouring herself out a large glass of sherry. She was evidently going towork herself up into one of her rages. 

'I assure you, my dear, I never intended to insult your religion; and Iwish you wouldn't drink all that wine, it only excites you. '

'Excites me! What does it matter to you if I excite myself or not?'

'My dear Kate, this is very foolish of you. I don't see why--if you'll onlylisten to reason----'

'Listen to reason!' she said, spilling the sherry over the table, 'ah! itwould have been better if I'd never listened to you. '

'You really mustn't drink any more wine; I can't allow it, ' said Dick, passing his arm across her and trying to take away the decanter. 

This was the climax, and her pretty face curiously twisted, she screamed asshe struggled away from him:

'Leave me go, will you! leave me go! Oh! I hate you!' Then clenching herteeth, and more savagely, 'No, I'll not be touched! No! no! no! I willnot!'

Dick was so astonished at this burst of passion that he loosed for a momentthe arms he was holding, and profiting by the opportunity Kate seized himby the frizzly hair with one hand and dragged the nails of the other downhis face. 

At this moment Montgomery entered; he stood aghast, and Kate, whose angerhad now expended itself, burst into a violent fit of weeping. 

'What does this mean?' Montgomery said, speaking very slowly. 

Neither answered. The man sought for words; the woman walked about the roomswinging herself; and as she passed before him Montgomery stopped her andbegged for an explanation. She gave him a swift look of grief, and breakingaway from him, shut herself in the bedroom. 

'What does this mean?'

Dick looked round vaguely, astonished at the authoritative way the questionwas put, but without inquiring he answered:

'That's what I want to know. I never saw anything like it in my life. Wewere speaking of being married, when suddenly Kate accused me of insultingher religion, and then--well, I don't remember any more. She fell into sucha passion--you saw it yourself. '

'Did you say you wouldn't marry her?'

'No, on the contrary. I can't make it out. For the last month her caprices, fancies, and jealousies have been something awful!'

Montgomery made a movement as if he were going to reply, but checkinghimself, he remained silent. His face then assumed the settled appearanceof one who is inwardly examining the different sides of a complex question. At last he said:

'Let's come out for a walk, Dick, and we'll talk the matter over. '

'Do you think I can leave her?'

'It's the best thing you can do. Leave her to have her cry out, ' andadopting the suggestion, Dick picked up his hat, and without further wordsthe men went out of the house, walking slowly arm in arm. 

'I cannot understand what is the matter with Kate. When I knew her firstshe hadn't a bad temper. '

To this Montgomery made no answer. He was thinking. 

After a pause Dick continued, as if speaking to himself:

'And the way she does badger me with her confounded jealousies; I'm afraidnow to tell a girl to move up higher on the stage. There are explanationsabout everything, and I can't think what it's all about. She has everythingshe requires. She hasn't been a year on the stage, and she's playingleading parts, and scoring successes too. '

'Perhaps she has reasons you don't know of. '

'Reasons I don't know of? What do you mean?'

'Well, you haven't told me yet what the row was about. '

'Tell you! That's just what I want to know myself. '

'What were you speaking about when it began?' asked Montgomery, who wasstill feeling his way. 

'About our marriage. '

'Well, what did you say?'

'What did I say? I really don't remember; the row has put it all out of myhead. Let me think. I was saying--I mean she was asking me when we shouldbe married. '

'And what did you say to that? Did you fix a day?'

'Fix a day!' said Dick, looking in astonishment at his friend. 'How could Ifix a day?'

'I think if I loved a woman and she loved me I could manage somehow to fixa day. '

These words were spoken with an earnestness that attracted Dick'sattention, and he looked inquiringly at the young man. 

'So you think I ought to marry her?'

'Think you ought to marry her?' exclaimed Montgomery indignantly; 'really, Dick, I didn't think you were--Just remember what she's given up for you. You owe it to her. Good heavens!'

'Well, you needn't get into a passion; I've had enough of passions for oneday. '

The impetuousness of the youth had struck through the fat nonchalance ofthe man, and he said after a pause:

'Yes, I suppose I do owe it to her. '

The apologetic, easy-going air with which this phrase was spoken maddenedMontgomery; he could have struck his friend full in the face, but for thesake of the woman he was obliged to keep his temper. 

'Putting aside the question of what you owe and what you don't owe, I'dlike to ask you where you could find a nicer wife? She's the prettiestwoman in the company, she's making now five pounds a week, and she lovesyou as well as ever a woman loved a man. I should like to know what moreyou want. '

This was very agreeable to hear, and after a moment's reflection Dick said:

'That's quite true, my boy, and I like her better than any other woman. Idon't think I could get anything better. If it weren't for that infernaljealousy of hers. Really, her temper is no joke. '

'Her temper is all right; she was as quiet as a mouse when you knew herfirst. Take my word for it, there are excellent reasons for her being a bitput out. '

'What do you mean?'

'Can't you guess?'

The two men stopped and looked each other full in the face, and thenresuming his walk, Montgomery said:

'Yes, it's so; she told me in the train coming up from Leamington. '

Tears glittered in Dick's eyes, and he became in that moment all pity, kindness, and good-nature. 

'Oh, the poor dear! Why didn't she tell me that before? And I'd scolded herfor ill-temper. '

His humanity was as large as his fat, and although he had never thought ofthe joys of paternity, now, in the warmth of his sentiments, he melted intoone feeling of rapture. After a pause, he said:

'I think I'd better go back and see her. '

'Yes, I think you'd better; fix a day for your marriage. '

'Of course. '

Nothing further was said; each absorbed in different thoughts the two menretraced their steps, and when they arrived at the door, Montgomery said:

'I think I'd better wish you good-bye. '

'No, come in, old man; she'd like to see you. '

And as if anxious to torture himself to the last, Montgomery entered. Katewas still locked in the bedroom, but there was such an unmistakable accentof trepidation and anxiety in Dick's fingers and voice that she openedimmediately. Her beautiful black hair was undone, and fell in rich massesabout her. Dick took her in his arms, and held her sobbing on his shoulder. All he could say was, 'Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry; you will forgive me, won't you?'

XIX

'Well, what are you going to give her? Do you see anything you like here?'

'Do you think that paper-cutter would do?'

'You can't give anything more suitable, ma'am. Then there are thesecard-cases; nobody could fail to like them. '

'What are you going to give, Annie?'

'Oh, I'm going to give her the pair of earrings we saw yesterday; but if Iwere you I wouldn't spend more than half a sovereign: it's quite enough. '

'I should think so indeed--a third of a week's screw, ' whispered Dolly, 'but she ain't a bad one, and Dick will like it, and may give me a line orso in _Olivette_. How do you think she'll do in the part?'

'We'll talk about that another time. Are you going to buy thepaper-cutter?'

Casting her eyes in despair around the walls of the fancy-goods shop to seeif she could find anything she liked better, Dolly decided in favour of thepaper-cutter and paid the money after a feeble attempt at bargaining. 

In the street they saw Mortimer, who had now allowed his hair to grow inlong, snake-like curls completely over his shoulders. 

'For goodness' sake come away, ' cried Beaumont, 'I do hate speaking to himin the street, everybody stares so. '

The girls turned to fly, but the heavy lead was upon them, and in his mostnasal tones said:

'Well, my dear young ladies, engaged in the charming occupation of buyingnuptial gifts?'

'How very sharp you are, Mr. Mortimer, ' answered Dolly in her pertestmanner; 'and what are you going to give? We should so much like to know. '

After a moment's hesitation he said, throwing up his chin after the mannerof a model sitting for a head of Christ:

'My dear young lady, you must not exhibit your curiosity in that way; it'snot modest. '

'But do tell us, Mr. Mortimer; you're a person of such good taste. '

The comic tragedian considered for a moment what he could say mostill-natured and so get himself out of his difficulty. 

'I tell you, young lady, I'm not decided, but I think that a copy ofWesley's hymns bound up with the book of the _Grand Duchess_ might notbe inappropriate. '

'But how do you think she'll play the Countess?' asked Beaumont. 

'Oh, we mustn't speak of that now she's going to be married, ' and, thinkinghe could not better this last remark, Mortimer bade the ladies good-bye andwent off with curls and coat-tails alike swinging in the breeze. Farther upthe street Beaumont and Dolly were joined by Leslie, Bret, and Dubois, andthe same topics were again discussed. 'What are you going to give?' 'Haveyou bought your present?' 'Have you seen mine?' 'Do you know who's going tobe at the wedding breakfast? They can't ask more than a dozen or so. ' 'Haveyou heard that the chorus have clubbed together to buy Dick a chain?' 'It'svery good of them, but they'll feel hurt at not being asked to thebreakfast. ' 'What will the Lennoxes do?' These and a hundred otherquestions of a similar sort had been asked in the dressing-rooms, in thewings, in the streets at every available moment since Morton and Cox's_opéra bouffe_ company had arrived in Liverpool. Everybody professedto consider the event the happiest and most fortunate that could havehappened, but Mortimer's words, 'There's many a slip between the ring andthe finger, ' recurred to them whenever the conversation came to a pause, and they hoped the marriage might yet be averted, even when they stood onebright summer morning assembled on the stage, awaiting the arrival of thebride and bridegroom. The name of the church had been kept a secret, andall that was known was that Leslie--who had joined another company inLiverpool--Bret, Montgomery, and Beaumont had gone to attend as witnesses, and that they would be back at the theatre at twelve to run through thethird act of _Olivette_ before producing it that night. 

Many false alarms were given, but when at last the bridal party walked fromthe wings on to the stage, Dick's appearance provoked a little good-naturedlaughter, so respectable did he look in a spick-and-span new frock-coat andhis tall hat. Kate never looked prettier; Mortimer said her own husbandwouldn't know her. 

She wore a dark green silk pleated down the front, from underneath which apatent-leather boot peeped as she walked; a short jacket showed the drawingof her shoulders, the delicacy of her waist, and the graceful fall of thehips. She carried in her hand a bouquet of yellow and pink roses, a presentfrom Montgomery. 

'Now, ladies and gentlemen, I won't detain you long, but do let us runthrough the third act, so as to have it right for the night. Montgomery, will you oblige me by playing over that sailor-chorus?'

Dick took the girls in sections and placed them in the positions he desiredthem to hold. 

'Now, then; enter the Countess. Who's in love with the Countess?'

'Well, if you don't know, I don't know who does, ' said Mortimer. 'I hearyou've been swearing all the morning "till death do us part. "'

A good deal of laughter greeted this pleasantry and Dick himself could notrefrain from joining in. At last he said:

'Now, Kate, dear, do leave off laughing and run through your song. '

'I-I-ca-n't--can-'t; you--you--are--t-t-too funny. '

'We shall never get through this act, ' said Dick, who had just caught MissLeslie walking off with Bret into the green-room. Now, Miss Leslie, can'tyou wait until this rehearsal is over?'

'They'll be late for church to-day; they may as well wait. '

Another roar of laughter followed this remark, and Kate said:

'You'd better give it up, Dick, dear; it will be all right at night. Iassure you I shall be perfect in my music and words. '

'I must go through the act. The principals are responsible for themselves, but I must look to the chorus. Where's that damned property-master?'

On the subject of rehearsals Dick was always firm, and seeing that it couldnot be shirked, the chorus pulled themselves together, and the act was runthrough somehow. Then a few more invitations were whispered in the cornerson the sly, and the party in couples and groups repaired to the Lennoxes'lodgings. Mortimer, Beaumont, Dick, and Kate walked together, talking ofthe night's show. Dubois crushed his bishop's hat over his eyes, straddledhis ostler-like legs, and discussed Wagner's position in music withMontgomery and Dolly Goddard. A baronet's grandson, a chorus singer, toldhow his ancestor had won the Goodwood Cup half a century ago, to threeladies in the same position in the theatre as himself. Bret and Lesliefollowed very slowly, apparently more than ever enchanted with each other. 

For the wedding breakfast, the obliging landlady had given up her own roomson the ground-floor. The table extended from the fireplace to the cabinet, the panels of which Mortimer was respectfully requested not to break whenhe was invited to take the foot of the table and help the cold salmon. Thebride and bridegroom took the head, and the soup was placed before them;for this was not, as Dick explained, a breakfast served by Gunter, but adinner suitable to people who had been engaged for some time back. At thisjoke no one knew if they should laugh or not, and Mortimer slyly attractedthe attention of the company to Bret and Leslie, who were examining thecake. 

Then all spoke at once of the presents. They were of all sorts, and hadcome from different parts of the country. Mr. Cox had given a large diamondring. Leslie had presented Kate with a handsome inkstand. Bret had boughther a small gold bracelet. Dubois, whose fancies were light, offered a fan;Beaumont, a pair of earrings; Hayes, a cigarette case; Dolly Goddard, apaper-knife; Montgomery, a brooch which must have cost him at least amonth's salary. Mortimer exclaimed that his wife had been behaving ratherbadly lately, and that in consequence he had been unable to obtain fromher--what he had not been able to obtain Dick did not stop to listen to. Atthat moment the gold chain, the present from the chorus, caught his eye. The kindness of the girls seemed to affect him deeply, and, interruptingKate, who was thanking her friends for all their tokens of good-will, hesaid:

'I must really thank the ladies of the chorus for the very handsome presentthey made me. How sorry I am that they are not all here to receive mythanks I cannot say; but those who are here will, I hope, explain to theircomrades how we were pressed for space. '

'One would think you were refusing a free admission, ' snarled Mortimer. 

'What a bore that fellow is!' whispered Dick to Mr. Cox, the proprietor ofthe company, who had come down from London to arrange some business withhis manager. 

'I'm sure, Mr. Lennox, we were only too glad to be able to give yousomething to show you how much we appreciate your kindness, ' said a tallgirl, speaking in the name of the chorus. 

'We must have some fizz after the show to-night on the stage. What do youthink. Cox?' said Dick. 'And then I shall be able to express my thanks toeveryone. '

'And we must have a dance, ' cried Leslie. 'My foot is all right now. '

Chairs had to be fetched in from the bedroom and even from the kitchen toseat the fifteen people who had been invited. The ladies did not likesitting together and the supply of gentlemen was not sufficient--drawbacksthat were forgotten when the first few spoonfuls of soup had been eaten andthe sherry tasted. The women examined Mr. Cox with looks of deep inquiry, but his face told them nothing; it was grave and commercial, and he spokelittle to anyone except Kate and her husband. The baronet's son sat in themiddle of the table with the three chorus-girls, whom he continued topester with calculations as to how much he would be worth, but for hisancestor's ambition to win the Derby with Scotch Coast. Leslie and Bretwere on the other side of the wedding cake, and they leant towards eachother with a thousand little amorous movements. Beaumont spoke of theevening's performance, putting questions to Montgomery with a view toattracting Mr. Cox's attention. 

'Do you think, Mr. Montgomery, that to take an encore for my song willinterfere with the piece?'

'I never heard of a lady putting the piece before herself, ' saidMontgomery, with a loud laugh, for he, too, was anxious to attract Mr. Cox's attention, and availing himself of Miss Beaumont's question as a'lead up, ' he said, 'I hope that when my opera is produced I shall findartists who will look as carefully after my interests. '

'But when will you have your opera ready?' Kate asked. 

'My opera?' he said, as soon as she averted the brown eyes that burnt intohis soul. 'It's all finished. It's ready to put on the stage when Dicklikes. '

The ruse proved successful, for Mr. Cox, bending forward, said in aninterested voice:

'May I ask what is the subject of your opera, Mr. Montgomery?'

This was charming, and the musician at once proceeded to enter into acomplicated explanation, in which frequent allusion was made to a king, aband of conspirators, a neighbouring prince, a beautiful daughterunfortunately in love with a shepherd, and a treacherous minister. Beaumontlistened wearily, and, seeing that no mention she could make of her singingwould avail her, she commenced to fidget abstractedly with one of her bigdiamond earrings. In the meanwhile Montgomery's difficulties wereincreasing. To follow successfully the somewhat intricate story of king, conspirators, and amorous shepherd a sustained effort of attention wasnecessary, and this Dick, Kate, and Mr. Cox found it difficult to grant;for in the middle of a somewhat involved bit--in which it was not quiteclear whether the king or the minister had entered disguised--the landladywould beg to be excused--if they would just make a little way, so that shemight remove the soup. 

This lady, in her Sunday cap, assisted by the maid-of-all-work, from whosecanvas-grained hands soap and water had not been able to extract the dirt, strove to lift large dishes of food over the heads of the company. Therewas a sirloin of beef that had to be placed before Mortimer. Then came twopairs of chickens, the carving of which Dick had taken upon himself. Apiece of bacon with cabbage, and a pigeon-pie, adorned the sides of thetable. The cutlets were handed round; and for some time conversation gaveway to the more necessary occupation of eating. Even Bret and Leslie leftoff billing and cooing; the grandson of the baronet, forgetful of hisfamily's misfortunes on the turf, dug vigorously into the pigeon-pie andliberally distributed it. The clattering of knives and forks swelled into asustained sound, which was only broken by observations such as 'Thanks, Mr. Lennox, anything that's handy--a leg, if you please. ' 'May I ask you, Montgomery, for a slice of bacon? No cabbage, thank you. ' 'Mr. Mortimer, alittle more and some gravy; that'll do nicely. '

It was not until the first helping had been put away, and eyes began towander in search of what would be best to go on with, that conversation wasresumed. To Mortimer, who had had a good deal of trouble with the beef, Dick said, 'I hope you are satisfied with your part, Mortimer, and that weshall have some good roars. The piece ought to go with a scream. '

'I think I shall knock 'em this time, old boy, ' said the comic man, drawling his words slowly through his nose. 'It pretty well killed me whenI read it over to myself, so I don't know what it will be when I spit itout at them. '

This was deemed unnecessarily coarse, and for a moment it was feared thatMortimer was as drunk as Mr. Hayes, whose eyes were now beginning to blinkpathetically. He awoke up, however, with a start and a smile when the firstchampagne cork went off, and holding out his glass, said, 'Shall be veryglad to drink your health, a wedding only comes once in a lifetime. '

Mortimer tried to turn the embarrassing pause that followed this remark tohis profit. The beef having kept him silent during the early part of thedinner, he resolved now to prove what a humorist he was, and by raising hisvoice he strove to attract the attention of the company to himself. This, however, was not easily done. Dubois had begun to pinch the backside of thecanvas-handed maid, who was lifting a plate of custards over his head; butthese frivolities did not prevent him from discussing Carlyle's place inEnglish literature with the baronet's son on his left, and arguing fromtime to time with Montgomery on his right against certain effects employedby Wagner in his orchestration. Kate laid down her spoon and stared vaguelyinto space and again laid her hand on Dick's. 

The past seemed now to be completely blotted out. What more could shedesire? She would go on acting, and Dick would continue to love her. Bysome special interposition of Providence all the hazards of existence overwhich she might have fallen had been swept aside. What broader road could awoman hope to walk in than the one that lay before her in all its clear andbland serenity? God had been good to her! and He was going to be good toher. What a tie the child would be, what an influence, what a source offuture happiness! They would work for their child; a boy or girl, which?Would it not give them courage to work? Would it not give them strength tolive? It would be something to hope for. Oh, how good God had been to her;and how wicked she had been to Him! Her heart filled with a fervour offaith she had never felt before; and facing the gracious future which achild and husband promised her, she offered up thanksgivings for herhappiness, which she accepted as eternal, so inherent did it seem inherself. 

'Oh, just look at him!' said Kate, waking up with a start from herreveries. 'How can he make such a beast of himself?'

'Don't take any notice of him, dear; that's the best way. '

But Mortimer, who had been vainly struggling for the last five minutes todraw Beaumont from the memory of a lord, Dubois from his Wagnerianargument, and Bret and Leslie from their flirtation, now seized on poorHayes's drunkenness as a net wherein he could capture everybody. Raisinghis voice so as to ensure silence, he said, addressing himself to Mr. Coxat the other end of the table, 'How very affecting he is now, how severelynatural; the innocence of a young girl in her teens is not, to my mind, nearly so touching as that of a boozer in his cups. Have you ever heard howhe fancied the waiter was calling him in the morning when the policeman washauling him off to the station?'

Mr. Cox had not heard; and the whole story of how they bumped in the hoteldoor at Derby had to be gone through. Having thus got the company by theear, Mortimer showed for a long time no signs of letting them go. He wentstraight through his whole repertoire. He told of a man who wanted to posta letter, but not being able to find the letterbox, he applied to apoliceman. The bobby showed him something red in the distance, andexplained that that was the post. 'Keep the red in your eye, my boy, ' saidthe drunkard; and this he did until he found himself in a public-housetrying to force his letter down a soldier's collar. He had mistaken the redcoat for the pillar. This was followed by a story of a man who apologizedto the trees in St. James's Park, and explained to them that he had comefrom a little bachelor's party, until he at last sat down saying, 'This isno good; I mus-mush wait till the bloody pro-prochession has passed. ' Aheavy digestive indifference to everything was written on each countenance;and in the slanting rays of the setting sun the curling smoke vapoursassumed the bluest tints. Odours of spirits trailed along the tablecloth. Disconnected fragments of conversation, heard against the uninterruptedmurmur of Mortimer's story-telling, struck the ear. The baronet's son wasnow explaining to his three ladies that no woman could expect to get on inlife unless she were very immoral or very rich; Dubois argued across thetable with Leslie and Bret concerning the production of the voice: Beaumontcast luminous and provoking glances at Mr. Cox, and tried to engage him inconversation regarding the inartistic methods of most stage-managers inarranging the processions. 

'Dick, dear, the cake hasn't yet been cut. '

'No more it hasn't, ' Dick answered, and when the white-sugared emblem oflove and fidelity was distributed, the wedding party awoke to a burst ofenthusiasm. Everyone suggested something, and much whisky and water wasspilt on the tablecloth. 

But matters, although they were advanced a stage, did not seem to be muchexpedited. The bride's health had to be drunk, and Dick had to returnthanks. He did not say very much, but his remarks concerning_Olivette_ suggested a good deal of comment. Mortimer took a differentview of the question, and Dubois explained at length how the piece had beendone in France. Leslie insisted that Bret should say something; and once onhis legs, to the surprise of everybody, the silent tenor becamesurprisingly garrulous. 

It was Kate, however, who first guessed the reason of Montgomery'sdespondency, and in pity for him, she made a sign to the ladies, and theroom was left to the flat chests and tweed coats. Montgomery prayed thatthis after-dinner interval would not prove a long one, for he dreaded thesmutty stories. The baronet's son sprang off with a clear lead, watched byMortimer and Dubois. In the way of anecdotes these two would have beenrivals had it not been for the latter's fancy for more serious discussions. Still, in the invention and collection of the most atrocious, they bothemployed the energy and patience of the entomologist. A chance word, out ofwhich a racy story might be extracted, was pursued like a rare moth or abutterfly. Dubois's were more subtle, but Mortimer's, being more to thepoint, were more generally effective. 

They waited eagerly for the baronet's son to conclude, and he had hardlypronounced the last phrase when Mortimer, coming with a rush, took the leadwith 'That reminds me of--' Dubois looked discomfited, and settled himselfdown to waiting for another chance. This, however, did not come just atonce; Mortimer told six stories, each nastier than the last. Everybody wasin roars except Montgomery and Dubois; whilst one thought of his opera, theother searched his memory for something that would out-Mortimer Mortimer. This was difficult, but when his turn came he surprised the company. Mr. Cox leaned over the table with a glass of whisky and water in his handdeclaring that he had never spent so pleasant a day in his life: and thusencouraged Dubois was just beginning to launch out into the intricacies ofa fresh tale when Montgomery, beside himself with despair, said to Dick:

'It was arranged that I should play the music of my new opera over to Mr. Cox. If you don't put a stop to this it will go on for ever. '

'Yes, my boy, it's getting a bit long, isn't it: just let Dubois finish andwe'll go upstairs. '

The story proved a weary one; but like a long railway journey it at lastdrew to an end, and they went upstairs. There they found the ladies yawningand looking at the presents. Kate ran to Dick to ask him to arrange aboutthe music, but Beaumont had been a little before her and had taken Mr. Coxout on the balcony. Bret was not in the room; Leslie did not know themusic, and in the face of so many difficulties, Dick's attention soon beganto wander, and Kate was left to console the disappointed musician. Once ortwice she attempted to renew the subject, but was told that they were allgoing down to the theatre in half an hour, and that it had better be putoff to another time. 

Montgomery made no answer, but he could not cast off the bitter andmalignant thought that haunted him, 'I'm as unfortunate in art as in love. '

XX

The ebb of the company's prosperity dated from Kate's marriage. Somehowthings did not seem to go well after. In the first place the production of_Olivette_ was not a success. Mortimer was drunk, did not know hiswords, and went 'fluffing all over the shop. ' Kate, excited with champagneand compliments, sang the wrong music on one occasion; and to completetheir misfortunes, the Liverpool public did not in the least tumble to MissBeaumont's rendering of the part of the heroine. The gallery thought shewas too fat, the papers said she was not sprightly enough, and on Wednesdaynight the old _Cloches_ had to be put up. By this failure themanagement sustained a heavy loss. They had laid out a lot of money ondresses, property and scenery, all of which were now useless to them; andthe other two operas were beginning to droop and lose their drawing power, having been on the road for the last three years. The country, too, wassuffering from a great commercial crisis, and no one cared to go to thetheatre. In many of the towns they visited strikes were on, and the peoplewere convulsed with discussions, projects for resistance, and hopes ofbettering their condition. Great social problems, the tyranny of capital, and such-like, occupied the minds of men, and there was naturally littletaste for the laughing nonchalance of _La Fille de Madame Angot_ orthe fooling of the Baillie in the _Cloches_. As forty thousand men hadstruck work, our band of travelling actors rolled out of Leeds, and theyleft it bearing with them only a reminiscence of empty benches, andstreet-corners crowded with idling, sullen-faced men. At Newcastle theywere not more fortunate, at Wigan they fared even worse, and at Hull it wasequally bad. Gaiety seemed to have fled out of the North; the public-houseand the platform drew away the pit and the gallery; the frequenters of theboxes and dress-circle remained at home, to talk around their firesides oftheir jeopardized fortunes. When the workers grow weary of work a hard timesets in for the sellers of amusement, and the fate of Morton and Cox'sOperatic Company proved no exception to the rule. Money was made nowhere, and every Friday night a cheque for five-and-twenty pounds had to be sentdown from London to make up the deficit in the salary list. Neverthelessfor two months matters went on very smoothly. The remembrance of largeprofits made in preceding years was still fresh in the minds of Messrs. Morton and Cox, and they had not yet begun to grumble; but anunintermittent drain of twenty-five to forty pounds a week keeps a man fromhis sleep at night, and after a big failure in the city, in which Mr. Coxwas muleted to the extent of a couple of thousand pounds, he wrote to Dicksuggesting that he had better look out for another opera. This was welcomenews to Montgomery; but no sooner had Dick raised him to the seventh heavenof bliss, than he had to knock him down to earth again: a letter arrivedfrom Mr. Cox, saying that no opera was to be put up; that it would beuseless to try anything new in such bad times; they had better try toreduce expenses instead. 

'Reduce expenses? How are we to reduce expenses except by cutting down thesalaries?'

'I'm sure I don't know, ' said Montgomery; 'and the expense of mounting mypiece would be very slight. '

Without attempting to discuss so vain a question, Dick said, 'I must speakto Hayes. '

But Hayes only pulled his silky whiskers, blinked his Chinese eyes, drankthree glasses of whisky, and changed the position of his black bag severaltimes, and the matter was scarcely alluded to again until the followingfortnight, when Dick found himself forced to write to Mr. Cox demanding acheque for thirty-five pounds, to meet Saturday's treasury and the currentexpenses of the following week. The cheque arrived, but the letter thatcame with it read very ominously indeed. It read as follows:

'DEAR MR. LENNOX, --I enclose you the required amount; but of course youwill understand that this cannot go on. I intend running down to see you onTuesday evening. Will you have the company assembled to meet me at thetheatre, as I have an important explanation to make to them. '

Dick had too much experience in theatrical speculations not to know thatthis must mean either a reduction of salaries or a break-up of the tour;but as two whole days still stood between him and the evil hour, it did notoccur to him to give the matter another thought, and it was not until theyreturned home after the theatre, to prepare for the Sunday journey, that hespoke to Kate of the letter he had received. 

Their portmanteaus were spread out before them, and Kate was counting herpetticoats when Dick said:

'I'll tell you what, Kate, I shouldn't be surprised if the company broke upshortly, and we all found ourselves obliged to look out for new berths. '

'What do you mean?' she said, with a startled look on her face. 

'Well, only that I think that Morton and Cox are beginning to get tired oflosing money. As you know, we've been doing very bad business lately, and Ithink they'll give us all the sack. '

'Give us all the sack!' Kate repeated. 

'Yes, ' said Dick, pursuing his own reflections 'I'm afraid it's so. It's adeuced bore, for we were very pleasant together. But I don't think I showedyou the letter I got this morning. What's the matter, dear?'

Pale as the petticoat at her feet, Kate stood with raised eyebrows andhands that twitched at the folds of her dress. 

'Oh, Dick! what shall we do? We shall starve; we shan't have any place togo to!'

'Starve!' said Dick in astonishment. 'Not if I know it. We shall easilyfind something else to do. Besides, I don't care if he does break up thetour. I believe there's a good bit of coin to be made out of the piertheatre at Blackpool. I've been thinking of it for some time--with a goodentertainment, you know; and then there's the drama Harding did for me--aversion of Wilkie Collins's story--_The Yellow Mask_--devilish good itis, too. I was reading it the other day. We might take a company out withit. Let me see, whom could we get to play in it?' And, sitting over hisportmanteau, the actor proceeded to cast the piece, commenting as he wentalong on the qualifications of the artists, and giving verbal sketches ofthe characters in the play. 'Beaumont would play Virginie first rate, youknow--a strong, determined, wicked woman, who stops at nothing. I'd like toplay the father; Mortimer would be very funny as the uncle. We'll have towrite in something for you. You couldn't take the sympathetic little girlyet; you haven't had enough experience. '

The expenses of scenery, properties, and posting were gone into, and whilelistening to the different estimates Kate looked at her husband vaguely, and plunged in a sort of painful wonderment, asking herself how standing onthe brink of ruin he could calmly make plans for the future. But to theactor, whose life had never run for a year without getting entangled insome difficult knot or other, the present hitch did not give the slightestuneasiness. A strange town to face and half a crown in his pocket mightcause him some temporary embarrassment, but a hundred pounds at the bank, and the notoriety of having been for two years the manager of a travellingcompany, was to Dick an exceptionally brilliant start in life, and it didnot occur to him to doubt that he would hop into another shop as good asthe one he had left. But as the woman had been engaged in none of theseanxious battles for existence, the news of a threatened break-up of herworld fell with a cruel shock upon her, and she experienced in anaggravated form the same dull nervous terror from which she had suffered inthe early days when she had first joined the company, but then the fulltide of love and prosperity bore their bark along, and quieted her fears. But now in the first puff of the first squall she saw herself like onewrecked and floating on a spar in a wide and unknown sea of trouble. Sitting on the bed where she would never sleep again, she watched Dickcounting on his fingers and looking dreamily into the spaces of someimpossible future, and asked herself what was to become of them. For thetwentieth time since she had donned them the robes of the Bohemian fellfrom her, and she became again in instincts and tastes a middle-class womanlonging for a home, a fixed and tangible fireside where she might sit inthe evening by her husband's side, mending his shirts, after the work ofthe day. A bitter detestation of her wandering life rose to her head, andshe longed to beg of her husband to give up theatricals, and try to findsome other employment; and the next day it appeared to her more thanusually sinful to drive to the station as the church bells were chiming, spending the hours, that should have been passed in praying, in playing'nap, ' smoking cigarettes, and talking of wigs, make-ups, choruses, andsuch-like. But apparently there was no help for it, and on Monday night, inher excitement, increased by the arrival of Mr. Cox, she could not helpgetting out of bed to beseech God to be merciful to them; her husband'sheavy breathing often interrupted her, but it told her that he was herhusband, and that was her only consolation. 

It astonished her that he could sleep as he did, having in front of him theterrible to-morrow, when perhaps Mr. Cox would cast them adrift; and shetrembled in every fibre when she stood on the stairs leading to themanager's room. There was a great crowd: the chorus-girls wedged themselvesinto a solid mass, and murmured good-mornings to each other; Mortimer tolda long story from the top step; Dubois tried to talk of Balzac toMontgomery, who listened, puzzled and interested, fancying it was aquestion of a libretto; whilst Bret, till now silent as the dead, suddenlywoke up to the conclusion that it would probably all end in a reduction ofsalaries. At last Dick appeared and called them into the presence of Mr. Cox. Whisky and water was on the table, and with the silky whiskers plungedin the black bag, Mr. Hayes fumbled aimlessly with many papers. The 'boss'looked very grave and twitched at a heavy moustache; and when they were allgrouped about him, in his deepest and most earnest tones, he explained hismisfortunes. For the last four months he had been forced to send down aweekly cheque of not less than five-and-twenty pounds; sometimes, indeed, the amount had run up to forty pounds. This, of course, could not go on forever, he had not the Bank of England behind him. But talking of banks, although there was no reason why he should inflict on them an account ofhis bad luck, he could not refrain from saying that had it not been for acertain bank he should be forced to ask them to accept half salaries. Thewords brought a flush of indignation to Beaumont's cheeks. She made aslight movement, as if she were going to repudiate the suggestionviolently, but the silence of those around calmed her, and she contentedherself with murmuring to Dolly:

'This is an old dodge. '

'I will leave you now, ' said Mr. Cox, 'to consult among yourselves as towhether you will accept my proposal, or if you would prefer me to break upthe tour at the end of the week, and pay you your fares back to London. '

As Mr. Cox left the room there was a murmur of inquiry from the chorusladies, and one or two voices were heard above the rest saying that theydid not know how they could manage on less than five-and-twenty shillings aweek. These objections were soon silenced by Dick, who in a persuasivelittle speech explained that the reduction of salaries applied to theprincipals only. 

'Then why derange these ladies and gentlemen by asking them to attend atthis meeting?' said Mortimer. 

To this question Dick made answer by telling the ladies and gentlemen ofthe chorus they might withdraw, and the discussion was resumed by thosewhom it concerned. Beaumont objected to everything. Bret spoke of goingback to Liverpool. Dubois explained his opinions on the management oftheatres in general, until Dick summoned him back to the point. Were theyor were they not going to accept half salaries? At length the matter wasdecided by Mortimer getting upon a chair and shouting through his nose asthrough a pipe:

'I don't know if you're all fond of hot weather, but if you are you'll findit to your taste in London; all the theatres are closed, and the cats arebaking on the tiles. '

This brought the argument to a pause, during which Beaumont remembered thatgrouse were shot in August, and settling her diamonds in her ears, sheagreed that the tour was to be continued. A few more remarks were made, andthen the party adjourned to a neighbouring 'pub. ' to talk of _opérabouffes_ and bad business. 

The next places they visited were Huddersfield and Bradford, but the housesthey played to were so poor that Mr. Cox summoned a general meeting on theSunday morning, and told them frankly that he could not go on losing moneyany longer; he would, however, lend them the dresses, and they might starta commonwealth if they liked. After much discussion it was decided toaccept his offer, and the afternoon was spent in striving to decide how thebusiness was to be carried on. A committee was at last formed consisting ofDick, Mortimer, Dubois, Montgomery, Bret, and Mr. Hayes, and they settled, as they went on to Halifax by an evening train, that the chorus was, hit ormiss, to be paid in full, and the takings then divided among the principalsproportionately to the salary previously received. 

In the face of the bad times it was a risky experiment, and Williams, theagent in advance, was anxiously looked out for at the station. What did hethink? Was there a chance of their doing a bit of business in the town?Were there bills up in all the public-houses? Williams did not at firstunderstand this unusual display of eagerness, but when the commonwealth wasexplained to him, his face assumed as grey an expression as the pimpleswould allow it. He shoved his dust-eaten pot-hat on one side, scratched histhin hair, and after some pressing, admitted that he didn't think that theywould do much good in the place; as far as he could see, everybody's ideaswere on striking and politics; the general election especially was playingthe devil with managers; at least that was what the company that had justleft said. 

This was chilling news, and, alas! each subsequent evening proved only thecorrectness of Mr. Williams's anticipations. Seven-pound houses were therule. On Friday and Saturday they had two very fair pits, but this couldnot compensate for previous losses, and in the end, when all expenses werepaid, only five-and-thirty shillings remained to be divided among theprincipals. Their next try was at Oldham, but matters grew worse instead ofbetter, and on Saturday night five-and-twenty shillings was sorrowfullyportioned out in equal shares. It did not amount to much more than half acrown apiece. Rochdale, however, was not far distant, and, still hopingthat times would mend, Morton and Cox's band of travelling actors sped ontheir way, dreaming of how they could infuse new life into their mumming, and whip up the jaded pleasure-tastes of the miners. But for the momentcomic songs proved weak implements in the search for ore, and the committeesitting in the green-room, used likewise as a dressing-room by the twoladies, counted out a miserable four-and-ninepence as the result of aweek's hard labour. 

Beaumont fumed before the small glass, arranging her earrings as if sheanticipated losing them; Kate trembled and clung to her husband's arm, Montgomery cast sentimental glances of admiration at her, and Mortimertried to think of something funny, while Dubois came to the point byasking:

'Well, what are you going to do with that four-and-ninepence? It isn'tworth dividing. I suppose we'd better drink it. '

At the mention of drinks Mr. Hayes blinked and shifted the black bag fromthe chair to the ground. 

'Yes, that's easily arranged, ' said Dick, 'but what about the tour? I forone am not going on at four-and-ninepence a week. '

'Sp-pend--it--in drinks, ' stuttered Mr. Hayes, awakening to a partial senseof the situation. 

Everybody laughed, but in the pause that ensued, each returned to the ideathat there was no use going on at four-and-ninepence a week. 

'For we can't live on drink, although Beaumont can upon love, ' saidMortimer, determined to say something. 

But the joke amused no one, and for some time only short and irrelevantsentences broke the long silences. At last Dick said:

'Well, then, I suppose we'd better break up the tour. '

To this proposal no one made much objection. Murmurs came from differentsides that it was a great pity they should have to part company in this wayafter having been so long together. Montgomery and Dubois contributedlargely to this part of the conversation, and through an atmosphere ofwhisky and soap-suds arose a soft penetrating poetry concerning thedelights of friendship. It was very charming to think and speak in thisway, but all hoped, with perhaps the exception of Montgomery, that no onewould insist too strongly on this point, for in the minds of all newthoughts and schemes had already begun to germinate. Mortimer remembered aletter he had received from a London manager; Dubois saw himself hobnobbingagain with the old 'pals' in the Strand; Bret silently dreamed of MissLeslie's dyed hair and blue eyes, and of his chances of getting into thesame company. 

'Then, if it is decided to break up the tour, we must make a subscriptionto send the chorus back to London, ' said Dick after a long silence. 

Nobody till now had thought of these unfortunate people and theirtwenty-five shillings a week, but always ready to help a lame dog over astile, Dick planked down two 'quid' and called on the others to do whatthey could in the same way. Mr. Hayes strewed the table instantly with themoney he had in his pocket. Mortimer spoke about his wife and mentioneddetails of an intimate nature to show how hard up he was; he neverthelessstumped up a 'thin 'un. ' Beaumont, rampant at the idea of 'parting, 'contributed the same; indignant looks were levelled at her, and Dickcontinued to exhort his friends to be generous. 'The poor girls, ' hedeclared, 'must be got home; it would never do to leave them starving inLancashire. ' Kate gave a sovereign of her savings, and in this waysomething over ten pounds was made up; with that Dick said he thought hecould manage. 

The trouble he took to manage everything was touching. On Sunday, when Katewas at church, he was down at the railway station trying to find out whatwere the best arrangements he could make. And on Monday morning when theywere all assembled on the platform to bid good-bye to their fellow-workers, it was curious to see this huge man, who at a first impression would betaken for a mere mass of sensuality, rushing about putting buns andsandwiches in paper bags for his poor chorus-girls, encouraging them withkind words, and when the train began to move, waving them large andunctuous farewells with his big hat. 

Since the first shock of the threatened break-up of the tour Kate hadgradually grown accustomed to the idea and now wept in silence. Withoutprecisely suffering from any pangs of fear for the future, an immensesadness seemed to ache within her very bones. All things were passing away. The flock of girls in whose midst she had lived was gone; a later trainwould take Mortimer to London; Bret was bidding them good-bye; Beaumont wasconsulting a Bradshaw. How sad it seemed! The theatre and artists werevanishing into darkness like a dream. Not a day, nor an hour, could she seein front of her. 

'What shall we do now?' she whispered to Dick, as she trotted along by hisside. 

'Well, I haven't quite made up my mind. I was thinking last night that itwouldn't be a bad idea to make up a little entertainment--four or five ofus--and see what we could do in the manufacturing towns. Lancashire is, youknow, honeycombed with them. Our travelling expenses would amount to a merenothing. We must have someone to operate on the piano. I wonder ifMontgomery would care about coming with us. '

Kate thought that he would, and as she happened at that moment to catchsight of the long tails of the Newmarket coat at the other side of thestation, she begged Dick to call to the erratic musician. No sooner was theproposition put forward than it was accepted, and in five minutes they wereat luncheon in a 'pub, ' arranging the details of the entertainment. 

'We shall want an agent-in-advance, a bill-poster, or something of thatkind, ' said Montgomery. 

'I've thought of that, ' replied Dick; 'Williams is our man, he'll see toall that; and I don't know if you know, but he can sing a good song on hisown account. '

'Can he? Well, then, we can't have anyone better--and what shall we takeout?'

'Well, we must have a little operetta, and I don't think we can do betterthan Offenbach's _Breaking the Spell_. '

'Right you are, ' said Montgomery, pulling out his pocket-book. '_Breakingthe Spell_, so far so good; now we must have a song or a charactersketch to follow, and I don't think it would be a bad idea if we rehearseda comedietta. What do you say to _The Happy Pair_?'

'Right you are, pencil it down, can't do better, it always goes well; andthen I can sing between "The Men of Harlech. "'

Montgomery looked a little awry at the idea of having to listen to 'The Menof Harlech, ' sung by Dick, but in the discussion that followed as to whatKate was to do, 'The Men of Harlech' was forgotten. 

As Dick anticipated, Williams declared himself delighted to accompany themin the double capacity of bill-poster and occasional singer; and after afortnight's rehearsal at Rochdale, the Constellation Company started on itswanderings. Many drinks had been consumed in seeking for the name; manystrange combinations of sound and sense had been rejected, and it was notuntil Dick began to draw lines on a piece of paper, affixing names to theend of each, that the word suggested itself. What joy! What rapture! A rushwas made to the printers, and in a few hours the following bill wasproduced:

 THE CONSTELLATION COMPANY. 

 MISS KATE D'ARCY. * |MR. R. LENNOX. *-------* MR. P. MONTGOMERY. | * MR. B. WILLIAMS. 

XXI

As the Constellation Company drove to the station, Kate noticed thatRochdale and Hanley were not unlike, and the likeness between the two townsset her thinking how strange it was. Here was the same red town, narrowstreets, built of a brick that, under a dull sky, glared to a rich geraniumhue. The purplish tints of Hanley alone were wanting, but the heavysmoke-clouds, and the tall stems of the chimneys, were as numerous inRochdale as in her native place. And, coincidence still more marvellous, Nature had apparently aided and abetted what man's hand had contrived, forin either town a line of hills swept around the sky. The only differencewas, that the characteristics of Rochdale were not so marked as those ofHanley. The hills were not so high, nor were they in such close array asthose of the Staffordshire town, and the Lancashire valley was not so deepand trench-like as the one that engirdles the potteries. It may be that asmuch smoke hung over it, but the smoke did not seem so black and poisonous, at least not to Kate's eyes; and, as the train sped along a high embankmenta group of factory chimneys emerged from a fold in the hills, and comparingthe two landscapes it seemed to her there were more fields in theLancashire valley, water-courses, trees and hedges--stunted hedges, it istrue--but she did not remember any hedges about Hanley. At one moment shewas minded to turn to Dick and to call his attention to the likeness in thecountry they were travelling through to the country she had come from; hadshe been alone with him she might have asked him, but he was now busytalking of the comic songs and sketches in which they were to act. 'TheMulligan Guards' was one of the items on their programme, and she and Dickwere going to sing it together. This would be the first time they had eversung together. Dick had very little voice, but he was a good actor, and shethought they would be able to make a success of it. He called her attentionand the attention of the other members of the Constellation Company to thescattered towns and villages they were passing through. 

'The very country for our kind of entertainment, ' he said; and all themummers rose from their seats and gazed at the wolds and factories. Underthe green waste of a wold a chimney had been run up; sheds and labourers'cottages had followed, and in five years, if the factory prospered, thisbeginning would swell into a village, in twenty it would possess twentythousand inhabitants; for just as in old times the towns followed thecastles, so do they now follow in the wake of the factories. The mummersgaped and wondered at the arsenic green sides of the wolds, striped withrough stone walls or blackened with an occasional coalpit, the ridgesfringed with trees blown thin by sea-breezes. In the distance, within thefolds of the hills, tall chimneys clustered and great clouds of smoke hunglistless in the still autumn air. Cold rays of sunlight strayed for amoment on the dead green of the fields, pale as invalids enjoying the airfor the last time before a winter seclusion. And later on, when the lightmists of evening descended and bore away the landscape, the phantom shapesof the wolds took on a strange appearance, producing in Kate a sensation ofmobility, which to escape from, for it frightened her, she turned to Dickand asked how far they were from Bacup. He told her they would be there inabout half an hour, and half an hour afterwards Williams, who had gone onin front, met them at the station, and began at once the tale of hisindustry, saying that he had been in every public-house, and had stood atthe corners of all the principal streets distributing bills. 

'I think we shall do pretty well, ' he said; 'my only bit of bad news isthat I haven't been able to find any lodgings for you; there's but onehotel, and all the rooms are taken. '

Dick, who on such occasions always took time by the forelock, insisted onstarting at once on their search--and up and down the murky streets of themanufacturing town they walked until it was time for them to repair to theMechanics' Hall, where they were going to play, and get ready for theentertainment. 

'The Mulligan Guards' proved a great success, as did also the operetta, _Breaking the Spell_. Kate's pretty face and figure won the hearts ofthe factory hands, and she was applauded whenever she appeared on thestage; and so frequent were the encores that it was half-past ten beforethey had finished their programme, and close on eleven o'clock before theygot out of the hall into the street. Then the search for lodgings had tobegin again. Montgomery and Williams, being single men, obtained beds, butKate and Dick were not so easily satisfied, and they found themselvesstanding under a porch with the lights going out on all sides, and theprospect of spending a wet night in the street before them. At last Dickbethought himself of the police station, but on applying to a policeman hewas directed to the backdoor of a public-house. 'He was pretty sure, 'whispered the boy in blue, 'to get put up there. ' The door was opened withprecaution, and they were allowed in. The place was full of people; it tookthem a long time to get served, and they were at length told that in theway of a room nothing could be done for them. Every bed in the house wasoccupied. Kate raised her eyes to Dick, but her look of misery wasanticipated by a rough-faced carter who stood at the counter. 

'You bear up, little woman, ' he said abruptly; 'don't yo' look sofroightent. Yo' shall both come up to my place, if yo' will; it isna up tomuch, but oi'll do th' best I can for yo'. '

There was no mistaking the kindness with which the offer was made, thoughthe idea of going to sleep at this rough man's house for the momentstaggered even the mummer. But as it was now clear that they would haveeither to accept their new friend's hospitality, or spend the night on thedoorstep, it did not take them long to decide on the former alternative. Their only reason for hesitating was their inability to understand whatwere his motives for asking them to come to his place. Then, as if diviningthe reason of their uncertainty, he said:

'I know yo' well, tho' yo' don't know me. I was up at the 'all to-night, and yo' did make me so laugh that I wouldna' see yo' in the streets fornothing. Neaw, let it be yea or nay, master. '

For answer, Dick put out his hand; and when he had thanked the hospitablyinclined carter, put some questions to him about the entertainment. Soonthe two began to 'pal, ' and after another drink they all went off together. 

After wading down a few sloppy streets, he stopped before a low doorway, and ushered them into what looked like an immense kitchen. They saw raftersoverhead and an open staircase ascending to the upper rooms, as a laddermight through a series of lofts; and when a candle had been obtained, thefirst thing their host did was to pull his wife out of bed, and insist onhis guests getting into it, a request which the woman joined in as heartilyas her husband as soon as the reason for this unceremonious awakening hadbeen explained to her. And so wearied out were Kate and Dick, and sotempting did any place of rest look to them, that they could offer noopposition to the kind intentions of their host and hostess, and they sleptheavily until roused next morning by a loud trampling of feet passingthrough their room. It was the family coming down from the lofts above, andas they descended the staircase they wished their guests a broad Lancashiregood-morning. 

And when Kate and Dick had recovered from their astonishment, they dressedand went out to buy some provisions, which they hoped to be allowed to cookin the rough kitchen; but when they returned with their purchases theyfound the carter's daughter standing before an elaborately preparedbreakfast, consisting of a huge beefsteak and a high pile of cakes. 

'Lor, marm, why did yo' buy those things?' said the girl, disappointed. 

'Well, ' said Kate, 'we couldn't think of trespassing on you in thatfashion. You must, you will, I hope, let us prepare our own breakfast. '

'Feyther will never 'ear of it, I know, ' said the girl; and immediatelyafter, the carter, with his brawny arms, pushed Kate and Dick down into twoseats at the big table. Both cake and meat were delicious, and Dick'sappetite showed such signs of outdoing the carter's that Kate, in the hopeof diverting attention, commenced an interesting conversation with thebuxom maiden by her side, and so successful were her efforts that afriendship was soon established between the women; and, when the morning'swork was done, Mary, of her own accord, sought out Kate, and as she knittedthe thick woollen stocking, was easily led into telling the inevitable lovestory. 

We change the surroundings, but a heart bleeds under all social variations;and in this grim manufacturing town when the bridal dress was taken out ofits lavender and darkness it seemed to possess a gleam of poetic whitenessthat it could not have had even if set off by the pleasant verdure of aDevonshire lane. 

'But you'll keep it for another; another will be sure to come by verysoon, ' said Kate, trying to console. 

'Nay, nay, I'll have no other, ' said the girl. 'I'll just keep the dressby; but I'll have no other. '

Then the talk hesitated and fell at last into a long narrative concerningtender hopes and illusions to which Kate listened, as all women do, to thestory of heart-aches and deceptions; and in after years, when all otherremembrances of the black country were swept away, the remembrance of thiswhite dress remained. 

From Bacup they went to Whitworth, a town in such immediate neighbourhoodthat it might be called a suburb of the former place, and there they playedin the Co-operative Hall to an audience consisting of a factory man, twochildren, and a postman who came in on the free list. This was notencouraging; but they, nevertheless, resolved to try the place again; andnext day at dinner-time, as the 'hands' were leaving the factories, theydistributed some hundreds of bills. Dick said he should never forget it; towatch Pimply Face cutting about, shoving his bills into the women's aprons, was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life. But their efforts wereall in vain. It rained, and not a soul came to see them; and, in additionto their other troubles, they found Whitworth was an awkward place to stopat. Dick and his wife had a room in a pub, but Montgomery and Williams hadto walk over each evening to sleep at Bacup. One day their landlady spokeof Clayton-le-Moors, where, she said, a fair was being held, and sheadvised the Constellation Company to try their entertainment there. Thiswas considered as a sensible suggestion, and the four mummers started forthe fair on the top of an omnibus with their wigs and dresses and make-upsstuck under their legs. The weather at least was in their favour. Thesunlight rolled over the great white sides of the booths, Aunt Sallies werebeing shied at, the pubs were all open, and a huge, rollicking population, fetid with the fermenting sweat of the factories, was disporting on whiskyand fresh air. Never were the spirits of dejected strolling players buoyedup with a fairer prospect of a harvest. 

The next thing to do was to distribute the handbills, and find a placewhere they could set up their show, and, to conduct their search morethoroughly, they separated, after having decided on a tryst. In this waythe town was thoroughly ransacked; but it was not until Kate, who had goneoff on her own accord, learnt from the landlord of a public-house, whereshe had entered to get a drink, that he had a large concert-room overhead, that there seemed to be the slightest chance of the Constellation Companybeing able to turn the joviality of the factory hands at the fair to anyaccount. Matters now seemed to be looking up, and a very neat littlearrangement was entered into with the proprietor of the pub. Fourentertainments of ten minutes each were to be given every hour, for each ofwhich the sum of threepence a head was to be charged, twopence to go to theartists, a penny to the landlord, who would, of course, make his 'bit' alsoout of the drink supplied. And what a success they had that day! Not onlydid the factory hands come in, but they paid their threepence over and overagain. They seemed never to grow tired of hearing Dick and Kate sing 'TheMulligan Guards, ' and when she called out 'Corps' and he touched his cap, and they broke into a dance, the delight of the workpeople knew no bounds, and they often stopped the entertainment to hand up their mugs of beer tothe mummers with a 'Ave a soop, mon. '

From twelve o'clock in the day until eleven at night the affair was keptgoing; Kate, Dick, and Williams dancing and singing in turn, and Montgomeryall the while spanking away at the dominoes. It was heavy work, but thecoin they took was considerable, and it came in handy, for in the nextthree towns they did very badly. But at Padiham a curious accident turnedout in the end very luckily for them. There were but five people in thehouse, one of whom was drunk. This fellow very humorously in the middle ofthe entertainment declared that he was going to sing a song; he even wantedto appropriate Williams's wig, and when Dick, who was always chucker-out onsuch occasions, attempted to eject him, he climbed out of reach and lodgedhimself in one of the windows. From there he proceeded to call to thepeople in the street, and with such excellent result that they made £18 inthe hall during the evening. 

This, and similar slices of good fortune, kept the Constellation Companyrolling from one adventure to another. Sometimes a wet day came to theirassistance; sometimes a dispute between some factory hands and the mastersbrought them a little money. Their wants were simple; a bed in a pub, and asteak for dinner was all they asked for. But at last, as winter wore on, ill-fortune commenced to follow them very closely and persistently. Theyhad been to four different towns and had not made a ten-pound note todivide between the lot of them. In the face of such adversity it was notworth while keeping on; besides, Kate's expected confinement rendered itimpossible to prolong their little tour much farther. For these reasons, one November morning the Constellation Company, hoping they would soon meetagain, under more auspicious circumstances, bade each other good-bye at therailway station. Williams and Montgomery went to Liverpool, Kate and Dickto make a stay at Rochdale, where they had heard that many companies werecoming. The companies came, it is true, but they were, unfortunately, filled up, and Lennox and his wife could not get an engagement in any ofthem. The little money saved out of their tour enabled them to keep bodyand soul together for about a month; but in the fifth week they weretelling the landlady lies, and going through all the classicexcuses--expecting a letter every day, by Monday at the very latest, etc. In the face of Kate's approaching confinement this was a state of thingsthat made even Dick begin to look anxiously round and fear for the safetyof the future. Kate, on the contrary, although fretted and wearied, tookmatters more easily than might have been expected; and the changing oftheir last ten shillings frightened her less than had the firstannouncement of the possible breaking up of Morton and Cox's OperaticCompany. Bohemianism had achieved in her its last victory; and havinglately seen so many of the difficulties of life solving themselves in waysthat were inexplicable to her, she had unconsciously come to think thatthere was no knot that chance, luck, or fate would not untie. Besides, herbig Dick's resources were apparently unlimited; the present weakness of hercondition tended to induce her to rely more than ever upon his protection;and in the lassitude of weak hopes, she contented herself with prayingoccasionally that all would yet come right. But her lover, although he toldher nothing of his fears, was not so satisfied. Never before had he beenquite so hard pressed. They now owed a week's rent, besides other smalldebts; all of which they were unable to pay unless they pawned theremainder of their clothes. He said it would be far better for them to goto Manchester, leaving their things, to be redeemed some day, as a securitywith the landlady--that is to say, if they failed to get out of the housewithout being perceived by her. They still had half a crown, which wouldpay Kate's railway fare, and as regards himself, Dick proposed that heshould do the journey on foot; he would be able to walk the distance easilyin three hours, and at eleven o'clock would join his wife at an addresswhich he gave her, with many injunctions as to the story that was to betold to the landlady. So, as the clock was striking seven one cold winter'smorning, they stole quietly downstairs, Dick carrying a small portmanteau. On the table of their room a letter was left, explaining that a telegramreceived overnight called them to Manchester, but that they hoped to beback again in a few days--a week at latest. 

This assurance Dick considered would amply satisfy the old dame, andholding the portmanteau on his shoulder with one arm, and supporting Katewith the other, he made his way to the station. 

The day had not yet begun to break. A heavy, sluggish night hung over thetown. The streets were filled with puddles and flowing mud; and Kate wasfrequently obliged to stop and rest against the lamp-posts. She complainedof feeling very ill, and she walked with difficulty. In the stragglinglight of the gas, Dick looked at her pale, pretty features, accentuated bysuffering; he felt that he had never known before how dearly he loved her, and the pity for her that filled his heart choked him when he attempted tospeak: and his eyes misted with tears and he could not bring his mind toleave her. He thought of the old dodge of travelling on the luggage, butfearing that the woman to whose house they were going would not let them inunless they had at least one portmanteau to show, he determined to adhereto the original plan of sending Kate on in front; and although tortured bymany fears, he hid them, assuring her that their troubles would be overonce they set foot in Manchester: all he had to do was to go down to theTheatre Royal to get an engagement. And he spoke so kindly that hiskindness seemed to repay her for her sufferings. 

For some days past she had been subject to violent nauseas and acute pains, and as she bade him goodbye out of the railway-carriage window, she had tobend and press herself against it. And feeling he must encourage her he ranalong the platform till the train began to leave him behind, and he stoppedout of breath with a cloud of melancholy upon his cheeks, generally sorestful in a happy animalism--yet the fat hand lifted the big-brimmed blackfelt hat, the frizzly curls blew in the cold wind, the train oscillated andthen rolled and disappeared round a bend in the line. 

That was all. What had been done was over, as completely as the splash madeby a stone dropped into a well, and the actor awoke to a feeling thatsomething new had again to be begun. 

After descending the steps of the station, he asked to be directed, and fora long time his way lay through a street, made by red brick houses withstucco porches; but at length these commenced to divide into cottages, andafter many inquiries, he was shown into what he was told was an old Romanroad, called 'Going over Tindel. ' The wind blew bitterly, and against amurky sky the fretted trees on the higher ridges were like veils of greylace. 

Walking was not Dick's forte, and leaning against a farm gate, his eyesembraced the wild black scenery, and remembrances of the Hanley hillsdrifted through his thoughts. There were the same rolling wastes, and likethe pieces on a chess-board the factory chimneys appeared at irregularintervals. But these topographical similarities attracted Dick only so faras they filled his mind with old memories and associations, and histhoughts flowed from the time he had stood with his wife at the top ofMarket Street to the present hour. He neither praised nor blamed himself. He accepted things as they were without criticism, and they appeared to himlike a turgid dream swollen and bleak as the confused expanse of distancebefore him. 

The stupor into which he occasionally fell endured until a quick thoughtwould strike through the mental gloom that oppressed him, and relinquishingthe farm gate he would moodily resume his walk through the heavy slosh ofthe wet roads. As he did so the vision of Kate's pain-stricken face hauntedhim, and at every step his horror of the danger she ran of being taken illbefore arriving in Manchester grew darker, and he toiled up hill afterhill, yearning to be near her, desiring only the power to relieve and tohelp. Often the intensity of his longing would force him into a run, andthen the farm labourers would turn from their work to gaze on this hugecreature, who stood on a hill-top wearily wiping his forehead. 

And then he grew sick of the long, staring, rolling landscape, with itsthousand sinuosities, its single trees, its detailed foreground of scrub, hedges, brooks, spanned by small brick bridges, the melting distance, themurky sky, the belching chimneys: he asked himself if it would never end, if it would never define itself into the streets of Manchester. And as hedescended each incline his eyes searched for the indication of a town, until at last he saw lines of smoke, factories, and masses of brick on hisleft, and he hastened. 

All the markings of the way were looked forward to, the outlying streetsseemed endless, and so great was his hurry that before he discovered he wasin Oldham, he had walked into the middle of the town. 

His disappointment was bitter indeed, almost unbearable, and for the momenthe felt that he could go no farther; his courage was exhausted, it wasimpossible he could face that bleak mocking landscape again. Besides, hewas fainting for want of food. Had he possessed a few pence to treathimself to a glass of beer and a bit of bread and cheese, he thought hewould be able to pull himself together and make another effort; but he wasdestitute. Still, he was forced to try again. The thought of Kate burned inhis brain, and after having inquired the way, with weary and aching feet heonce more trudged manfully on. A fretful suspicion now haunted him that shemight not find the landlady as agreeable as would under the circumstancesbe desirable, and he reasoned with himself as he crossed into the opencountry, until anxiety became absorbed by fatigue. Of every passer-by didhe ask the way, and as he passed the stately villas Dick felt that hadthere been much farther to walk he would have had to beg a lift from one ofthe waggoners who passed him constantly driving their heavy teams. But hewas now in Manchester, and wondering if he had taken longer to walk than hehad expected, he looked into the shop windows in search of a clock, andwhen he rang at the door of the lodging-house his heart beat as rapidly asthe jangling bell that pealed through the house The maid who answered thedoor told him that she knew of no such person and was about to shut thedoor in his face, but Dick's good-natured smile compelled her into parley, and she admitted that, having been out on an errand, she had not seen themissus since ten o'clock. A lady might have called, but she wasn't in thehouse now; they were as full as they could hold. 

'And are you certain that a lady might have called about ten or half-pastwithout your having seen her?'

'I was out on a herrant at that time, so I'm sure she might, for missuswouldn't mind to tell me if I wasn't to get rooms ready for her. '

'And what would your mistress do in the case of not being able to supply alady with rooms?'

'I should think she would send round to Mrs. ----well--I don't rememberright the name. '

'Do you know the address?'

'I know it's behind the station, one of those streets where--nay--but Idon't think I could direct you right. '

'Then what shall I do?'

'Missus will be in shortly. If you'll take a seat in the 'all--I can't askyou into any other room, they're all occupied. '

There was nothing to do but to accept, and after having asked when thelandlady might be expected in, and receiving the inevitable 'Reallycouldn't say for certain, sir, but I don't think she'll be long, ' he satdown in a chair, weary and footsore; there were times when struck by asudden thought he would make a movement as if to start from his seat; butinstantly remembering his own powerlessness, he would slip back into hisattitude of heavy fatigue. In the dining-room the clock ticked, and helistened to the passing of the minutes, tortured by the idea that his wifewas suffering, dying, and that he was not near to help, to assist, toassuage. He forgot that they were penniless, homeless; all was lost in aboundless pity, and he listened to the footsteps growing sharper as theyapproached, and duller as they went. At last the sound of the latchkey washeard in the lock, and Dick started to his feet. It was the landlady. 

'Have you seen my wife?'

'Yes, sir, ' exclaimed the astonished woman; 'she was here this morning; allour rooms are let, so I couldn't----'

'Where has she gone to, do you know?'

'Well, sir, I was going to say, she asked me if I could recommend her tosome quiet place, and I sent her to Mrs. Hurley's. '

'And will you give me Mrs. Hurley's address?'

'Yes, sir, certainly; but if I may make so bold, you're looking verytired--may I offer you a glass of beer? And Mrs. Lennox is looking very badtoo, she is--'

'I'm much obliged, but I've no time; if you'd give me the address.... '

No sooner were the words spoken than, forgetful of his aching feet, Dickrushed away, and dodging the passers-by he ran until he laid hands on theknocker and bell in question. 

'Is Mrs. Lennox staying here?' he asked of the lady who opened the door. 

'There was a lady of that name who inquired for rooms here this morning. '

'And isn't she here? Why didn't she take the rooms?'

'Well, sir, she said she was expecting to be confined, and I didn't care tohave illness in my house. '

'You don't mean to tell me that you turned her out? Oh, you atrocious--! Ifyou were a man.... '

Overpowered with rage he stopped for words, and the woman, fearing he wouldstrike her, strove to shut the door. But Dick, with his thick leg, prevented her, and at this moment they were joined by the maid, whoscreamed over her mistress's shoulder:

'The lady said she would come round here in a couple o' hours' time to askfor you, and I advised her to try for rooms at No. 28 in this street. You'll find her there. '

This was enough for Dick, and loosing his hold on the door he made off;streets, carriages, passers-by, whirled before his eyes. 

'Is Mrs. Lennox here?' he asked so roughly when the door was opened, thatthe maid regretted having said yes as soon as the word had passed her lips. 

'On what floor?'

'The first, sir; but you'd better let me go up first. Mrs. Lennox is notvery well; she's expecting her husband. '

'I'm her husband. '

And on that Dick rushed at the staircase. A few strides brought him on tothe first landing; but a sudden disappointment seized him--the sitting-roomwas empty. Thinking instantly of the bedroom, he flung open the door, andthere he saw Kate sitting on the edge of the bed rocking herself to andfro. She rose to her feet and the expression of weary pain was changed toone of joy as she fell into Dick's arms. 

'I thought you'd never come, and they would take me in nowhere. '

'Yes, my darling, I know all about it; I know all. '

He laid kisses on the rich black-blue hair and the pale tired face; he feltlight hands resting on him; she felt strong arms clasped about her, andeach soul seemed to be but the reflection of the other, just as the sky andthe sea are when the sun is at its meridian. 

Then, at this brief but ineffable moment of spiritual unison faded wordsreturned to them, and Kate spoke of all she had suffered. She whispered thestory she had told the landlady, and how she had ordered a big dinner, andeverything of the best, so that they might not be suspected of being hardup. Dick approved of these arrangements; but just as he smacked his lips, aforetaste of the leg of mutton in his mouth, Kate uttered a sort of lowcry, and turning pale, pressed her hands to her side. A sharp pain hadsuddenly run through her, and as quickly died away; but a few minutes afterthis was succeeded by another, which lasted longer and gripped her moreacutely. Supporting her tenderly he helped her across the room and laid heron the bed. There she seemed to experience some relief; but very soon shewas again seized by the most acute pangs. It seemed to her that she wasbound about with a buckler of iron, and frightened Dick rang for thelandlady. The worthy woman saw at a glance what was happening, and sent himoff, weary as he was, to fetch a doctor and the needful assistance. 

XXII

The doctor and nurse arrived almost simultaneously and passed into thesick-room, bidding Dick, who came running upstairs a moment after, be ofgood cheer. The mummer took his hat from his head and stood for a momentstaring vacantly at the bedroom door, as if striving to read there thesecrets of life, birth, and death. Then he remembered how tired he was, andwith a large movement of fatigue he sat down on the sofa. A gloomy yellowsky filled the room with an oppressive and mournful twilight, and torelieve his aching feet Dick had kicked off his shoes, and with his foldedarms pressed against his stomach he sat hour after hour, too hungry tosleep, listening to the low moaning that came through the chinks of thedoor. He appeared to be totally forgotten; voices whispered on thestaircase, people passed hurriedly through the sitting-room, but none askedhim if he wanted anything: no one even noticed him, and when the landladylighted the gas she uttered a cry of astonishment, as if she had discoveredan intruder in the room. 

'Oh, lawks! Mr. Lennox, we'd forgotten all about you, and you sittin' thereso quiet. But your wife is getting on nice; she has just had a cup ofbeef-tea: in about another couple of hours it will be all over. '

'Is she suffering much?'

'Well, sir, yes, I wouldn't consider it an easy confinement; but I think itwill be all right: you'll see your wife and child alive and well to-morrowmorning. '

Dick could not help doubting the truth of the woman's statement unless shecame to his assistance with food. Although almost starving, he was afraidto call for dinner lest she should ask him for some money in advance, butat that moment a cramp seized him, and turning pale he had to lean over thetable to suppress the moan which rose to his lips. 

'What's the matter, sir? You look quite ill, ' the woman asked. 

'Oh, 'twas only a sudden pain, ' Dick said, making an effort to recoverhimself. 'I've eaten nothing all day--have had no time, you know. '

'Then we shall have you laid up as well as your wife, and there's the legof mutton she ordered stewing away all these hours. I'm afraid you won't beable to eat it?'

Absurd as the question appeared to him, Dick answered adroitly:

'It will do very well, if you'll bring it up as soon as you can; I may haveto go out. '

This was intended as a ruse to deceive the landlady, for so tired was hethat had it been to save Kate's life he did not think he would have walkeddownstairs. He could think of nothing but putting something into hisstomach, and hard and dry as the mutton was it seemed to him the mostdelicious thing he had ever tasted. His pain melted away with the firstmouthful, and the glass of beer ran through and warmed his entire system. Down the great throat the victuals disappeared as if by magic, and theunceasing cry that seemed now to fill the entire house passed almostunheeded. 

For a moment he would listen pityingly, and then like an animal return tohis food. He cut slice after slice from the joint, and as his hunger seemedto grow upon him he thought he could finish it, and even longed to take thebone in his hand and pick it with his teeth; but he reasoned with himself;it would not do to let the landlady suspect they had no money, and as hegazed at the last potato, which he was afraid to eat, he considered what heshould say in apology for his appetite; but as he sought for a nice phrase, something pleasantly facetious, he remembered that he would have to findmoney and at once; he must have some no later than to-morrow. There were athousand things that would have to be paid for--the baby's clothes, thecradle, the--he tried to think of what was generally wanted under suchcircumstances, but the cries in the next room, which had gradually swelledinto shrieks, appalled him, and involuntarily the thought struck him thatthere might be a funeral to pay for as well as a birth. 

At that moment the bell tinkled, and the maid came running up. She carrieda jug of hot water and flannels in her hand, and pushing past him shedeclared that she hadn't a moment. The door of the bedroom was ajar; a fireburned, candles flared on the mantelpiece, a basin stood on the floor, andat times nothing was heard but a long moan, mingling with the murmuringvoices of the doctor and nurse. 

The room seemed like a sanctuary in which some mysterious rite was beingperformed. But suddenly the silence was broken by shrieks so passionate andacute that all the earlier ones were only remembered as feeblelamentations. 

Dick raised his big face from his hands, the movement threw back the massof frizzly hair, and in the intensity of this emotion he looked like alion. 

'Was this life, ' he asked himself, 'or death? And by whose order was ahuman creature tortured thus cruelly?' But the idea of God did not arresthis attention, and his thoughts fixing themselves on the child, he askedhimself, what was this new life to him?

'Oh, I never will again! Oh, how I hate him--I could kill him! I'll neverlove him, never no more. '

The cry touched the fat mummer through all the years of gross sensuality, through the indigestion of his big dinner, and, struck by the sense of herwords, he shuddered, remembering that it was he who was the cause of thisoutrageous suffering and not the innocent child. Was it possible, he askedhimself, that she would never love him again? He didn't know. Was itpossible that he was culpable? Strange notions respecting the origin, thescheme, the design of the universe, flashed in dim chiaro-oscuro throughhis thoughts, and for a full hour Dick pondered, philosopher-like, on theremote causes and the distant finalities of men and things. 

An hour full of moans and cries of suffering, then a great silence came, and the whole house seemed to sigh with a sense of relief. 

'The baby must be born, ' he said; and immediately after a little thin crywas heard, and in his heart it was prolonged like a note of gladness, andhis thoughts became paternal. 

He wondered if it were a girl or a boy; he fancied he'd like a girl best. If she were pretty, and had a bit of a voice, he'd be able to push her tothe front, whereas with a boy it would be more difficult. Relinquishing hisdreams at this point, Dick listened to the silence. He did not dare toknock at the door, but the murmur of satisfied voices assured him that allwas right. Still it was very odd that they did not come out and announcethe result to him. Did he count for nobody? Did they fancy that it wasnothing to him if his wife and child were dead or alive? The idea of beingthus completely unconsidered in an affair of such deep concern irritatedhim, and he walked towards the sofa to brood over his wrongs. Should he, orshould he not, knock at the door? At last he decided that he should, and, after a timid rap, tried the handle. He was immediately confronted by thenurse. 

'It's all right, sir; you shall come in in a moment when the baby iswashed. '

'Yes, but I want to know how my wife is. '

'She's doing very well, sir; you shall see her presently. '

The door was then gently but firmly closed, and Dick was kept waiting, andalmost collapsing he staggered into the room when the nurse called for himto come in. 

Kate lay amid the sheets pale and inert, her beautiful black hair making anink stain on the pillows. She stretched an exhausted hand to him, andlooked at him earnestly and affectionately. To both of them their livesseemed completed. 

'Oh, my darling, my darling!' he murmured; and his heart melted withhappiness at the faint pressure of fingers which he held within his. Thenurse standing by him held something red wrapped up in flannels. Hescarcely noticed it until he heard Kate say:

'It's a little girl. Kiss it, dear. '

He awkwardly touched with his lips the tiny whining mass of flesh the nurseheld forward, feeling, without knowing why, ashamed of himself. 

'Hearing that madam was taken all unexpected, I brought these flannels withme, ' said the large woman with the long-tailed cap; 'but to-morrow I canrecommend you, if you like, sir, to a shop where you can get everythingrequired. '

This speech brought Dick with a cruel jerk to the brink of the atrocioussituation in which he had so unexpectedly found himself. To-morrow he wouldhave to find money, and a great deal too. How he was going to do it he didnot know, but money would have to be found. 

'Yes, yes, I'll see to all that to-morrow, ' he said, awakening from hislethargy, like a jaded horse touched in some new place by the spur, 'butnow I'm so tired I can scarcely speak. '

'That's so, ' said the landlady. 'These walking tours is dreadful. He's beenover from Rochdale to-day, not counting the runnin' about he did after hiswife. You know they refused to take her in at number fifteen. But, sir, Idon't well know how we shall manage. I don't see how I'm to offer you abed. The best I can do for you is to make you up something on the sofa inthe parlour. '

'Oh, the sofa will do very well. I think I could sleep on the tiles; sogood-night, dear, ' he said as he leaned over and kissed his wife; 'I'msorry to leave you so soon. '

'It isn't a bit too soon, ' said the doctor. 'She must lie still and nottalk. '

On this Dick was led away. The nurse and doctor consulted by the bed wherethe woman would lie for days, too weak even to dream, while the man wentoff into the Manchester crowd to search for food. Beyond the bare idea of'going down to see what they were doing at the theatre, ' he had no plans. The scavenger dog that prowls about the gutter in search of offal could nothave less. But he felt sure that something would turn up; he was certain tomeet someone to whom he could sell a piano or for whom he could build atheatre. He never made plans. There was no use in making plans; they werealways upset by an accident. Far better, he thought, to trust to theinspiration of the moment; and when he awoke in the morning, heavy withsleep, he felt no trepidation, no fear beyond that of how he should get hissore feet into his shoes. It was only with a series of groans and cursesthat he succeeded in doing this, and the limps by which he proceeded downthe street were painful to watch. At the stage-door of the Theatre Royal aconciliatory tone of voice was mechanically assumed as he asked the porterif Mr. Jackson was in. But before the official could answer, Dick caughtsight of Mr. Jackson coming along the passage. 

'How do you do, old man? Haven't seen you for a long time. '

'What, you, Dick, in Manchester? Come and have a drink, old man. Very gladto see you. Stopping long here?'

'Well, I'm not quite decided. My wife was confined, you know, last night. '

'What! you a father, Dick?'

Mr. Jackson leered, poked him in the ribs, and commenced a list ofanecdotes. To these Dick had to listen, and in the hopes of catching hisfriend in an unwary moment of good-humour, he laughed heartily at all thebest points. But digressive as conversation is in which women areconcerned, sooner or later a reference is made to the cost and the worth, and at last Mr. Jackson was incautious enough to say:

'Very expensive those affairs are, to be sure. '

This was the chance that Dick was waiting for, and immediately buttonholinghis friend, he said:

'You're quite right, they are: and to tell you the truth, old man, I'm inthe most devilish awkward position I ever was in my life. You heard aboutthe breaking up of Morton and Cox's company? Well, that left me stranded. '

At the first words gaiety disappeared from Mr. Jackson's face, and duringDick's narrative of the tour in Lancashire he made many ineffectualwriggles to get away. Dick judged from these well-known indications that toborrow money might be attended with failure, and after a patheticdescription of his poverty he concluded with:

'So now, my dear fellow, you must find something for me to do. It does notmatter what--something temporary until I can find something better, youknow. '

It was difficult to resist this appeal, and after a moment's reflection Mr. Jackson said:

'Well, you know we're all made up here. There's a small part in the newdrama to be produced next week; I wouldn't like to offer it as it is, but Imight get the author to write it up. '

'It will do first rate. I'm sure to be able to make something of it. What'sthe screw?'

'That's just the point. We can't afford to pay much for it; our salary listis too big as it is. '

'What did you intend giving for it?'

'Well, we meant to give it to a super, but for you I can have it writtenup. What do you say to two-ten?'

Dick thought it would be judicious to pause, and after a short silence hesaid:

'I've had, as you know, bigger things to do; but I'm awfully obliged toyou, old pal. You're doing me a good turn that I shan't forget; we canconsider the matter as settled. '

This was a stroke of luck, and Dick congratulated himself warmly, until heremembered that £2 10s. At the end of next week did not put a farthinginto his present pocket. Money he would have to find that day, how he didnot know. He called upon everybody he had ever heard of; he visited all thetheatres and ball-rooms, drank interminable drinks, listened to endlessstories, and when questioned as to what he was doing himself, grewdelightfully mendacious, and, upon the slight basis of his engagement forthe new drama at the Royal, constructed a fabulous scheme for theproduction of new pieces. In this way the afternoon went by, and he wasbeginning to give up hopes of turning over any money that day, when he meta dramatic author. After the usual salutations--'How do you do, old boy?How's business?' etc. --had been exchanged, the young man said:

'Had a bit of luck; just sold my piece--you know the drama I read you, theone in which the mother saves her child from the burning house?'

'How much did you get?'

'Seventy-five pound down, and two pounds a night. '

At the idea of so much money Dick's eyes glistened, and he immediatelyproceeded to unfold a scheme he had been meditating for some time back forthe building of a new theatre. The author listened attentively, and afterhaving dangled about the lamp-post for half an hour, they mutually agreedto eat a bit of dinner together and afterwards go home and read another newpiece that was, so said the fortunate author, a clinker. No better excusethan his wife's confinement could be found for fixing the meeting hour atthe young man's lodging, and in the enthusiasm which the reading of theacts engendered, it was easy for Dick to ask for, and difficult for hisfriend to refuse, a cheque for £15. 

XXIII

In about a week Kate was sufficiently restored to sit up in bed. Her veryweakness and lassitude were a source of happiness; for, after long monthsof turmoil and racket, it was pleasant to lie in the covertures, and sufferher thoughts to rise out of unconsciousness or sink back into it without aneffort. And these twilight trances flowed imperceptibly into anotherperiod, when with coming strength a feverish love awoke in her for thelittle baby girl who lay sleeping by her side. And for hours in thereposing obscurity of the drawn curtains mother and child would remainhushed in one long warm embrace. To see, to feel, this little life movingagainst her side was enough. She didn't look into the future, nor did shethink of what fate the years held in store for her daughter, but content, lost in emotive contemplation, she watched the blind movements of hands andthe vague staring of blue eyes. This puling pulp that was more intimatelyand intensely herself than herself developed strange yearnings in her, andshe often trembled with pride in being the instrument through which so muchmystery was worked; to talk to herself of the dark dawn of creation, and ofthe day sweet with maternal love that lay beyond, was a great source ofjoy; to hear the large, hobbling woman tell of the different babies she hadsuccessfully started that year on their worldly pilgrimage never seemed toweary her. She interested herself in each special case, and when the nursetold her she must talk no more she lay back to dream of the great boy withthe black eyes who had so nearly been the death of his little flaxen hairedmother. 

She felt great interest in this infant, who, if he went on growing at thepresent rate, it was prophesied would be in twenty years' time the biggestman in Manchester. But the nurse admitted that all the children were not sostrong and healthy. Indeed, it was only last week that a little baby shehad brought into the world perfectly safely had died within a few days ofits birth, for no cause that anyone could discover; it had wilted andpassed away like a flower. The tears rolled down Kate's cheeks as shelistened, and she pressed her own against her breast and insisted onsuckling her infant although expressly forbidden to do so by the doctor. 

These days were the best of her life. She felt more at peace with theworld, she placed more confidence in her husband than she had ever donebefore; and when he came in of an afternoon and sat by her side and talkedof herself and of their little baby, softened in all the intimate fibres ofher sex, she laid her hand in his, and sighed for sheer joy. The purpose ofher life seemed now to show a definite sign of accomplishment. 

The only drawback to their happiness was their poverty. The fifteen poundsof borrowed money had gone through their hands like water, and God knowswhat would have become of them if Dick had not been fortunate to makeanother tenner by looking after a piece given at a morning performance. What with the doctor's bills, the nurse's wages, the baby's clothes, theywere for ever breaking into their last sovereign. Dick spoke of theirdifficulties with reluctance, not wishing to distress her, but he felt hemust rouse her out of the apathy into which she had fallen, and he beggedof her to take the next engagement he could find for her. It seemed to himthat she was now quite well, but when he pressed for a promise the firsttime she answered: 'Yes, Dick, I should like to get to work again, ' butwhen he came to her with a proposal of work, she was quick to find excuses. The baby was foremost among them; she did not like to put the child out tonurse. 'If the child were to die, I should never forgive myself, ' she wouldsay. 'Don't ask me, Dick, don't ask me. '

'But, Kate, we cannot go on living here on nothing. We owe the landlady forthree weeks. '

At these words Kate would burst into tears, and when he succeeded inconsoling her she would remind him that if she went back to work before shewas quite well she might be laid up for a long time, which would be muchworse than the loss of a miserable three or four pounds a week. To convinceDick completely she would remind him that as she had been playing leadingparts it would not be wise to accept the first thing she could get. 'If onelets oneself down, Dick, in the profession, it's difficult to get upagain. '

'Well, dear, ' Dick would answer, 'I must try and find something to domyself. You shall not be asked again to go back to work until you feel likeit. When you come to tell me that you're tired of staying at home. 

'Don't speak like that, Dick, for it seems as if you were laying blame uponme, and I'm not to blame. You will be able to judge for yourself when I'mfit to go back to work, and one of these days you will come with the newsof a leading part. '

Accompanying him to the door she said she would like to return to the stagein a leading part, but not in any of the parts she had already played in, but in something new. These objections and excuses brought a cloud intoDick's face which she did not notice, but when he had gone she would beginto think of his kindness towards her and of what she could do to rewardhim. His shirts wanted mending, and as soon as they were mended she madehoods and shoes for the baby. 

In many little ways the old life that she thought she had left behind inHanley began to reappear, and when Dick came into the room and found herreading a novel by the fire she reminded him of Ralph's wife rather than ofhis own. 

While she was touring in the country she had given up reading without beingaware that she had done so. She had once bought a copy of the _FamilyHerald_, hoping that it would help away the time on the long railwayjourney, but having herself come into a life of passion, energy andinfinite variety, she could not follow with any interest the story of threeyoung ladies in reduced circumstances who had started a dressmakingbusiness and who were destined clearly to marry the men they loved and wholoved them and who would continue to love them long after the silverthreads had appeared among the gold. But now in the long lonely days spentwith her baby in the lodging (Dick went away early in the morning andsometimes did not return till twelve o'clock at night), a story in a copyof _The Family Herald_ lent to her by the landlady, on the whole a very kindand patient soul, took hold of Kate's imagination, and when she raised hereyes a tear of joy fell upon the page, and in the effusion of thesesensations she would take her little girl and press it almost wildly to herbreast. 

Before leaving, the nurse had given Kate many directions. The baby was tohave its bath in the morning; to be kept thoroughly clean, and to be giventhe bottle at certain times during the day and night. Kate was devoted toher child, but the attention she gave it was unsustained, a desultoryattention. Sometimes she put too much water in the milk, sometimes toolittle. 

The christening had awakened in her many forgotten emotions, and now thatshe was an honest married woman, she did not see why she should not resumeher old church-going ways. The story she was reading was full of allusionsto the vanity of this world and the durability of the next; and her feet onthe fender, penetrated with the dreamy warmth of the fire, she abandonedherself to the seduction of her reveries. Everything conspired against her. Being still very weak the doctor had ordered her to keep up her strengthwith stimulants; a table-spoonful of brandy and water taken now and thenwas what was required. This was the ordinance, but the drinks in thedressing-rooms had taught her the comforts of such medicines, and duringthe day several glasses were consumed. Without getting absolutely drunk, she rapidly sank into sensations of numbness, in which all distinctionswere blurred, and thoughts trickled and slipped away like the soothingsinging of a brook. It was like an amorous tickling, and as her dreamsbalanced between a tender declaration of love and the austere language ofthe Testament, the crying of the sick child was unheeded. 

Once Kate did not hear it for hours; she did not know she had forgotten towarm its milk, and that the poor little thing was shivering with cold pain. And when at last she awoke, and went over to the cot trying to collect herdrink-laden thoughts, the little legs were drawn up, the face was likeivory, and a long thin wail issued from the colourless lips. Alarmed, Katecalled for the landlady, who, after feeling the bottle, advised that themilk should be warmed. When this was done the child took a little andappeared relieved. 

Shortly after a bell was heard ringing, and the landlady said:

'I think it's your husband, ma'am. '

It was usual for Dick, when he came in at night, to tell what Kate termed'the news. ' It amused her to hear what had been done at the theatre, whatfresh companies had come to town. On this occasion it surprised him thatshe took so little interest in the conversation, and after hazarding a fewremarks, he said:

'But what's the matter, dear? Aren't you well?'

'Oh yes, I'm quite well, ' Kate answered stolidly. 

'Well, what's the matter? You don't speak. '

'I'm tired, that's all. '

'And how's the baby?'

'I think she's asleep; don't wake her. '

But Dick went over, and holding a candle in one hand he looked long andanxiously at his child. 

'I'm afraid the little thing is not well; she's fidgeting, and is asrestless as possible. '

'I wish you'd leave her alone; if she awakes, it's I who will have thetrouble of her, not you. It's very unkind of you. '

Dick looked at his wife and said nothing; but as she continued to speak, the evidences of drink became so unmistakable that he said, trying not tooffend her:

'I'm afraid you've been drinking a little too much of the brandy the doctorordered you. '

At this accusation, Kate drew herself up and angrily denied having toucheda drop of anything that day. 

'How dare you accuse me of being drunk? You ought to respect me more. '

'Drunk, Kate? I never said you were drunk, but I thought you might havetaken an overdose. '

'I suppose you'll believe me when I tell you that I've not had ateaspoonful of anything. '

'Of course I believe you, dear, ' said Dick, who did not like to think thatKate was telling him a deliberate lie, and to avoid further discussion hesuggested bed. Kate did not answer him, and he heard her trying to getundressed, and wondering at her clumsiness he asked himself if he shouldpropose to unlace her stays for her. But he was afraid of irritating her, and thought it would be better to leave her alone to undo the knot as bestshe could. She tugged at the laces furiously, and thinking she might breakthem and accuse him of unwillingness to come to her assistance, he said, 'Shall I----'

But she cut him short. 'Let me alone, let me alone!' she cried, and Dickkicked off his shoes. 

'How can you be so unkind, or is it that you've no thought for that poorsick child?' she said; and Dick answered:

'I assure you, my dear, it couldn't be helped; the shoe slipped offunexpectedly, ' and as if the world had set its face against her, Kate burstinto tears. At first Dick tried to console her, but seeing that this washopeless, he turned his face to the wall and went to sleep. 

She had not drawn the curtains of the window, and the outlines of the roomshowing through the blue dusk frightened her, so ghostlike did they appear. The cradle stood under the window, the child's face just visible on thepallor of the pillow. 'Baby is asleep, ' she said; 'that's a good sign, ' andwatched the cradle, trying to remember how long it was since baby had hadher bottle; and while wondering if she could trust herself to wake whenbaby cried she began to notice that the room was becoming lighter. 'Itcannot be the dawn, ' she thought; 'the dawn is hours away; we're inDecember. Besides, the dawn is grey, and the light is green, a sort ofpantomime light, ' she said. It seemed to her very like a fairy tale. Thegiant snoring, and her baby stirring in her cradle with the limelight uponher, or was she dreaming? It might be a dream out of which she could notrouse herself. But the noise she heard was Dick's breathing, and she wishedthat Ralph would breathe more easily. Ralph, Ralph! No, she was with Dick. Dick, not Ralph, was her husband. It was with a great effort that sheroused herself. 'It was only a dream' she murmured. 'But baby is crying. Her cry is so faint, ' she said; and, slinging her legs over the side of thebed, she tried to find her dressing-gown, but could not remember where shehad laid it 'Baby wants her bottle, ' she said, and sought for the matchesvainly at first, but at last she found them, and lighted a spirit lamp. 'One must get the water warmed, cold milk would kill her;' and while thewater was heating she walked up and down the room rocking her baby, talkingto her, striving to quiet her; and when she thought the water was warm shetried to prepare baby's milk as the doctor had ordered it. Her hope wasthat she had succeeded in mixing the milk and water in right proportions, for the last time she had given the baby her bottle she was afraid thewater was not warm enough. Perhaps that was why baby was crying, or itmight be merely a little wind that was troubling her. She held the babyupright, hoping that the pain would pass away with a change of position, and she walked up and down the room rocking the child in her arms andcrooning to her for fully half an hour. At last the child ceased to wail, and she laid her in her cradle and sat watching, thinking that if she wereto lose her baby she must go mad.... She had lost Dick's love, and if thebaby were taken away there would be nothing left for her to live for. 'Nothing left for me to live for, ' she repeated again and again, till thecold winter's night striking through her nightgown reminded her that shewas risking her life, which she had no right to do, for baby needed her. 'Who would look after poor baby if I were taken away?' she asked, andshaking with cold, was about to crawl into bed; but on laying her knee onthe bedside she remembered that a little spirit often saved a human life;and going to the chest of drawers took out the bottle she had hidden fromDick and filled a glass. 

The spirit diffused a grateful warmth through her, and she drank a secondglass slowly, thinking of her child and husband, and how good she intendedto be to both of them, until ideas became broken, and she tumbled into bed, awaking Dick, who was soon asleep again, with Kate by his side watching arim of light rising above a dark chimney stack and wondering what new showsmust be preparing. Already the rim of light had become a crescent, andbefore her eyes closed in sleep the full moon looked down through thewindow into the cradle, waking the sleeping child. But her cries were tooweak; her mother lay in sleep beyond reach of her wails, heart-breakingthough they were. The little blankets were cast aside, and the strugglebetween life and death began: soft roundnesses fell into distortions;chubby knees were wrenched to and fro, muscles seemed to be torn, and a fewminutes later little Kate, who had known of this world but a ray ofmoonlight, died--a glimpse of the moon was all that had been granted toher. After watching for an hour or more, the moon moved up the skies; andin Kate's dream the moon was the great yellow witch in the pantomime, who, before striding her broomstick, cries back: 'Thou art mine only, for everand for ever!'

XXIV

The passing of a funeral in our English streets is so common a sight thathearses and plumes and mutes and carriages filled with relatives garbed incrape have almost ceased to remind us that our dust too is on the way tothe graveyard; and it is not until we catch sight of a man walking in thecarriage way carrying a brown box under his arm that we start like someonesuddenly stung and remember the mystery of life and death. Even Dickremembered it, and wondered as he plodded after little Kate's coffin why itwas that she should have been called out of the void and called back intothe void so quickly. 'Whether our term be but a month or ninety years, lifeand death beckon us but once, ' he said, and he fell to envying Kate hertears, tears seeming to him more comforting than thoughts, and he wouldgladly have shed a few to help the journey away: not a long one, however, for the Lennoxes lived in an unfrequented part of the town by the cemetery. 

'We shall soon be there, ' he whispered, and Kate, raising her weeping face, looked round. 

All the shops were filled with funeral emblems, wreaths of everlastingflowers, headstones with dates in indelible ink, crosses of consolation, and kneeling angels. 

'If we only had money, ' Kate cried, 'to buy a monument to put on hergrave, ' and she called upon Dick to admire a kneeling angel. 

'It's very beautiful, ' Dick said, 'I wish we had the money to buy it. Poorlittle Kate! it's a pity she didn't live; she was very like you, dear. '

He had been offered an engagement for Kate to play the part of the Countessin _Olivette_, and had accepted it, hoping in the meanwhile to be ableto persuade her to take it. It was rather hard to ask her to play the dayafter the funeral, but there was no help for it. The company would arrivein town to-morrow, and Dick thought it would be a pity to let the chanceslip. But her grief was so great that he had not dared to speak to herabout it. 

'Did you ever see so many graves?' she asked. 'We shall never be able tofind her when we come to seek the grave out. An angel--a headstone, atleast, would be a help. Oh, Dick, she continued, 'to think they'll put herdown into the ground, and that we shall perhaps never even see her graveagain. We may be a hundred miles from here tomorrow, or after. '

Dick, who had had credit of the undertaker, looked around uneasily; butseeing that Kate had not been overheard, he said:

'Poor little thing! It's sad to lose her, isn't it? I should have liked tohave seen her grow up. '

The coffin was first deposited in the middle of the church, and Dicktwisted the brim of his big hat nervously, troubled by the service theparson in a white flowing surplice read from the reading-desk. Kate, on thecontrary, appeared much consoled, and prayed silently, and the parsonmumbled so many prayers that Dick began to consider the time it would taketo learn a part of equal length. And all this while the little brown boxremained like a piece of lost luggage, lonely in the greyness of thisstation-house-looking church; and when the mutes came to claim it Kateagain burst into tears. Her tears reminded the parson that he was here toconsole, and in soft and unctuous words he assured the weeping mother thather child had only been removed to a better and brighter world, and that wemust all submit to the will of God. But in the porch his attention wasdrawn from the weeping mother to the weather. 'A little more of this' hethought, 'and others will be doing for me what I'm now doing for others. '

But there being no help for it, he followed the procession through thetombstones, his white surplice blowing, Dick wondering how the little gravehad been found amongst so many, but the sexton knew. The parson sprinkledearth upon the coffin, and the sound of the withdrawn ropes cut themother's heart even more than the rattle of the earth and stones on thecoffin lid. Kate threw some flowers into the grave, and it seemed to Dickcertain that if she didn't pull herself together she would not be able toplay the Countess in _Olivette_ on the morrow. She was so fearfullyhaggard and worn that he doubted if any amount of rouge would make her lookthe part. 

He would have done anything in the world for his little girl while she wasalive, but now that she was dead--Besides, after all, she was only a baby. For some time past this idea had occurred to him as an excellent argumentto convince Kate that there was really no reason why she should not go torehearsal on the following morning. If he had not yet spoken in this way itwas only because he was afraid that she would round on him, and call him aheartless beast, and he would do anything to evade a sulky look; and now, when the funeral was over and they were walking home wet, sorrowful, andtired, it was curious to watch how he gave his arm to Kate, and thetimidity with which he introduced the subject. At first he only spoke ofhimself, and his hopes of being able to obtain a better part and a highersalary in the new drama. But mention to a mummer who is lying on hisdeath-bed that a new piece is going to be produced, and he will not be ableto resist asking a question or two about it; and Kate, weary as she was, atonce pricked up her ears, and said:

'Oh, they're going to do a new piece! You didn't tell me that before. '

'It was only decided last night, ' replied Dick. 

The spell was now broken, and when they reached home and had dinner theconversation was resumed in a strain that might be considered as beingalmost jovial after the mournful tones of the last few days. Dick felt asif a big weight had been lifted from his mind, and the thought againoccurred to him that there was no use in making such a fuss over a babythat was only three weeks old. Kate, too, seemed to be awakening to theconviction that there was no use in grieving for ever. The state of torporshe had been living in--for to stifle remorse she had been drinking heavilyon the quiet--now began to wear off, and her brain to uncloud itself; andDick, surprised at the transformation, could not help exclaiming:

'That's right, Kate; cheer up, old girl. A baby three weeks old isn't thesame as a grown person. '

'I know it isn't, but if you only knew--I'm afraid I neglected the poorlittle thing. '

'Nonsense!' replied Dick, for having an eye constantly on the main chance, he wished to avoid any fresh outburst of grief. 'You looked after it verywell indeed; besides, you'll have another, ' he added with a smile. 

'I want no other, ' replied Kate, vexed at being misunderstood, and yetafraid to explain herself more thoroughly. 

At last Dick said:

'I wish there was a part for you in the new piece. '

'Yes, so do I. I haven't been doing anything for a long while now. '

And thus encouraged he told her that in the so-and-so company the part ofthe Countess might be had for the asking. 

'Only they play to-morrow night. '

'Oh, to-morrow night! It would be dreadful to act so soon after my poorbaby's death, wouldn't it?'

'I can't see why. We shall be as sorry for it in a week's time as now, andyet one must get to work some time or other. '

Dick considered this a very telling argument, and, not wishing to spoil itseffect, he remained silent, so as to give Kate time to digest the truth ofwhat he had said. He waited for her to ask him when he would take her tosee the manager, but she said nothing, and he was at last obliged to admitthat he had made an appointment for to-morrow. She whined a bit butaccompanied him to the theatre. The manager was delighted with herappearance. He told her that the photo that Dick had forwarded did not doher justice; and, handing her the script, he said:

'Now you must make your entrance from this side. '

'What's the cue?'

'Here it is. I think I shall now beat a retreat in the direction of home. '

'Ah! I see. '

And, striving to decipher the manuscript, Kate walked towards the middle ofthe stage. 'I haven't seen the Duke for twenty-four hours, and that meansmisery. '

'You'll get a laugh for that if you'll turn up your eyes a bit, ' said Dick. Then, turning to the manager, he murmured, 'I wish you'd seen her asClairette. The notices were immense. But I must be off now to my own show. '

This engagement relieved the Lennoxes for the time being of theirembarrassments. At four they dined, at six bade each other good-bye, andrepaired to their respective theatres. Dick was playing in drama, Kate in_opéra bouffe_; and something before a quarter to eleven she expectedhim to meet her at the stage-door of the Prince's. On this point she wasvery particular; if he were a few moments late she questioned him minutelyas to where he had been, what he had been doing, and little by little thejealousies and suspicions which her marriage had appeased returned, andtortured her night and day. At first the approach of pain was manifested bya nervous anxiety for her husband's presence. She seemed dissatisfied andrestless when he was not with her, and after breakfast in the mornings, when he took up his hat to go out, she would beg of him to stay, and findfault with him for leaving her. He reasoned with her very softly, assuringher that he had the most important engagements. On one occasion it was aman who had given him an appointment in order to speak with him concerninga new theatre, of which he was to have the entire management; another timeit was a man who was writing a drama, and wanted a collaborator to put thestage construction right; and as these séances of collaboration occupiedboth morning and afternoon, Kate was thrown entirely on her own resourcesuntil four o'clock. The first two or three novels she had read during herconvalescence had amused her, but now one seemed so much like the otherthat they ended by boring her; and, too excited to be able to fix herattention, she often read without understanding what she was reading: onone side the memory of her baby's death preyed upon her--she still couldnot help thinking that it was owing to her neglect that it had died--on theother, the thought that her husband was playing her false goaded her tomadness. Sometimes she attempted to follow him, but this only resulted infailure, and she returned home after a fruitless chase more dejected thanever. 

'Ah! if the baby had not died, there would have been something to livefor, ' she murmured to herself a thousand times during the day, until atlast her burden of remorse grew quite unbearable, and she thought of thebrandy the doctor had ordered her. Since her engagement to play theCountess she had forgotten it, but now a strange desire seized her suddenlyas if she had been stung by a snake. There was only a little left in thebottle, but that little cheered and restored her even more than she hadexpected. Her thoughts came to her more fluently, she ate a better dinner, and acted joyously that night at the theatre. 'There's no doubt, ' she saidto her self, 'the doctor was right. What I want is a little stimulant. ' Ofthe truth of this she was more than ever convinced when next morning shefound herself again suffering from the usual melancholy and dulness ofspirits. The very sight of breakfast disgusted her, and when Dick left shewandered about the room, unable to interest herself in anything, with ayearning in her throat for the tingling sensation that brandy would bring;and she longed for yesterday's lightness of conscience. But there wasneither brandy nor whisky in the house, not even a glass of sherry. Whatwas to be done? She did not like to ask the landlady to go round to thepublic-house. Such people were always ready to put a wrong interpretationupon everything. But Mrs. Clarke knew that the doctor had ordered her totake a little brandy when she felt weak. All the same, she determined towait until dinner-time. 

Half an hour of misery passed, and then, excited till she could bear withthe craving for drink no longer, she remembered that it would be veryfoolish to risk her health for the sake of a prejudice. To obey thedoctor's orders was her first duty--a consoling reflection that relievedher mind of much uncertainty; and ringing the bell, she prepared her littlespeech. 

'Oh! Mrs. Clarke, I'm sorry to trouble you, but--I'm feeling so weak thismorning--and, if you remember, the doctor ordered me to take a littlebrandy when I felt I wanted it. Do you happen to have any in the house?'

'No, ma'am, I haven't, but I can send out for it in a minute. And you dolook as if you wanted something to pick you up. '

'Yes, ' said Kate, throwing as much weakness as she could into her voice, 'somehow I've never felt the same since my confinement. '

'Ah! I know well how it pulls one down. If you only knew how I sufferedwith my third baby!'

'I can well imagine it. '

The conversation then came to a pause, and Mrs. Clarke, not seeing her wayto any further family confidences, said:

'What shall I send for, ma'am--half a pint? The grocer round the cornerkeeps some very nice brandy. '

'Yes, that will do, ' said Kate, seeing an unending perspective of drinks inhalf a pint. 

'Shall I put that down in the bill, or will you give me the money now, ma'am?'

This was very awkward, for Kate suddenly remembered that she had given overher salary to Dick this week without keeping anything out of it. There wasno help for it now, and putting as bold a face on it as she could, she toldMrs. Clarke to book it. What did it matter whether Dick saw it or not? Hadnot the doctor told her she required a little stimulant?

Henceforth brandy-drinking became an established part of Kate's morninghours. Even before Dick was out of bed she would invent a pretext forstealing into the next room so that she might have a nip on the sly beforebreakfast. The bottle, and a packet of sweetstuff to take the smell off hermouth, were kept behind a large oleograph representing Swiss scenery. Thefear that Dick might pop out upon her at any moment often nearly caused herto spill the liquor over the place; but existence was impossible withoutbrandy, and she felt she was bound to get rid of the miserable moods ofmind to which she woke. Before eleven o'clock Dick was out of the house, and this left Kate four hours of lonely idleness staring her blankly in theface. Sometimes she practised a little music, but it wearied her. She hadcourage for nothing now, and brandy and water was the only thing thatkilled the dreariness that ached in heart and head. Many half-pint bottleshad succeeded the first, and, ashamed to admit her secret drinking, she nowpaid the landlady regularly out of her own money. When funds were low, alittle bill was run up, and this was produced and talked over when the twowomen were having a glass together of a morning. To pay these debts Katehad to resort to lying. All kinds of lies had to be concocted. Her firstidea was to tell Dick she intended to continue her music lessons. He wouldnever, she was sure, ask her a question on the subject; but Dick, who wasstill hard pressed for money, begged of her to wait until they were betteroff before incurring new expenses, and, annoyed, she fell back on thesubject of clothes, and when he asked her if she could not manage to go onwith what she had for a bit, it astonished him to see the mad rage intowhich she fell instantly. Was it not her own money? Had she not earned it, and was he going to rob her of it? Did he only keep her to work for him? Ifso, she'd very soon put that to rights by chucking up her engagement; thenhe would be forced to keep her; she wasn't going to be bullied. In hisusual kind way Dick tried to calm her, explaining to her their position, telling her of his projects; but the fear of discovery was a fixed thoughtin her mind, and she refused to listen to reason until he put his hand inhis pocket and gave her two pounds ten. This was just the sum required topay what she owed at the Ayre Arms. And seeing her difficulties removed, her better nature asserted itself. She begged of Dick to forgive her, pleading that she had lost her temper, and didn't know what she was saying. For an instant she thought of confessing the truth, then the idea died in aresolution to amend. It was not worth speaking of; she was gettingstronger, and would soon need no more stimulants. 

For two days Kate kept to her promise; instead of sitting at home, shecalled on one of the ladies of the theatre, and passed a pleasant morningwith her. She paid visits to other members of the company, and went outshopping with them. But when three or four met at the corner of a street, after a few introductory remarks, a drink was generally proposed--not asmen would propose it, but slyly, and with much affectation; and skirtingfurtively along the streets, a quiet bar would be selected, and then, 'Whatwill you have, dear?' would be whispered softly. 'A drop of gin, dear. ' Onone of these occasions Kate only just escaped getting drunk. As luck wouldhave it, Dick did not return home to dinner, and a good sleep and a bottleof soda-water pulled her together, so that she was able to go down to thetheatre and play her part without exciting observation. And this decidedher not to trust herself again to the temptation of her girl friends. Sheasked Dick to allow her to accompany him sometimes. He made a wry face atthis proposal, hesitated, and explained that his collaborator suffered noone to interrupt their séances; he was a timid man, and couldn't work inthe presence of a third person. Kate only sighed, but although she did notattempt to dispute the veracity of this statement, she felt that it wascruel that she should be left alone hour after hour. But she deceivedherself with resolutions and hopes that she would require no more brandy. In her heart of hearts she knew that she would not be able to resist, and, docile as the sheep under the butcher's hand, she recognized her fate, andaccepted it. A fresh bill was run up at the grocer's, and the mornings werepassed in a state of torpor. Without getting absolutely drunk, she dranksufficiently to confuse her thoughts, to reduce them to a sort of nebulae, enough to blend and soften the lines of a too hard reality to a longsensation of tickling, in which no idea was precise, no desire remainedlong enough to grow to a pain, but caressed and passed away. Sometimes, ofcourse, she overdosed herself, but on these occasions, when she foundconsciousness slipping a little too rapidly from her, she was cunningenough to go and lie down. And living, as she did, in constant fear ofdetection, she endowed the simplest words and looks with a double meaning, and she could not help hating Dick if he asked her questions or dared toaccuse her of being sleepy and heavy about the eyes. Did he intend toinsult her--was that it? If so, she wasn't going to stand it. One day hestood before the oleograph, apparently examining with deep interest thedifferent aspects of the Swiss scenery. In reality, his thoughts were faraway, but Kate, who did not know this, grew so nervous and angry, that itwas with difficulty she kept calm. 

On half a dozen different pretexts she had tried to get him away from thepicture, and fearing every moment that he would look behind it or touch it, she caught up a plate from the table and dashed it to the ground. The crashcaused Dick to jump round, and she began her tirade, beginning with thequestion, was she so utterly beneath his notice that he couldn't answer aquestion? Almost every day a dispute of this sort arose: she was alwaysbeing poked up by some new fear of discovery, and engendered, if nothatred, a fierce resentment; and to deceive herself as to the true reasonshe criticized his conduct and manner of life bitterly and passionatelyfrom every point of view. Jealousy was natural to her, and she was moresubject than ever to attacks of it. Once or twice it had blazed into flame, but circumstances had quenched it for the time being. Now there was nothingto oppose it, and all things served as fuel. 

She was conscious of no wrongdoing, she believed, and believed sincerely, that she was acting legitimately in defence of her own interests. She wascertain that Dick was deceiving her, and the want of moral courage in theman, which forced him to tell lies--lies in which he was sometimes foundout--tended to confirm her in this belief. For a few days past she had beenpreparing for a quarrel, but the time for fight had not yet come, and shechafed under the delay. At last her chance came. He kept her waiting halfan hour at the stage-door. Where had he been? What had he been doing allthis while? were the questions she put to him in many different forms asthey walked home. He sought to pacify his wife, assuring her he had beendetained by his manager, who wanted to speak with him concerning a newproduction; he told a long story regarding the arrangement of some of theprocessions. But Kate would not accept any of these excuses, and, convincedhe had been after a woman, she stuck to her opinion, and the bickeringcontinued for an hour or more, to end as it had begun. These suddensilences were very welcome, for Dick had many things to think out; andnothing more was said until they got up to their room, and then Dick, asusual, forgetful of even the immediate past, began to speak of hismanager's intentions regarding a new piece. But he did not get far beforehe was brought to a sudden standstill by a fresh explosion of wrath. 

'What have I done now?' he asked. 

'Done! Do you suppose I want to hear about that woman?'

'What woman!'

'Oh! you needn't do the innocent with me!'

'Really! I give you my word----'

'Your word! a nice thing, indeed!'

'Well, what do you want me to do?'

'To leave me in peace, ' said Kate, breaking the string of her stays. 

Dick was very tired, and, without attempting to argue the point further, undressed and got into bed. In bed the quarrel was resumed; it wascontinued, and for an hour or more, he lying with his head turned close tothe wall, hers dancing over the extreme edge of the pillow. 

'Why don't you go away and leave me? I cannot think how you can be socruel, and to me, who gave up everything for you!'

It was the wail of petulant anger; but as yet she showed no violence, andher temper did not overcome her until her husband, worn out by two hours ofunceasing lamentations, begged of her to allow him to go to sleep. Her moodwas different in the morning, and it was not until she had paid a couple ofvisits to the blue Swiss mountains that she became again taciturn. Dick didnot as yet suspect his wife of confirmed drunkenness; he merely thoughtthat she had grown lately very ill-tempered, and that a jealous woman wasabout the most distressing thing in existence; and, anxious to avoidanother scene, he hurried through his breakfast. She watched him eating insilence, knowing well he was counting the minutes till he could get away. At last she said:

'Will you take me to church to-day?'

'My dear, I'm afraid I've an appointment, but I'll try to come back if Ican, ' and a few minutes later he slipped away, leaving her to invite thelandlady to come up and have a glass with her if she felt so inclined. Butfeeling somewhat out of humour for the conversation of that respectablewoman, she put on her hat and ran after her husband, determined to watchhim. But he was already out of sight, and after roaming aimlessly about forsome time she turned into a church, and sat through the whole of theservice without once attempting to fix her attention on what was going on;her thoughts were on Dick, but to stand and to kneel was in itself arelief, and when church was over she returned home, after visiting severalpublic houses, slightly boozed. 

'Mrs. Clarke, has my husband come in?'

'I haven't heard him, Mrs. Lennox, ' was the answer that came up the kitchenstairs. 

This was unfortunate, for her heart that had been softening towards himtightened into bitterness, and madness was near the thought that at themoment she was patiently waiting dinner for him he might be in the arms ofanother woman. She told the landlady, who came upstairs a second time inhope of a sociable glass, that she might bring the soup up (they always hadsoup on Sundays); if Mr. Lennox didn't choose to come in for his meals hemight go without them. At that moment a ring at the door was heard, and, throwing himself in an armchair, Dick said he was tired. 

'I dare say you are; I can easily understand that, ' was the curt reply. 

An expression of pain passed over his face. 

'Goodness me, Kate!' he said in a perplexed voice. 'You don't mean to sayyou're angry still!'

No attention was paid to the landlady, who was placing the soup on thetable, and she, being pretty well accustomed to their quarrels, said withan air of indifference as she left the room:

'Dinner is served. I shall bring the leg of mutton up when you ring. '

No answer was made to her, and the couple sat moodily looking at eachother. After a pause Dick tried to be conciliatory, and in the mostaffectionate phrases he could select he besought Kate to make it up. 

'I assure you, you're wrong, ' he said. 'I've been after no woman. Do, forgoodness' sake, make it up. '

Then approaching her chair, he tried to draw her toward him, but pullingherself away passionately, she exclaimed:

'No, no; leave me alone--leave me alone--don't touch me--I hate you. '

This was not encouraging, but at the end of another silence he attempted toreason with her again. But it was useless; and worn and impatient he beggedof her at least to come to dinner. 

'If you aren't hungry, I am. '

There was no answer; lying back in her chair she sulked, deaf to allentreaty. 

'Well, if you won't, I will, ' he said, seating himself in her place. 

Her eyes flashed with a dull lurid light, and walking close to the table, she looked at him steadily, fidgeting as she did so with the knives andglasses. 

'I can't think how you treat me as you do; what have I done to you todeserve it? Nothing. But I shall be revenged, that I will; I can bear it nolonger. '

'Bear what?' he asked despairingly. 

'You know well enough. Don't aggravate me. I hate you! Oh yes, ' she said, raising her voice, 'I do hate you!'

'Sit down and have some dinner, and don't be so foolish, ' he said, tryingto be jocular, as he lifted the cover from the soup. 

'Eat with you? Never!' she answered theatrically. But the interest heshowed in the steaming liquid annoyed her so much that, overcome by asudden gust of passion, she upset the tureen into his lap. Dick uttered ascream, and in starting back he overturned his chair. Although notscalding, the soup was still hot enough to burn him, and he held his thighsdolorously. The tablecloth was deluged, the hearthrug steamed; and, regardless of everything, Kate rushed past, accusing her husband ofcruelty, of unfaithfulness, stopping only to reproach him with a desire todesert her. While Dick in dripping trousers asked what he had done todeserve having the soup flung over him, Kate's hair became unloosened andhung down her shoulders like a sheaf of black plumes. Dick thought ofchanging his trousers, but the intensity of her passion detained him. Stopping suddenly before the table, she poured out a tumbler of sherry, anddrank it almost at a gulp. It was as nauseous to her taste as lukewarmwater, and she yearned for brandy. It would sting her, would awaken thedull ache of her palate, and she knew well where the bottle was; she couldsee it in her mind's eye, the black neck leaning against the frame of thepicture. Why should she not go and fetch it, and insult him with theconfession of her sin? Was it not he who drove her to it? So Kate thoughtin her madness, and the lack of courage to execute her wishes angered herstill further against the fat creature who lay staring at her, lying backin the armchair. She applied herself again to the sherry and swallowedgreedily. 

'For goodness' sake, ' said Dick, who began to get alarmed, 'don't drinkthat! You'll get drunk. '

'Well, what does it matter if I do? It's you who drive me to it. If youdon't like it, go to Miss Vane. '

'What! You've not finished with that yet? Haven't I told you twenty timesthat there's nothing between me and Miss Vane? I haven't spoken to her forthe last three days. '

'That's a lie!' shrieked Kate. 'You went to meet her this morning. I sawyou. Do you take me for a fool? But oh! I don't know how you can be such abeast! If you wanted to desert me, why did you ever take me away fromHanley? But you can go now, I don't want the leavings of that creature. '

Taken aback by what was nothing more than a random guess, Dick hesitated, and then, deciding that he might as well be caught out in two lies as inone, he said, as a sort of forlorn hope:

'If you saw us you must have seen that she was with Jackson, and that Ididn't do any more than raise my hat. '

Kate made no answer; she was too excited to follow out the train of thesimplest idea, and continued to rave incoherent statements of all kinds. The landlady came up to ask when she should bring up the leg of mutton, butshe went away frightened. There was no dinner that day. Amid screams andviolent words the evening died slowly, and the room darkened until nothingwas seen but the fitful firelight playing on Dick's hands; but still thevague form of the woman passed through the shadows like a figure ofavenging fate. Would she never grow tired and sit down? Dick asked himselfa thousand times. It seemed as if it would never cease, and the incessantrepetition of the same words and gestures turned in the brain with themechanical movement of a wheel, dimming the sense of reality and producingthe obtuse terror of a nightmare. But from this state of semi-consciousnesshe was suddenly awakened by the violent ringing of the bell. 

'What do you want? Can I get you anything?'

Kate did not deign to answer him. When the landlady appeared, she said:

'I want some more sherry; I'm dying of thirst. '

'You shall not have any more, ' said Dick, interposing energetically. 'Mrs. Clarke, I forbid you to bring it up. '

'I say she shall, ' replied Kate, her face twitching with passion. 

'I say she shall not. '

'Then I'll go out and get it. '

'No, I'll see you don't do that, ' said Dick, getting between her and thedoor. As he did so he turned his back to speak to the landlady, and Kate, taking the opportunity, seized a handful of the frizzly hair and almostpulled him to the ground. Twisting round he took her by the wrist and freedhimself, but this angered and still further excited her. 

'You'd better let her have her way, ' the landlady said. 'I won't bring upmuch, and it may put her to sleep. '

Dick, who at the moment would have given half his life for a little peace, nodded his head affirmatively, and went back to his chair. He did not knowwhat to do. Never had he witnessed so terrible a scene before. Since threeor four days back this quarrel had been working up crescendo; and when thelandlady brought up the sherry, Kate seized the decanter, and, complainingthat it was not full, resumed her drinking. 

'So you see I did get it, and I'll get another bottle if I choose. Youthink that I like it. Well, you're mistaken; I don't, I hate it. I onlydrink it because you told me not, because I know that you begrudge it tome; you begrudge me every bit that I put into my mouth, the very clothes Iwear. But it was not you who paid for them. I earned the money myself, andif you think to rob me of what I earn you're mistaken. You shan't. If youtry to do so I shall apply to the magistrate for protection. Yes, and ifyou dare to lay a hand on me I shall have you locked up. Yes, yes--do youhear me?' she screamed, advancing towards him, spilling as she did theglass of wine she held in her hand over her dress. 'I shall have you lockedup, and I should love to do so, because it was you who ruined me, whoseduced me, and I hate you for it. '

She spoke with a fearful volubility, and her haranguing echoed in Dick'sears with the meaningless sound of a water-tap heard splashing on theflagstones of an echoing courtyard. 

Sometimes he would get up, determined to make one more effort, and in hisgentlest and most soothing tones would say:

'Now look here, dear; will you listen to me? I know you well, and I knowyou're a bit excited; if you will believe me----'

But it was no use. She did not seem to hear him; indeed, it almost seemedas if her ears had become stones. Her hands were clenched, and draggingherself away from him, she would resume her tigerish walk. Sometimes Dickwondered at the strength that sustained her, and the thrill of joy that heexperienced was intense when, about two o'clock, after eight or ten hoursof the terrible punishment, he noticed that she seemed to be growing weary, that her cries were becoming less articulate. Several times she had stoppedto rest, her head sank on her bosom, and every effort she made to rouseherself was feebler than the preceding one. At length her legs gave wayunder her, and she slipped insensible on the floor. 

Dick watched for a time, afraid to touch her, lest by some horriblemischance she should wake up and recommence the terrible scene that hadjust been concluded, and at least half an hour elapsed before he couldmuster up courage to undress her and put her to bed. 

XXV

Next morning Kate was duly repentant and begged Dick to forgive her for allshe had said and done. She told him that she loved him better than anythingin the world, and she persuaded him that if she had taken a drop too much, it was owing to jealousy, and not to any liking for the drink itself. 

Dick adopted the theory willingly (every man is reluctant to believe thathis wife is a drunkard), and deceived by the credulity with which he hadaccepted the excuse, Kate resolved to conquer her jealousy, and if shecould not conquer it, she would endure it. Never would she seek escape fromit through spirit again. And had she remained in Manchester, or had sheeven been placed in surroundings that would have rendered the existence ofa fixed set of principles possible, she might have cured herself of hervice. But before two months her engagement at the Prince's came to an end, and Dick's at the Royal very soon followed. They then passed into othercompanies, the first of which dealt with Shakespearean revivals. Dickplayed Don John successfully in _Much Ado About Nothing_, the Ghost in_Hamlet_, the Friar in _Romeo and Juliet_. Kate on her siderepresented with a fair amount of success a series of second parts, such asRosalind in _Romeo_, Bianca in _Othello_, Sweet Ann Page in the_Merry Wives_. It is true there were times when her behaviour was notall that could be desired, sometimes from jealousy, sometimes from drink;generally from a mixture of the two; but on the whole she managed verycleverly, and it was not more than whispered, and always with agood-natured giggle, that Mrs. Lennox was not averse to a glass. 

From the Shakespearean they went to join a dramatic company, where houseswere blown up, and ships sank amid thunder and lightning. Dick played adesperate villain, and Kate a virtuous parlourmaid, until one night, havingsurprised him in the act of kissing the manager's wife, she ran off to thenearest pub, and did not return until she was horribly intoxicated, andstaggered on to the stage calling him the vilest names, accusing him at thesame time of adultery, and pointing out the manager's wife as his paramour. There were shrieks and hysterics, and Dick had great difficulty in provinghis innocence to the angry impresario. He spoke of his honour and a duel, but as the lady in question was starring, the benefit of the doubt had tobe granted her, and on these grounds the matter was hushed up. But after sodisgraceful a scandal it was impossible for the Lennoxes to remain in thecompany. Dick was very much cut up about it, and without even claiming hisweek's salary, he and his wife packed up their baskets and boxes andreturned to Manchester. And there he entered into a quantity ofspeculations, of the character of which she had not the least idea; all sheknew was, that she never saw him from one end of the day to the other. Hewas out of the place at ten o'clock in the morning, and never returnedbefore twelve at night. These hours of idleness and solitude were hard tobear, and Kate begged of Dick to get her an engagement. But he was afraidof another shameful scene, and always gave her the same answer--that he hadas yet heard of nothing, but as soon as he did he would let her know. Shedidn't believe him, but she had to submit, for she could never muster upcourage to go and look for anything herself, and the long summer dayspassed wearily in reading the accounts of the new companies, and the newpieces produced. This sedentary life, and the effects of the brandy, whichshe could now no longer do without, soon began to tell upon her health, andthe rich olive complexion began to fade to sickly yellow. Even Dick noticedthat she was not looking well; he said she required change of air, and afew days after, he burst into the room and told her gaily that he had justarranged a tour to go round the coast of England and play little comicsketches and operettas at the pier theatres. This was good news, and thenext few days were fully occupied in trying over music, making up theirwardrobes, and telegraphing to London for the different books from whichthey would make their selections. A young man whom Dick had heard singingin a public-house proved a great hit. He wrote his own words, some of whichwere considered so funny that at Scarborough and Brighton he frequentlyreceived a couple of guineas for singing a few songs at private housesafter the public entertainment. Afterwards he appeared at the Pavilion, andfor many years supplied the axioms and aphorisms that young Toothpick andCrutch was in the habit of using to garnish the baldness of his nativespeech. 

For a time the sea proved very beneficial to Kate's health, but thenever-ending surprises and expectations she was exposed to finished by sostraining and sharpening her nerves that the stupors, the assuagements ofdrink, became, as it were, a necessary make-weight. Her love for Dickpressed upon and agonized her; it was like a dagger whose steel was beingslowly reddened in the flames of brandy, and in this subtilization of thebrain the remotest particles of pain detached themselves, until life seemedto her nothing but a burning and unbearable frenzy. She did not know whatshe wanted of him, but with a longing that was nearly madness she desiredto possess him wholly; she yearned to bury her poor aching body, throbbingwith the anguish of nerves, in that peaceful hulk of fat, so calm, soinvulnerable to pain, marching amid, and contented in, its sensualities, asa gainly bull grazing amid the pastures of a succulent meadow. 

He was never unkind to her; the soft sleek manner that had won her remainedever the same, but she would have preferred a blow. It would have beensomething to have felt the strength of his hand upon her. She wanted anemotion; she longed to be brutalized. She knew when she tortured him withreproaches she was alienating from herself any affection he might stillbear for her; but she found it impossible to restrain herself. There seemedto be a devil within her that goaded her until all power of will ceased, and against her will she had to obey its behests. A blow might exorcisethis spirit. Were he to strike her to the ground she thought she mightstill be saved; but, alas! he remained as kind and good-natured as ever;and to disguise her drunkenness she had to exaggerate her jealousy. The twowere now mingled so thoroughly in her head that she could scarcelydistinguish one from the other. She knew there were women all around him;she could see them ogling him out of the little boxes at the side of thestage. How they could be such beasts, she couldn't conceive. They stood forhours behind the scenes waiting for him, and she was told they had come forengagements. Baskets of food, pork pies and tongue, came for him, but theseshe pitched out of the window; and she soundly boxed the ears of one littlewretch, whom she had found loitering about the stage-door. Kate was rightsometimes in her suspicions, sometimes wrong, but in every case theyaccentuated the neurosis, occasioned by alcohol, from which she wassuffering. Still, by some extraordinary cunning, she contrived for sometime to regulate her drinking so that it should not interfere withbusiness, and on the rare occasions when Dick had to apologize to thepublic for her non-appearance she insisted that it was not her fault; andfrom a mixture of vanity and a wish to conceal his wife's shame fromhimself, Dick continued to persuade himself that his wife had no real tastefor drink, and never touched it except when these infernal fits of jealousywere upon her. But the words that had come into his mind--'except whenthese infernal fits of jealousy are upon her'--called up many vividmemories; one especially confounded him. He had seen her frightened tocross the dressing-room lest she might fall, glancing from the table to thechair, calculating the distance. It was on his lips to ask her if she didnot feel too ill to appear that day: that perhaps it would be better forhim to go before the curtain and apologize to the public. But he had notdared to say anything, and to his astonishment she was able to overcome theinfluence of the drink (if she had taken any), and he had never heard hersing and dance better. How she had managed it he did not know. 'All thesame, ' he said, 'drink will get the upper hand of her and conquer her if shedoesn't make up her mind to conquer it. The day will come when she will notbe able to go on the stage, or will go on and fall down. ' Dick shut hiseyes to exclude from them the horrible spectacle. She would then be anunmitigated burden on his hands. 'Not a pleasant prospect', he said tohimself. 

He had now been in the provinces for some years and had lived down thememory of many disastrous managements. He had managed the tour of theMorton and Cox's Opera Company very successfully till the crash came. 'Butit will be the success that will be remembered and not the crash when Ireturn to London. Many changes must have happened in town. Many new facesand many old faces that absence will make new again. If only Kate were notso jealous. If I could cure her of jealousy I could cure her of drink. ' Andhe thought of all the notices she had had for Clairette, for Serpolette, for Olivette. He would like to see her play the Duchess. At that moment histhoughts returned to the last time he had seen her, about half an hour ago;the memory was not a pleasant one, and he was glad that he had run out ofthe house and come down to the pier. And in the silence and solitude of thepier at midday he asked himself again why he should not return to town andtake his chance of getting into a new company or being sent out to manageanother provincial tour. In London he might be able to persuade his wife togo into a home, and he fell to thinking of the men and women who he hadheard had been cured of drunkenness. His thoughts melted into dreams andthen, passing suddenly out of dreams into words, he said: 'She will neverconsent to go into a home, and if she did she would only be thinking allthe time that I'd put her there so that I might be after another woman. 'His thoughts were interrupted by a lancinating pain in his feet, and hewithdrew into the shade, and resting the heel of the right boot on the toeof the left, a position that freed him from pain for the time being, helooked round and seeing everywhere a misted sky filled with an innerradiance, he said: 'To-day will be the hottest day we've had yet, and therewon't be a dozen people in the theatre; everybody will be too hot to leavetheir houses. ' There was languor in the incoming wave. 'We shan't have fivepounds in the theatre, ' he muttered to himself, and catching sight of oneof the directors he continued, 'And those fellows won't think of the heat, but will put down the falling off in the audience to our performance. Never, ' he added after a pause, 'have I seen the pier so empty, ' and hewondered who the woman was coming towards him. 

A tall, gaunt woman of about forty-five whose striding gait caused a hoopedand pleated skirt of green silk, surmounted by a bustle, to sway like alime-tree in a breeze, wore a bodice open in front, with short sleeves, thefag end of some other fashion, but the long draggled-tailed feather boabelonged to the eighties, as did the Marie Stuart bonnet. Her blackenedeyebrows and a thickly painted face attracted Dick's attention from afar, and when she approached nearer he was struck by the dark, brilliant, restless eyes. 'A strange and exalted being, ' he said to himself. 'Anauthoress perhaps, ' for he noticed that she carried some papers in herhand; 'or a poet, ' he added; and prompted by his instinct he began to seein her somebody that might be turned to account, and before long he wasthinking how he might introduce himself to her. 

'She's forgotten her parasol; I might borrow one for her from the girl atthe bar, ' and the project seeming good to him he rose, and with a speciallylarge movement of the arm lifted his hat from his head. 

'You will excuse me, I hope, madam, addressing you, and if I do so it isbecause I am in an official capacity here, but may I offer you a parasol?'

'It's very kind of you, ' she replied with a smile that lighted up her largemouth, dispersing its ugliness. 

'She's got a fine set of teeth, ' Dick said to himself, and he answered thathe would borrow a parasol for her in the theatre. 

'It's very kind of you, ' she returned, smiling largely and becomingly uponhim. 'It's true I forgot to bring a parasol with me, and the sun is veryfierce at this time. It will be kind of you, ' and much gratified that hisproposal had been so graciously received, he hobbled away in the directionof the theatre, to return a few moments after with the bar girl's parasol, which he had borrowed and which he opened and handed to the lady. 

'Might I ask, ' she said, 'if you're one of the directors of the theatre?'

'No, ' he answered, 'I'm an actor. '

'An actor in this theatre, ' she replied. 'But they only sing trivial songsand dance in this theatre, and you look to me like one of Shakespeare'simaginations. Henry the Eighth, almost any one of the Henries. King John. '

'Not Romeo, ' Dick interposed. 

'Perhaps not Romeo. Romeo was but sixteen or seventeen, eighteen at themost. But when you were eighteen.... '

'Yes, ' Dick answered, 'I was thin enough then. '

'But you must not disparage yourself. Heroes are not always thin. Hamletwas fat and scant of breath. I can see you as Hamlet, whereas to cast youfor Falstaff would be too obvious. '

'I've played Falstaff, ' Dick replied, 'but I never could do much with thepart, and I never saw anyone who could. The lines are very often toohigh-falutin for the character, and they don't seem to come out, no matterwho plays it; the critics look on it as the best acting part, but in truthit is the worst. '

'Macduff would fit you, no; Lear, ' the lady cried. 

Dick thought he would like to have a shot at the king, and they were soontalking about a Shakespearean theatre devoted to the performance ofShakespearean plays. 'A theatre, ' she said, 'that would devote itself tothe representation of all the heroes in the world; those who spoke noblethoughts and performed noble deeds, thought and deed encompassing eachother, instead of which we have a thousand theatres devoted to therepresentations of the fashions of the moment. So I'm forced to come hereat midday, for at midday there is solitude and sacred silence, or else theclashing of waves. Here at midday I can fancy myself alone with my heroes. '

'And who are your heroes, may I ask?' said Dick. 

'Many are in Shakespeare, ' she answered, 'and many are here in thismanuscript. The heroes of the ancient world, when men were nearer to thegods than they are now. For men, ' she added, 'in my belief, are not movingtowards the Godhead, but away from it. '

'And who are the heroes that you've written about?' Dick asked, and fearingshe would enter into too long an explanation he asked if the manuscript sheheld in her hand was a play. 

'No, a poem, ' she answered. 'I'm studying it for recitation, one I'm goingto recite after my lecture at the Working Men's Club; and the subject of mylecture is the inherent nobility of man, and the necessity of man worship. Women have turned from men and are occupied now with their own aspirations, losing sight thereby of the ideal that God gave them. My poem is a sort ofabstract, an epitome, a compendium of the lecture itself. '

Dick did not understand, but the fact that a lady was going in forrecitation argued that she was interested in theatricals, and with his earspricked like a hound who has got wind of something, he said with a sweetsmile that showed a whole row of white teeth:

'Being an actor myself, I will take the liberty of asking you to allow meto look at your poem, and perhaps if you're studying for recitation I maybe of use to you. '

'Of the very greatest use, ' the lady answered, and handed him hermanuscript; 'one of a set of classical cartoons, ' she added. 

'Humanity in large lines, ' he replied. 

'How quickly you understand, ' she rapped out; 'removed altogether from thetea-table in subject and in metre. What have you got to say, my hero, to meabout my rendering of these lines?

 '"The offspring of Neptune and Terra, daughters of earth and ocean, Dowered with fair faces of woman, capping the bodies of vultures; Armed with sharp, keen talons; crushing and rending and slaying, Blackening and blasting, defiling, spoiling the meats of all banquets; Plundering, perplexing, pursuing, cursing the lives of our heroes, Ever the Harpyiae flourish--just as a triumph of evil. "'

'Hardly anything; and yet if I may venture a criticism--would you mindpassing your manuscript on to me for a moment? May I suggest an emendationthat will render the recitation more easy and more effective?'

'Certainly you may. '

'Then, ' Dick continued, 'I would drop the words--"just as a triumph ofevil, " and run on--"flourish from childhood, ensnaring the noble, thebrave, and the loyal, spreading their nets for destruction, "

 '"Harpyiae flourish in ball-rooms, breathing fierce breath that is poison Over the promise of manhood, over the faith and the lovelight That glows in the hearts of our bravest for all of their kind that is weaker----"

'All that follows, ' Dick added, 'will be recited without emphasis until youcome to these two magnificent lines:

 '"Harpyiae stand by our altars, Harpyiae sit by our hearthstones, Harpyiae suckle our children, Harpyiae ravish our nation, " etc. '

Dick finished with a grand gesture. 

'I think you're right. Yes, I understand that a point can be given to theseverses that I had not thought of before. I hope my poem touched a chord inyour heart? Do you approve of my manner of writing the hexameters?'

'I think the idea very fine, but----'

'But?'

'If you will permit me?'

'Certainly. '

'Well, there are questions of elocution that I would like to speak to youabout. I've to run away now, but we're sure to meet again. '

'I'm on the pier every day at noon, or you will find me in my hotel atfive. I hope you'll come, for I should like to avail myself of yourinstruction. '

'Thank you; I hope to have the pleasure of calling upon you to-morrowafternoon. Good-bye. '

'You don't know my name, ' she cried after him. 'Heroes are full offorgetfulness and naturally, but in this tea-table world we can't get onwithout names and addresses. Will you take my card?'

Dick took the card, thanked her and turned suddenly away. 

'Like a man filled with disquiet, ' the lady said, and she watched the burlyactor hurrying up the pier. 'Is this woman coming to meet him?' she askedherself as Dick hurried away still faster, for in the distance the womancoming down the pier seemed to him like his wife, and if Kate caught himtalking to a woman on the pier all chance of doing any business with hisnew acquaintance would be at an end. But the woman who had just passed himby was not Kate, and the thought crossed his mind that he might return tohis new acquaintance with safety. But on the whole it seemed to him betterto wait until to-morrow. To-morrow he would find out all about her. 'Hername, ' he said, and taking the card out of his pocket he read: 'Mrs. Forest, Mother Superior of the Yarmouth Convent, Alexandra Hotel, Hastings. ' 'Mother Superior of a Convent! I should never have thought it. But if she is a nun, why isn't she in a habit? Classical cartoons andnunneries. I think this time I've hit upon a strange specimen, one of thestrangest I've ever met, which is saying a great deal, for I've met with agood few in my time. It will be better to tear up her card, for if Kateshould find it----'

And then, dismissing Mrs. Forest from his mind, he wondered if he shouldfind Kate drunk or sober. 'Quite sober, ' he said to himself as soon as hecrossed the threshold; and in the best of humours his wife greeted him, andtaking his arm they went down to the pier and gave an entertainment thatwas appreciated by a fairly large audience. 

'Why didn't she ask me to come to her at five to-day?' he asked himself ashe returned home with his wife. 'She may fall through my fingers, ' and hewould have gone straight away to Mrs. Forest, if he had been able to ridhimself of Kate. 

'You'll take me out to tea, Dick?' she said, and to keep her sober he tookher to tea. For the nonce Kate drunk would have suited him better than Katesober, and he dared not go down to the pier next morning in search of Mrs. Forest, it being more than likely that Kate might take it into her head tosun herself on the pier, so he decided to wait; the pier was too dangerous. If he weren't interrupted by Kate the directors might see them together, and they might know Mrs. Forest and tell her that he was a married man. No, he'd just keep his appointment with her at five. But to get rid of Katerequired a deep plan. It was laid and succeeded, and at five he arrived atthe Alexandra Hotel. 

'Is Mrs. Forest in?'

The hall porter told the page boy to take Mr. Lennox up to Mrs. Forest'srooms. 

'All this smells money, ' Dick said to himself in the lift. 

The page boy threw open the door, and after walking through a long corridorthe boy knocked at a door, and Dick walked into a red twilight in which hecaught sight of a green dress in a distant corner. 

'I hope you're not one of those people who require the glare of the sunalways. I like the sun in its proper place out of doors, ' and whilethinking of an appropriate answer Dick strove to find his way through thenumerous pieces of furniture littered over the carpet. 

'Come and sit on the sofa beside me. '

'If you'll allow me, ' he answered, 'I will sit in this armchair. I shall beable to devote myself more completely to the hearing of your poem. '

It was not polite to refuse to sit beside the lady, but Dick contrived toconvey that her presence would trouble his intellectual enjoyment, and theslight displeasure which the refusal had caused vanished out of the paintedface. This first success almost succeeded in screwing up Dick's courage tothe point of asking her if he might remove the flower vase that stood onthe cabinet behind him, but he did not dare, and at every moment he seemedto recognize a new scent. An odour of burning pastilles drifted from adistant corner into a zone of patchouli in which the lady seemed to haveencircled herself and which her every movement seemed to spread in more andmore violent flavours, till Dick began to think he would not be able tohold out till the end of the lady's narrative. Patchouli always gave him aheadache, but the word 'opera' restored him to himself, and with lipsquivering like a cat watching a sparrow he heard that the subject of heropera was derived from her own life; and telling him that it could not beunderstood without a relation of the events that had given it birth, shedrew her legs up on the sofa, and leaning her head against the backcommenced in a low, cooing, but not disagreeable voice to tell of her firstlove adventure. 'I might almost call my departure for Bulgaria, some tenyears ago, a spiritual adventure, ' she said. 

The departure for Bulgaria seemed full of interest, but from Dick's pointof view the leading up to the departure was unduly prolonged, and he foundit difficult to listen with any show of interest to Mrs. Forest'sassurances that until she met the Bulgarian she had thought that babieswere found in parsley-beds or under gooseberry-bushes, and this innocenceof mind was so inherent in her that the Bulgarian had not succeededaltogether in robbing her of it. 'Nor, indeed, did he ever attempt to doso, ' she continued. 'Our friendship was founded purely on the intellect. '

This admission was a disappointment to Dick, who had looked forward to thestory of a novel love adventure which might easily be worked into a comicopera, Bulgaria offering a suitable background. With many pretty smiles hetried to lead the lady into the real story of her past, but Mrs. Forestinsisted so well that he was fain to believe that there had been no past inher life suitable to comic opera. Her Bulgarian adventure had been animatedby love of liberty and a noble desire to free an oppressed race from theignoble rule of the Turks; 'massacres, ' she said, 'full of namelesshorrors. '

Dick would have liked her to name these horrors, but before he could askher to do so she was telling him of the instinct in every woman to mothersomething. The Bulgarians had appealed to her sympathies, and she hadhelped to bring about their liberation by her poetry. In three years shehad learnt the language and had composed two volumes of poems in it. 

'I've looked out copies of my Bulgarian poems for you, ' and she leaned overthe edge of the sofa towards a small table. The movement disarranged herskirt, and Dick's eyes were regaled by the show of a thick shapeless leg, 'doubtless swarthy, ' he said to himself. 

'The title of the first volume, ' she said, handing him the books, 'is, _Songs of a Stranger_. My friend the Bulgarian' (and she mentioned anunpronounceable name) 'contributed a preface. The second volume isentitled, _New Songs by the Stranger_. You will find a translationappended to each. '

Dick promised that he would read the poems as soon as he got home, andbegged Mrs. Forest to proceed with her interesting story of the war inwhich she had lost her great friend, her spiritual adventure, as she calledhim. 

From Bulgaria she had set forth on a long journey, visiting many parts ofChina, returning home full of love for Eastern civilization, and regretthat Western influence would soon make an end of it. 'But, ' she said, 'whenI think of my own life, my narrative seems but a faint echo of it all; onlya fragment of it appears, whereas, if I could tell the whole of it----'

But Dick inclined to the belief that her genius was dramatic rather thannarrative, and to bring the autobiography to an end, he asked her how shehad come to be the Mother Superior of the Yarmouth Convent. 'If I can onlyget her to cut the cackle and get to the 'osses, ' he said to himself, butthis was not easy to do. Mrs. Forest had to relate her socialisticadventures, her engagement to Edgar Horsley. 

'For three years, ' she said, 'I was engaged to him, and at the end of thistime it seemed to me that we must come to an understanding. He was talkingof going to Jamaica, and to go to Jamaica with him we would have to bemarried. So I went down to where he was staying in the country, a cottagein Somersetshire, at the end of a very pretty lane. '

'Good God! if she's going to describe the landscape to me, ' said Dick tohimself. But Mrs. Forest had no eye for the appearance of trees showingagainst the sky, and she was quickly at the cottage door, which was openedto her, she said, by a suspicious-looking woman, who said, 'I think I'veheard of you. Mr. Horsley is out, but you can come in and wait, ' 'and inabout half an hour he came in and introduced me to the woman who had openedthe door to me. "Isabel" is all that I can remember of her name. "Isabel, "he said, "has been living with me for the last ten years, but if you liketo come with us to Jamaica you can join us. " This seemed to me to be aninacceptable proposition. "What you propose to me, " I said, "isunthinkable, " and I left the house, and have not seen or heard of Mr. EdgarHorsley since. I've looked at water, I've looked at poison, and I've lookedat daggers. '

Dick asked her why she had meditated suicide and she answered:

'Was not such an end to a three years' engagement sufficient to inspire inany woman a thought of suicide? And I'm very exceptional. '

A great deal of Mrs. Forest's life had been unfolded; the only thing thatremained in obscurity was how she had come to be the Mother Superior of theYarmouth Convent, and to make that plain, she said it would be necessary totell the story of her conversion to the Catholic faith. 'But that was afterthe convent; the convent was intended for the reformation of dipsomaniacs, female drunkards, ' she said; 'but it was afterwards that I became a RomanCatholic. '

Dick had no wish to hear what dogma it was that had tempted her, but itamused him as he returned home to think of all the strange things that Mrs. Forest had told him; one thing especially amused him, that her realinterest in Catholicism was the confessional. 'How one does get back tooneself in all these things, ' he muttered as he panted up the hot steeproad. 'A convent for the reformation of female drunkards, ' he repeated. 'It's very strange: she can't know anything about my wife. A strangewoman, ' he continued, and fell to thinking if all that she had told him wasthe truth, or if it was one of those stories that people imagine aboutthemselves, and imagine so vividly that after a few years they begin tobelieve that everything they have told has befallen them. He pulled thebooks from his pocket; they were evidently written in a strange language, but there were people who could learn languages and could do nothing else. Her Bulgarian poetry could not be better than her English, and he knew whatthat was like. 'I suppose as soon as she hears I'm married, and she's sureto find out sooner or later, she will be off on some other back. But isthis altogether sure?' He had not walked many steps before he rememberedthat the lecture she was giving at the Working Men's Club was on thechastity of the marriage state; moreover, she had admitted to him that theBulgarian adventure was a spiritual one. 'I should say she was a woman witha big temperament which must have been worth gratifying when she went awaywith that Bulgarian; I wouldn't have minded being in his skin. She hasn'tforgotten that she was once a beautiful girl, that's the worst of it, shehasn't forgotten, ' and Dick remembered that at parting she was a littledemonstrative, saying to him on the staircase: 'But we aren't parting forlong. You will be here tomorrow at my door at the same hour. '

XXVI

The appointment was for five o'clock, and Kate would have liked to remainon the pier with Dick enjoying the summer evening, but he seemed so intenton returning to their lodging that she did not like to oppose his wishes, and she allowed herself to be led all the way up the dusty town to theirclose, hot rooms that she might try over Fredegonde's music. That he shouldwish to hear her voice again in this music flattered her, but she rose fromthe piano, her face aflame, when he began to mention an appointment. 

'It's too bad of you, Dick, to bring me home and then remember anappointment. '

Dick overflowed with mellifluous excuses which did not seem to allay Kate'sanger, and as he hurried down the street it occurred to him that he mighthave thought of a better reason than Fredegonde for bringing her home. However this might be, his thoughts were now with Montgomery and Mrs. Forest rather than with Kate, and it was not till he drew the latchkey fromhis pocket that Kate's singing of the waltz returned to him: he ascendedthe stairs singing it. 

'I think it will work out all right. '

'What will work out all right? You're an hour later than you said you'dbe. '

'Never mind about the hour, ' he answered and began to weave a story abouthis meeting with a pal from London, as he was leaving the pier the otherday: he hadn't spoken to her about it before, not caring to do so untilsomething definite had happened. 

'What has happened?' Kate asked, and Dick, his face aglow, related how thepal had spoken of a great revival of interest in comic opera, especially inFrench music, and that many city men with plenty of money were on thelookout for somebody who knew how to produce this class of work and was insympathy with the Folies Dramatiques tradition. 

Kate, who believed everything that Dick told her, listened with aheightened temperature. At Margate the admirer of Hervé's music became anAmerican who wished to see _Chilpéric, Trône d'Écosse, Le Petit Faust, L'Oeil Crevé, Marguerite de Navarre_, reproduced as they had beenproduced under the composer's direction when Dick was stage-manager at thattheatre. The American was interested in Hervé; for he not only wrote themusic but also the words of his operas. Hervé was, therefore, the Wagner oflight comic opera. And if the new venture received sufficient support fromthe public Dick would like to add other works by Hervé--_La BellePoule_ and _Le Hussard Persecuté_--and having puzzled Kate withmany titles and an imaginary biography of this musical American he fell totelling her of Blanche D'Antigny, singing all the little tunes he couldremember and branching off into an account of _Le Canard à TroisBecs_. This last opera was not by Hervé, but the American liked it andmight be persuaded to produce it later on. 

'It contained a part, ' he said, 'in which Kate would succeed inestablishing herself one of London's favourites;' but his praise of hersinging and acting set her wondering if he were gulling her once more, orif he still believed in her. It might be that her continued sobriety hadreawakened his old love for her, and she remembered suddenly that she hadnever really cared for drink, and never would have touched drink if Dickhad not driven her mad with jealousy. And the fact that her voice hadreturned to her helped her to believe that Dick was sincere when he toldher that she would be a better Fredegonde than Blanche D'Antigny, whocreated the part originally. Montgomery endorsed this view one evening; herefused to take 'no' for an answer: she must sing the score through withhim, and several times he stopped playing; and looking up in her face toldher he had never known a voice to improve so rapidly and so suddenly. Dicknodded his acquiescence in Montgomery's opinion and hoped there would be nomore need to tell Kate lies once she was settled in a lodging behind theCattle Market. But in this he was mistaken, for in London the need to keepup the fiction of Hervé's American admirer was more necessary than atMargate. Dick had to relate his different quests every evening. He had beenafter the Lyceum, but was unable to get an answer from the lessee; he hopedto get one next week; and when next week came he spoke about the Royaltyand the Adelphi and the Haymarket, neglecting, however, to mention thetheatre in which he hoped to produce Laura's opera. 'The large stage of theLyceum would be excellently well suited, ' he said, 'for a fine productionof _Chilpéric_, ' and he besought Kate to apply herself to the study ofthe part of Fredegonde. His imagination led him into dreams of an Englishcompany going over to Paris with all Hervé's works, and Kate obliteratingthe Blanche D'Antigny tradition. Kate listened delighted, discovering inDick's praise of her singing a hope that his love of her had survived themany tribulations it had been through; and while listening she vowed shewould never touch drink again. Nor did her happiness vanish till morning, till she saw him struggling into his greatcoat, and foresaw the longdividing hours. But he had said so many kind things overnight that she wasbehoven to stifle complaint, and bore with her loneliness all day longrefusing food, for without Dick's presence food had no pleasure for her, however hungry she might be. She would wait contented hour after hour ifshe could have him to herself when he returned. But sometimes he wouldbring back a friend with him, and the pair would sit up talking of womenand their aptitudes in different parts. As none of them were knownpersonally to Kate, the names they mentioned suggested only new causes forjealousy, and the thought that Dick was living among all these women whileshe was hidden away in this lodging from night till morning, from morningtill night, maddened her. It seemed to her that having been out all dayDick might at least reserve his evenings for her; and one night she showedthe man he had brought back to supper plainly that his absence would, sofar as she was concerned, have been preferable to his company. 'I wouldn'thave come back, ' he said, 'only Dick insisted;' and interrupting his regretsthat she did not like him, she said: 'It isn't that I don't like you, butyou're used to women who aren't in love with their husbands, and I'm inlove with mine. ' The friend repeated Kate's words to Dick, who said hehadn't a moment till the cast of the new piece was settled, and a fewnights later he brought back some music which he said he would like her totry over. 'But it's manuscript, Dick. Why don't you bring home the printedscore?' The lie that came to his lips was that the score of _Trôned'Écosse_ had never been printed, and this seeming to her very unlikelyshe said she didn't care whether it had or hadn't, but was tired of livingin Islington, and would like to see something of the London of which shehad heard so much. 

'I've been in London all my life, ' Dick said, 'and I haven't been to theTower or to St. Paul's. However, dear, if you'd like to see them we'llvisit all these places together as soon as _Chilpéric_ is produced. '

With this promise he consoled her in a measure, and she watched Dick departand then took up a novel and read it till she could read no longer. Shethen went out for a little walk, but soon returned, finding it wearisome tobe always asking the way. So forlorn and lost did she seem that even thefat landlady, the mother of the ten children who clattered about the headof the kitchen staircase, took pity upon her and told her the number of thebus that would bring her to the British Museum, assuring her that she wouldfind a great deal there to distract her attention. 

It did not matter to her where she went if Dick wasn't with her; withoutDick all places were the same to her, and the British Museum would do aswell as any other place. She must go somewhere, and the British Museumwould do as well as the Tower or St. Paul's. There were things to be seen, and she didn't mind what she saw as long as she saw something new. Shecouldn't look any longer at the two pictures on the walls--"With TheStream" and "Against The Stream, " the wax fruit, the mahogany sideboard, the dingy furniture, the torn curtains; and of all she must get out ofhearing of the children and the surly landlady, who a few minutes ago wasless surly, and had told her of the British Museum, and all the wonderfulthings that were to be seen there. But she hadn't the bus fare, and didn'tlike to ask the landlady for a few pence. As long as she hadn't any moneyshe was out of temptation, and it was by her own wish that Dick left herwithout money. As she walked to and fro she caught sight of his clothesthrown over the back of a chair in the bedroom; and he might have left afew pence in one of his pockets. 

She searched the trousers; how careless Dick was: several shillings: one, two, three, four, five. Five and sixpence. She would take sixpence. As shewalked out of the bedroom clinking the coppers the desire to read hisletters fell upon her, and yielding to it she put her hand into the insidepocket of his coat and drew from it a packet of letters and some papers, manuscripts, poems. 

'Now, who, ' she asked, 'can have been sending him these _ClassicalCartoons_, number four?'

She read of heroes, the glory of manhood collected along the shores of theterrible river that guards the dominions of Pluto. She knew nothing ofPluto, but recognized the handwriting as a woman's, and the lines:

 'Zeus, the monarch of heaven, clothed in the form of a mortal, Kneeling, caressed and caressing, drank from her lips joy and love-draughts, '

caused Kate to dash the manuscript from her. A letter accompanied the poemand read:

'My dear, nothing can be done without you, and if you don't come at once weshall miss getting a theatre this season, and without a theatre we arehelpless. '

Kate did not need to read any more. The letter left no doubt that Dick wasengaged in an intrigue with a woman who had written some play or operawhich he was going to produce, and the envelope out of which she had takenthe letter bore the direction: 'Richard Lennox, Esq. , Post Restante, Margate. '

'So it was lies all the while at Margate, ' she said to herself, walkingabout the room, stopping now and again to stare at some object which shedid not see. 'There was no American, and no _Chilpéric_, no _Trôned'Écosse_, no _L'Oeil Crevé_, no _La Belle Poule_, no _Marguerite deNavarre_. Lies, lies! Nothing but lies! He never intended to produce one ofthem, or that I should play "Fredegonde. " Lies! Lies! And the great part in_Le Canard à Trois Becs_ which would establish my reputation in London. Lies! He never intended to produce one of these operas, ' she cried. 'Heshut me up here in this lodging so that I should be out of the way while hecarried on with that What's-her-name. '

Her brain at that instant seemed to catch fire, and snatching up some moneyfrom the mantelpiece, she rushed out of the house tumbling over thechildren as she made her way to the front door without hat or jacket. Thesunlight awoke her and she looked round puzzled, and only just escapedbeing run over by a passing cart. In front of her was a public-house. Drink! She went in and drank till she recovered her reason and began tolose it again. 

A 'bottle of gin, please, ' she said, and put the money on the counter andreturned to her lodging almost mad with jealousy and rage and thirst forrevenge. 'No, she wouldn't drink any more, for if she were to drink anymore she'd not be able to have it out with Dick, and this time she wouldhave it out with him and no mistake. If he were to kill her it didn'tmatter; but she would have it out with him. ' As she sat by the tablewaiting hour after hour for him to return, her whole mind was expressed bythe words--'I'll have it out with him'--and she didn't weary of repeatingthem, for it seemed to her that they kept her resolution from dying: whatshe feared most was that his presence might quell her resolution. To haveit out with him as she was minded, she mustn't be drunk, nor yet too sober. 

He might bring home a friend with him, but that wouldn't stay her hand. Montgomery too had deceived her. Dick was rehearsing his opera; he hadwritten music for that Mrs. Forest, and this was the end of theirfriendship. 

Many hours went by, but they didn't seem long, passion gave her patience. At last a sound of footsteps caused her to start to her feet. It was Dick. 

'This is going to be an all-night affair, ' he said to himself as soon as hecrossed the threshold. 'I hope you didn't wait supper for me?' His mannerwas most conciliatory, and perhaps it was that conciliatory manner thatinflamed her. 

'Business, I suppose; I know damned well what your business was: I know allabout it, you and your woman, Mrs. Forest; the theatre she's taken for you;where you are rehearsing Montgomery's opera. You cannot deny it, ' shecried. 'Mrs. Forest is her name, ' and reading in his face certain signs ofhis culpability her anger increased, her teeth were set and her eyesglared. 

Dick feared she was going mad, and with an instinctive movement he put outhis arms to restrain her. 

'Don't touch me! don't touch me!' she screamed, and struck at him withclenched fists, and then feeling that her blows were but puny she went forhim like a bird of prey, all her fingers distended. 

'Take that, and that, and that, you beast! Oh, you beast! you beast! youbeast!'

Her shrieks rang through the house as she pursued him round the furniture;he retreating like a lumbering bull striving to escape from her claws. 

'How do you like that?' she cried, as she tore at him with her nails again. 'That will teach you to go messing about after other women. I'll settle youbefore I've done with you. '

Chairs were thrown down, the coal-scuttle was upset, and at last, as Dicktried to get out of the room, Kate stumbled against a rosewood cabinet, sending one of the green vases with its glass shade crashing to the ground, summoning the landlady. 

Dick spoke about his wife having had a fit. 

'Fit or no fit, I hope you'll leave my house to-morrow. '

'Meanwhile, ' Dick answered, 'will you leave my room?' and he shut the doorin the face of the indignant householder. 

Kate, who had now recovered herself a little, poured out a large glass ofraw gin, and to her surprise Dick made no attempt to prevent her drinkingit. 

'As soon as she drinks herself helpless the better, ' he thought, as he wentinto the bedroom to attend to his wounds. The scratches she had given himbefore their marriage were nothing to these. One side of his nose waswell-nigh ripped open, and there were two big, deep gashes running rightacross his face, from the cheek-bone to his ear. It was very lucky, hethought, she hadn't had his eye out, and it might be as well to go round tothe apothecary's and get some vaseline, some antiseptic treatment, fornails are poisonous, he added, and his eyes going round the room caughtsight of his clothes in disorder. 'Ah! she has been at my clothes, ' and hetook up the classical cartoons and his letters and put them away into hispocket, and went into the sitting room, and tried to explain to his wifethat he was going out to see if he could get something from the apothecaryto heal the wounds she had given him. 

Kate did not answer. 'She's dead drunk, ' he said, and it seemed to him thathe couldn't do better than to undress her and put her into bed, and when hehad done this he lay down upon a sofa hoping that he would wake first, andbe able to get out of the house without disturbing her, leaving word withthe landlady that he would come back as soon as his rehearsal was over, andmake arrangements to leave her house since she didn't wish them to stay anylonger. He fell asleep thinking that he might find his landlady in adifferent mood, and might persuade her in the morning to allow them to stayon. The vase, of course, should be paid for. There was a kindly look in herpleasant country face when she wasn't angry; his torn face might win herpity, and not wishing to increase his troubles, she would probably allowthem to stay on; if she didn't he would have to find another lodging thatvery afternoon, which would be unfortunate, for his engagements were many. As it was he'd have to hasten to keep an appointment which he had made withMrs. Forest in the National Gallery. 'She really will have to make somealterations in her second act, ' he said, going to the glass. Kate hadclawed him with a vengeance, and he'd have to tell Laura how he came by historn face; and after some consideration it seemed to him that it would bewell to admit that he had received these wounds in a conflict with a wifewho was, unfortunately, given to drink. It was on these thoughts he fellasleep, and overslept himself, he feared, but Kate was still asleep, andwithout awakening her he stole downstairs to visit the landlady in herparlour, but hearing his step she bounced out of the room with a view, nodoubt, to repeating the warning she had given him overnight, but the sightof his torn face brought pity into hers, and she said:

'Oh, Mr. Lennox, I'm so sorry for you. '

A little sympathetic conversation followed; and Dick went off to meetLaura, whom he recognized in the woman who leaned over the railings betweenthe pillars, seemingly attracted by the view across Trafalgar Square. Shestill wore her green silk dress, the one which he had first seen her in onthe pier at Hastings, and the long draggled feather boa. 

'She doesn't spend money on dress, ' he thought as he lifted his hat withnot quite the same ceremonious gesture as usual, for he didn't wish toexhibit his scars yet. 

'So here you are, Dick, and I waiting for you on the steps of this gallery, glorious with all the imaginations of the heroes. '

'She hasn't seen the scratches yet, ' he said to himself, and turned fromthe light instinctively, preferring that she should make the discoveryindoors, rather than out of doors. His wounds would appear less in thegallery than in the open air. 'Why didn't she take a little more troublewith her make-up?' he asked himself, and then reproved himself fordescribing it as a make-up. 'She's not made up, ' he said to himself, 'she'spainted, ' and he wondered how it was that she could plaster her dark skinso flagrantly with carmine, and put her eyebrows so high up in theforehead. 'Yet the face, ' he said, 'is a finely moulded one, and compellingwhen she forgets her cosmetics, ' and while Dick regretted that she didn'tshow more skill with these, he heard her telling him that she would preferto stop and talk with him in the gallery devoted to the Italian picturesthan elsewhere; 'the sublime conceptions of Raphael raise me above myself. 'And then, as if afraid that her words would seem vainglorious to Dick, shesaid: 'You're always in the same mood, never rising above yourself orsinking below yourself, finding it difficult to understand the pain thatthose who live mostly in the spiritual plane experience lest they fall intoa lower plane. Not that I regard you, Dick, as a lower plane, but yourplane is not mine, and that is why you're so necessary to me, and why, perhaps, I'm so necessary to you, or would be if I'm not. Come, let us sithere in front of the Raphael and talk, since we must, of comic opera. It'sa pity we're not talking of the _Parcoe_ who have been in my mind allthe morning, ' and she began to recite some verses that she had written. But, interrupting herself suddenly, she cried: 'Dick, who has beenscratching you? How did your face get torn like that--who's been scratchingyou?' and Dick answered:

'My wife. '

'Your wife? But you never told me that you were married. '

'If I'd told you I was married I would have had to tell you that my wife isa drunkard and is rapidly drinking herself to death, a thing that no manlikes to speak about. '

'My poor friend, I didn't mean to reprove you. How did all this comeabout?'

It wouldn't do to admit that Kate had discovered Laura's letters and poemsin his pockets, and so he told the story of a former experience with hiswife, and had barely finished it when Laura begged of him to tell her howhe had met his wife. And when he had told her the story, to which shelistened solemnly, she answered, and there was the same gravity in hervoice as in her face: 'All this comes, my dear Dick, of lewdness. '

'But, Laura, I was faithful to my wife. '

'But she was the wife of another man, ' Laura replied, 'not that that is aninsuperable barrier, but you brought, I fear, lewdness into your conjugallife, and lewdness is fatal to happiness whether it be indulged within oroutside the bonds of wedlock. I'm sorry, ' she said, 'that you had to leaveYarmouth before my lecture on the chastity of the marriage state. '

'It wouldn't have mattered, ' Dick replied, 'for my wife had taken to drinklong before we met at Hastings. ' An answer that darkened Laura's facedespite all the paint she wore, and encouraged Dick to ask her if she hadnever felt the thorns of passion prick her when she ran away from herconvent school. 

She seemed uncertain what answer she should return, but only for a moment;and recovering herself quickly she maintained that it wasn't passion, whichis but another name for lewdness, but imagination that had prompted thiselopement, and that if she had gone to Bulgaria it was to seek there anobler life than the one she had left behind. 

'It was the immortal that drew me, ' she said. 

'Even so, ' Dick answered, 'the mortal seems necessary for the immortal, andto provide him with a habitation a woman must give herself to a man. '

'That, ' she replied, 'is one of the penalties entailed by our first parentsupon women, but one that is entailed upon a condition that you have notrespected, but which I have striven always to respect myself. It would beimpossible for me to give myself to a man unless I thought I was going tobear him a child. '

It was on Dick's lips to remind Laura that a woman can always think she isgoing to bear a child, but he refrained, it seeming to him that his purposewould be better served by allowing Laura to justify herself as she pleased, and he waited for an opportunity to speak to her about the alteration whichhe deemed altogether necessary in the second act. But Laura was away on herfavourite theme, and in the end he had recourse to his watch. 

'My dear Laura, I'm due at rehearsal in ten minutes from now. '

'Well, let's go, ' she cried. 

'But, my dear, this is what I've come to tell you. The second act, '--and heexplained the difficulty which would have to be removed. 'Now, like a dear, good girl, will you go home and do this and bring it down to the theatreto-morrow morning at eleven so that we may have an opportunity of goingthrough it together before rehearsal?'

In the meantime, Kate lay on her bed, helpless as ever, just as Dick hadleft her; and it was not until he had given his preliminary instructions tothe ballet-girls, and Montgomery had struck the first notes of his openingchorus, that a ray of consciousness pierced through the heavy, drunkenstupor that pressed upon her brain. With vague movements of hands, sheendeavoured to fasten the front of her dress, and with a groan rolledherself out of the light; but her efforts to fall back into insensibilitywere unavailing, and like the dawn that slips and swells through the veilsof night, a pale waste of consciousness forced itself upon her. First camethe curtains of the bed, then the bare blankness of the wall, and then thegreat throbbing pain that lay like a lump of lead just above her forehead. Her mouth was clammy as if it were filled with glue, her limbs weak as ifthey had been beaten to a pulp by violent blows. She was all pain, but, worse still, a black horror of her life crushed and terrified her, untilshe buried her face in the pillow and wept and moaned for mercy. But toremain in bed was impossible. The pallor of the place was intolerable, andsliding her legs over the side she stood, scarcely able to keep her feet. The room swam as if in a mist; she held her head with clasped hands; thetop of it seemed to be lifting off, and it was with much difficulty thatshe staggered as far as the chest of drawers, where she remained for someminutes trying to recover herself, thinking of what had happened overnight. She had been drunk, she knew that, but where was Dick? Where had he gone?What had she said to him? All mental effort was agony; but she had tothink, and straining at the threads of memory, she strove to follow one tothe end. But it was no use, it soon became hopelessly entangled, and with alow cry she moaned, 'Oh, my poor head! my poor head! I cannot, cannotremember. ' But the question: what has become of Dick? still continued totorture her, till, raising her face suddenly from her arm, she hitched upher falling skirts, and seeing at that moment the bottle on the table, shewent into the sitting-room and poured herself out a little, which she mixedwith water. 

'Just a drop, ' she murmured to herself, 'to pull me together. It was hisfault; until he put me in a passion I was all right. '

Spreading and definite thoughts began to emerge, and for a long time shesat moodily thinking over her wrongs, and as her thoughts wavered they grewsofter and more argumentative. She considered the question from all sides, and, reasoning with herself, was disposed to conclude that it was not allher fault. If she did drink, it was jealousy that drove her to it. Whywasn't he faithful to her who had given up everything for him? Why did hewant to be always running after a lot of other women? Where was he now, she'd like to know? As this question appeared in the lens of her thought, she raised her head, and although boozed the memory of Mrs. Forest'sletters filled her mind. 

'Oh yes, that's where he's gone to, is it?' she murmured to herself. 'Sohe's down with his poetess at the Opéra Comique, rehearsing Montgomery'sopera. '

A determination to follow him slowly formed itself in her mind, and shemanaged to map out the course that she would have to pursue. It seemed toher that she was beset with difficulties. To begin with, she did not knowwhere the theatre was, and she could not conceal from herself the fact thatshe was scarcely in a fit state to take a long walk through the Londonstreets. The spirit drunk on an empty stomach had gone to her head; shereeled a little when she walked; and her own incapacity to act maddenedher. Oh, good heavens! how her head was splitting! What would she not giveto be all right just for a couple of hours, just long enough to go and tellthat beast of a husband of hers what a pig he was, and let the wholetheatre know how he was treating his wife. It was he who drove her todrink. Yes, she would go and do this. It was true her head seemed as if itwere going to roll off her shoulders, but a good sponging would do it good, and then a bottle or two of soda would put her quite straight--so straightthat nobody would know she had touched a drop. 

It took Kate about half an hour to drench herself in a basin, andregardless of her dress, she let her hair lie dripping on her shoulders. The landlady brought her up the soda-water, and seeing what a state herlodger was in, she placed it on the table without a word, without evenreferring to the notice to quit she had given overnight; and steadying hervoice as best she could, Kate asked her to call a cab. 

'Hansom, or four-wheeler?'

'Fo-four wheel-er--if you please. '

'Yes, that'll suit you best, ' said the woman, as she went downstairs. 'You'd perhaps fall out of a hansom. If I were your husband I'd break everybone in your body. '

But Kate was now much soberer, and weak and sick she leaned back upon thehard cushions of the clattering cab. Her mouth was full of water, and theshifting angles of the streets produced on her an effect similar tosea-sickness. London rang in her ears; she could hear a piano tinkling; shesaw Dick directing the movements of a line of girls. Then her dream wasbrought to an end by a gulp. Oh! the fearful nausea; and she did not feelbetter until, flooding her dress and ruining the red velvet seat, all shehad drunk came up. But the vomit brought her great relief, and had it notbeen for a little dizziness and weakness, she would have felt quite rightwhen she arrived at the stage-door. In a terrible state of dirt anduntidiness she was surely, but she noticed nothing, her mind being nowfully occupied in thinking what she should say, first to thestage-door-keeper, and then to her husband. 

At the corner of Wych Street she dismissed the cab, and this done she didnot seem to have courage enough for anything. She felt as if she would liketo sit down on a doorstep and cry. The menacing threats, the bitterupbraidings she had intended, all slipped from her like dreams, and shefelt utterly wretched. 

At that moment, in her little walk up the pavement she found herselfopposite a public-house. Something whispered in her ear that after hersickness one little nip of brandy was necessary, and would put her straightin a moment. She hesitated, but someone pushed her from behind and she wentin. A four of brandy freshened her up wonderfully, enabling her to think ofwhat she had come to do, and to remember how badly she was being treated. Asecond drink put light into her eyes and wickedness into her head, and shefelt she could, and would, face the devil. 'I'll give it to him; I'll teachhim that I'm not to be trodden on, ' she said to herself as she struttedmanfully towards the stage-door, walking on her heels so as to avoid anyunsteadiness of gait. 

The man in the little box was old and feeble. He said he would send hername by the first person going down; but Kate was not in a mood to brookdelays, and, profiting by his inability to stop her, she banged through theswinging door and commenced the descent of a long flight of steps. Belowher was the stage, and between the wings she could see the girls arrangedin a semicircle. Dick, with a big staff in hand, stood in front of thefootlights directing the movements of a procession which was being formed;the piano tinkled merrily on the O. P. Side. 

'Mr. Chappel, will you be good enough to play the "Just put this in yourpocket" chorus over again?' cried Dick, stamping his staff heavily upon theboards. 

'Now then, girls, I hear a good deal too much talking going on at the backthere. I dare say it's very amusing; but if you'd try to combine businesswith pleasure---Now, who did I put in section one?'

Kate hesitated a moment, arrested by the tones of his voice, and she couldnot avoid thinking of the time when she used to play Clairette; besides, all the well-known faces were there. Our lives move as in circles; nomatter what strange vicissitudes we pass through, we generally findourselves gliding once more into the well-known grooves, and Dick, informing the present company, had naturally fallen back upon the old hands, who had travelled with him in the country. They were nearly all there. Mortimer, with his ringlets and his long nasal drawl, stood, as usual, inthe wings, making ill-natured remarks. Dubois strutted as before, andtilting his bishop's hat, explained that he would take no furtherengagement as a singer; if people would not let him act they would have todo without him. With her dyed hair tucked neatly away under her bonnet MissLeslie smiled as agreeably as ever. Beaumont alone seemed to be missing, and Montgomery, in all the importance of a going-to-be-produced author, strode along up and down the stage, apparently busied in thought, the tailsof a Newmarket coat still flapping about his thin legs; and when heappeared in profile against the scenery he looked, as he always had done, like the flitting shadow thrown by an enormous magic-lantern. 

Kate sullenly watched them, gripping the rail of the staircase tightly. Themomentary softening of heart, occasioned by the remembrance of old times, died away in the bitterness of the thought that she who had counted for somuch was now pushed into a corner to live forgotten or disdained. Why wasshe not rehearsing there with them? she asked herself. At once the answercame. Because your husband hates you--because he wants to make love toanother woman. Then, like one crazed, she clattered down the iron spiralstaircase to the stage. She did not even hear Mortimer and Dubois cry outas she pushed past, 'There's Mrs. Lennox!'

In the middle of the stage, however, she looked round, discountenanced bythe silence and the crowd, and, hoping to calm her, Dick advised her, inwhispers, to go upstairs to his room. But this was the signal for her tobreak forth. 

'Go up to your room?' she screamed. 'Never, never! Do you suppose it is totalk to you that I came here? No, I despise you too much. I hate you, and Iwant every one here to know how you treat me. '

With a dull stare she examined the circle of girls who stood whispering ingroups, as if she were going to address one in particular, and several drewback, frightened. Dick attempted to say something, but it seemed that thevery sound of his voice was enough. 

'Go away, go away!' she exclaimed at the top of her voice. 'Go away; don'ttouch me! Go to that woman of yours--Mrs. Forest--go to her, and be damned, you beast! You know she's paying for everything here. You know that youare----'

'For goodness' sake remember what you're saying, ' said Dick, interrupting, and trembling as if for his life. He cast an anxious glance around to seeif the lady in question was within hearing. Fortunately she was not on thestage. 

The chorus crowded timidly forward looking like a school in theirwalking-dresses. The carpenters had ceased to hammer, and were peeping downfrom the flies; Kate stood balancing herself and staring blindly at thosewho surrounded her. Leslie and Montgomery, in the position of old friends, were endeavouring to soothe her, whilst Mortimer and Dubois arguedpassionately as to when they had seen her drunk for the first time. Thefirst insisted that when she had joined them at Hanley she was a bitinebriated; the latter declared that it had begun with the champagne on herwedding day. 

'Don't you remember, Dick was married with a scratched face?'

'To judge from present appearances, ' said the comedian, forcing his wordsslowly through his nose, 'he's likely to die with one. ' At this sally threesupers retired into the wings holding their sides, and Dubois, furious atbeing outdone in a joke, walked away in high dudgeon, calling Mortimer anunfeeling brute. 

In the meantime the drunken row was waxing more furious every moment. Struggling frantically with her friends, Kate called attention to thesticking-plaster on Dick's face, and declared that she would do for him. 

'You see what I gave him last night, and he deserved it. Oh! the beast! AndI'll give him more; and if you knew all you wouldn't blame me. It was hewho seduced me, who got me to run away from home, and he deserts me forother women. But he shan't, he shan't, he shan't; I'll kill him first; yes, I will, and nobody shall stop me. '

Dick listened quite broken with shame for himself and for her; as an excusefor the absence of his wife from the theatre he had told Mortimer and Hayesthat London did not agree with her, and that she had to spend most of hertime at the seaside. All had condoled with him, and when they weresearching London for a second lady, all had agreed that Mrs. Lennox wasjust the person they wanted for the part. What a pity, they said, she wasnot in town. At the present moment Dick wished her the other side ofJordan. For all he knew, she might remain screaming at him the whole day, and if Mrs. Forest came back--well, he didn't know what would happen; thewhole game would then be up the spout. Perhaps the best thing to do wouldbe to tell Montgomery of the danger his piece was in; he and Kate hadalways been friends; she might listen to him. 

Such were Dick's reflections as he stood bashfully trying to avoid the eyesof his ballet-girls. For the life of him he didn't know which way to look. In front of him was a wall of people, whereon certain faces detachedthemselves. He saw Dubois' mumming mug widening with delight until the grinformed a semi-circle round the Jew nose. Mortimer looked on with the mockearnestness of a tortured saint in a stained-glass window. Pity was writtenon all the girls' faces; all were sorry for Dick, especially a tall womanwho forgot herself so completely that she threw her arms about a super andsobbed on his shoulder. 

But Kate still continued to advance, although held by Montgomery and MissLeslie. The long black hair hung in disordered masses; her brown eyes wereshot with golden lights; the green tints in her face became, in herexcessive pallor, dirty and abominable in colour, and she seemed more likea demon than a woman as her screams echoed through the empty theatre. 

'By Jove! we ought to put up _Jane Eyre_, ' said Mortimer. 'If she wereto play the mad woman like that, we'd be sure to draw full houses. '

'I believe you, ' said Dubois; but at that moment he was interrupted by aviolent scream, and suddenly disengaging herself from those who held her, Kate rushed at Dick. With one hand she grappled him by the throat, andbefore anyone could interfere she succeeded in nearly tearing the shirtfrom his back. 

When at length they were separated, she stood staring and panting, everyfibre of her being strained with passion; but she did not again burst forthuntil someone, in a foolish attempt to pacify her, ventured to side withher in her denunciation of her husband. 

'How should such as you dare to say a word against him! I will not hear himabused! No, I will not; I say he's a good man. Yes, yes! He is a good man, the best man that ever lived!' she exclaimed, stamping her foot on theboards, 'the best man that ever lived! I will not hear a word against him!No, I will not! He's my husband; he married me! Yes he did; I can show mycertificate, and that's more than any one of you can. 

'I know you, a damned lot of hussies! I know you; I was one of you myself. You think I wasn't. Well, I can prove it. You go and ask Montgomery if Ididn't play Serpolette all through the country, and Clairette too. I shouldlike to see any of you do that, with the exception of Lucy, who was alwaysa good friend to me; but the rest of you I despise as the dirt under myfeet; so do you think that I would permit you--that I came here to listento my husband being abused, and by such as you! If he has his faults he'saccountable to none but me. '

Here she had to pause for lack of breath; and Dick, who had been pursuinghis shirt-stud, which had rolled into the foot-lights, now drew himself up, and in his stage-commanding voice declared the rehearsal to be over. A fewof the girls lingered, but they were beckoned away by the others, who sawthat the present time was not suitable for the discussion of boots, tights, and dressing-rooms. There was no one left but Leslie, Montgomery, Dick, Kate, and Harding, who, twisting his moustache, watched and listenedapparently with the greatest interest. 

'Oh, you've no idea what a nice woman she used to be, and is, were it notfor that cursed drink, ' said Montgomery, with the tears running down hisnose. 'You remember her, Leslie, don't you? Isn't what I say true? I neverliked a woman so much in my life. '

'You were a friend of hers, then?' said Harding. 

'I should think I was. '

'Then you never were--Yes, yes, I understand. A little friendship flavouredwith love. Yes, yes. Wears better, perhaps, than the genuine article. Whatdo you think, Leslie?'

'Not bad, ' said the prima donna, 'for people with poor appetites. A kind ofdiet suitable for Lent, I should think. '

'Ah! a title for a short story, or better still for an operetta. What doyou think, Montgomery? Shall I do you a book entitled _Lovers inLent_, or _A Lover's Lent_? and Leslie will--'

'No, I won't. None of your forty days for me. '

'I can't understand how you people can go on talking nonsense with a sceneso terrible passing under your eyes, ' cried the musician, as he pointed toKate, who was calling after Dick as she staggered in pursuit of him up thestairs towards the stage-door. 

'Well, what do you want me to do?'

'She'll disgrace him in the street. '

'I can't help that. I never interfere in a love affair; and this isevidently the great passion of a life. '

Montgomery cast an indignant glance at the novelist and rushed after hisfriends; but when he arrived at the stage-door he saw the uselessness ofhis interference. 

It was in the narrow street; the heat sweltered between the old houses thatleaned and lolled upon the huge black traversing beams like aged women oncrutches; and Kate raved against Dick in language that was fearful to hearamid the stage carpenters, the chorus-girls, the idlers that a theatrecollects standing with one foot in the gutter, where vegetable refuse ofall kinds rotted. Her beautiful black hair was now hanging over hershoulders like a mane; someone had trodden on her dress and nearly torn itfrom her waist, and, in avid curiosity, women with dyed hair peeped out ofa suspicious-looking tobacco shop. Over the way, stuck under an overhangingwindow, was an orange-stall; the proprietress stood watching, whilst acrowd of vermin-like children ran forward, delighted at the prospect ofseeing a woman beaten. Close by, in shirt-sleeves, the pot-boy flung openthe public-house door, partly for the purpose of attracting custom, halfwith the intention of letting a little air into the bar-room. 

'Oh, Kate! I beg of you not to go in there, ' said Dick; 'you've had enough;do come home!'

'Come home!' she shrieked, 'and with you, you beast! It was you who seducedme, who got me away from my husband. '

This occasioned a good deal of amusement in the crowd, and several voicesasked for information. 

'And how did he manage to do that, marm?' said one. 

'With a bottle of gin. What do you think?' cried another. 

There were moments when Dick longed for the earth to open; but henevertheless continued to try to prevent Kate from entering thepublic-house. 

'I will drink! I will drink! I will drink! And not because I like it, butto spite you, because I hate you. '

When she came out she appeared to be a little quieted, and Dick tried veryhard to persuade her to get into a cab and drive home. But the very soundof his voice, the very sight of him, seemed to excite her, and in a fewmoments she broke forth into the usual harangue. Several times thetemptation to run away became almost irresistible, but with a noble effortof will he forced himself to remain with her. Hoping to avoid some part ofthe ridicule that was being so liberally showered upon him, he besought ofher to keep up Drury Lane and not descend into the Strand. 

'You don't want to be seen with me; I know, you'd prefer to walk there withMrs. Forest. You think I shall disgrace you. Well, come along, then. 

 '"Look at me here! look at me there! Criticize me everywhere! I am so sweet from head to feet, And most perfect and complete. "'

'That's right, old woman, give us a song. She knows the game, ' answeredanother. 

Raising his big hat from his head, Dick wiped his face, and as if divininghis extreme despair, Kate left off singing and dancing, and the processionproceeded in quiet past several different wine-shops. It was not until theycame to Short's she declared she was dying of thirst and must have a drink. Dick forbade the barman to serve her, and brought upon himself the mostshocking abuse. Knowing that he would be sure to meet a crowd of his 'pals'at the Gaiety bar, he used every endeavour to persuade her to cross thestreet and get out of the sun. 

'Don't bother me with your sun, ' she exclaimed surlily; and then, as ifstruck by the meaning of the word, she said, 'But it wasn't a son, it was adaughter; don't you remember?'

'Oh, Kate! how can you speak so?'

'Speak so? I say it was a daughter, and she died; and you said it was myfault, as you say everything is my fault, you beast! you venomous beast!Yes, she did die. It was a pity; I could have loved her. '

At this moment Dick felt a heavy hand clapped on his shoulder, and turninground he saw a pal of his. 

'What, Dick, my boy! A drunken chorus lady; trying to get her home? Alwaysup to some charitable action. '

'No; she's my wife. '

'I beg your pardon, old chap; you know I didn't mean it;' and the mandisappeared into the bar-room. 

'Yes, I'm his wife, ' Kate shrieked after him. 'I got that much right out ofhim at least; and I played the Serpolette in the _Cloches_. '

 '"Look at me here, look at me there, "'

she sang, flirting with her abominable skirt, amused by the applause of theroughs. 'But I'm going to have a drink here, ' she said, suddenly breakingoff. 

'No, you can't, my good woman, ' said the stout guardian at the door. 

'And why--why not?'

'That don't matter. You go on, or I'll have to give you in charge. '

Kate was not yet so drunk that the words 'in charge' did not frighten her, and she answered humbly enough, 'I'm here wi-th--my hu-s-band, and asyou're so im-impertinent I shall go-go elsewhere. '

At the next place they came to Dick did not protest against her beingserved, but waited, confident of the result, until she had had her four ofgin, and came reeling out into his arms. Shaking herself free she stared athim, and when he was fully recognized, cursed him for his damnedinterference. She could now scarcely stand straight on her legs, and, afterstaggering a few yards further, fell helplessly on the pavement. 

Calling a cab, he bundled her into it and drove away. 

XXVII

'Oh, Dick, dear, what did I do yesterday? Do tell me about yesterday. Was Ivery violent? And those wounds on your face, I didn't do that; don't tellme that I did. Dick, Dick, are you going to leave me?'

'I have to attend to my business, Kate. '

'Ah, your business! Your business! Mrs. Forest is your business; you've noother business but her now. And that is what is driving me to drink. '

'Oh, Kate, don't begin it again. I've a rehearsal----'

'Yes, the rehearsal of her opera and Montgomery's music. I did think he wasmy friend; yet he is putting up her opera to music, and all the while hewas setting it you were telling me lies about _Chilpéric_, saying thatI was to play the Fredegonde, and all the principal parts in the greatHervé festival, that the American--but there was no American. It was cruelof you, Dick, to shut me up here with nobody to speak to; nothing to do butto wait for you hour after hour, and when you come home to hear nothingfrom you but lies, nothing but lies! _Chilpéric, Le Petit Faust, L'OeilCréve, Trône d'Écosse, Marguerite de Navarre, La Belle Poule_. And allthe music I've learnt hoping that I would be allowed to sing it; and yetyou expect that a woman who is deceived like that can abstain from drink. Why, you drive me to it, Dick. An angel from heaven wouldn't abstain fromdrink. Away you go in the morning to Mrs. Forest--to her opera. '

'But, Kate, there's nothing between me and Mrs. Forest. She is a veryclever woman, and I am doing her opera for her. How are we to live if youcome between me and my business?'

'Womanizing is your business, ' Kate answered suddenly. 

'Well, don't let us argue it, ' Dick answered. He tied his shoe-strings andsought for his hat. 

'So you're going, ' she said; 'and when shall I see you again?'

'I shall try to get home for dinner. '

'What time?'

'Not before eight. '

'I shall not see you before twelve, ' she replied, and she experienced a sadsinking of the heart when she heard the door close behind him, a sadsinking that she would have to endure till she heard his latchkey, and thatwould not be for many hours, perhaps not till midnight. She did not knowhow she would be able to endure all these hours; to sleep some of them awaywould be the best thing she could do, and with that intention she drew downthe blind and threw herself on the bed, and lay between sleeping and wakingtill the afternoon. Then, feeling a little better, she rang and asked for acup of tea. It tasted very insipid, but she gulped it down as best shecould, making wry faces and feeling more miserable than ever she had feltbefore; afraid to look back on yesterday, afraid to look forward on themorrow, she bethought herself of the past, of the happy days whenMontgomery used to come and teach her to sing, and her triumphs in the partof Clairette; she was quite as successful in Serpolette; people had likedher in Serpolette, and to recall those days more distinctly she opened abox in which she kept her souvenirs: a withered flower, a brokencigarette-holder, two or three old buttons that had fallen from hisclothes, and a lock of hair, and it was under these that the prize ofprizes lay--a string of false pearls. She liked to run them through herfingers and to see them upon her neck. She still kept the dresses she worein her two favourite parts, the stockings and the shoes, and having nothingto do, no way of passing the time away, she bethought herself of dressingherself in the apparel of her happy days, presenting, when the servant cameup with her dinner, a spectacle that almost caused Emma to drop the dish ofcold mutton. 

'Lord, Mrs. Lennox, I thought I see a ghost; you in that white dress, oh, what lovely clothes!'

'These were the clothes I used to wear when I was on the stage. '

'But law, mum, why aren't you on the stage now?'

Kate began to tell her story to the servant-girl, who listened till a bellrang, and she said:

'That's Mr. So-and-So ringing for his wife; I must run and see to it. Youmust excuse me, mum. '

The cold mutton and the damp potatoes did not tempt her appetite, andcatching sight of herself in the glass, bitter thoughts of the wrongs doneto her surged up in her mind. The tiny nostrils dilated and the upper lipcontracted, and for ten minutes she stood, her hands grasping nervously atthe back of her chair; the canine teeth showed, for the project of revengewas mounting to her head. 'He'll not be back till midnight; all this whilehe is with Leslie and Mrs. Forest, or some new girl perhaps. Yet when hereturns to me, when he is wearied out, he expects to find me sober andpleased to see him. But he shall never see me sober or pleased to see himagain. ' On these words she walked across the room to the fire-place, andputting her hand up the chimney brought down a bottle of Old Tom, and satmoodily sipping gin and water till she heard his key in the lock. 

'He's back earlier than I expected, ' she said. 

Dick entered in his usual deliberate, elephantine way. Kate made no signtill he was seated, then she asked what the news was. 

It was clearly out of the question to tell her that he had been round totea with one of the girls; to explain how he had wheedled Mrs. Forest intoall sorts of theatrical follies was likewise not to be thought of as asubject of news, and as to making conversation out of the rest of the day'sduties, he really didn't see how he was to do it. Miss Howard had put outthe entire procession by not listening to his instructions; Miss Adair, although she was playing the Brigand of the Ultramarine Mountains, hadthreatened to throw up her part if she were not allowed to wear her diamondear-rings. The day had gone in deciding such questions, had passed indrilling those infernal girls; and what interest could there be in goingthrough it all over again? Besides, he never knew how or where he mightbetray himself, and Kate was so quick in picking up the slightest word andtwisting it into extraordinary meanings, that he really would prefer totalk about something else. 

'I can't understand how you can have been out all day without having heardsomething. It is because you want to keep me shut up here and not let meknow anything of your going-on; but I shall go down to the theatreto-morrow and have it out of you. '

'My dear, I assure you that I was at the rehearsal all day. The girls don'tknow their music yet, and it puts me out in my stage arrangement. I giveyou my word that is all I heard or saw to-day. I've nothing to conceal fromyou. '

'You're a liar, and you know you are!'

Blows and shrieks followed. 

'I shall pull that woman's nose off; I know I shall!'

'I give you my word, my dear, that I've been the whole day with Montgomeryand Harding cutting the piece. '

'Cutting the piece! And I should like to know why I'm not in that piece. Isuppose it was you who kept me out of it. Oh, you beast! Why did you everhave anything to do with me? It's you who are ruining me. Were it not foryou, do you think I should be drinking? Not I--it was all your fault. '

Dick made no attempt to answer. He was very tired. Kate continued her marchup and down the room for some moments in silence, but he could see from thetwitching of her face and the swinging of her arms that the storm was boundto burst soon. Presently she said:

'You go and get me something to drink; I've had nothing all this evening. '

'Oh, Kate dear! I beg of--'

'Oh, you won't, won't you? We'll see about that, ' she answered as shelooked around the room for the heaviest object she could conveniently throwat him. 

Seeing how useless it would be to attempt to contradict her in her presentmood, Dick rose to his feet and said hurriedly:

'Now there's no use in getting into a passion, Kate. I'll go, I'll go. '

'You'd better, I can tell you. '

'What shall I get, then?'

'Get me half a pint of gin, and be quick about it--I'm dying of thirst. '

Even Dick, accustomed as he was now to these scenes, could not repress alook in which there was at once mingled pity, astonishment and fear, soabsolutely demoniacal did this little woman seem as she raved under thewatery light of the lodging-house gas, her dark complexion gone to a dullgreenish pallor. By force of contrast she called to his mind the mild-eyedworkwoman he had known in the linen-draper's shop in Hanley, and he askedhimself if it were possible that she and this raging creature, more like atiger in her passion than a human being, were one and the same person? Hecould not choose but wonder. But another scream came, bidding him makehaste, or it would be worse for him, and he bent his head and went to fetchthe gin. 

In the meantime Kate's fury leaped, crackled, and burnt with the fiercenessof a house in the throes of conflagration, and in the smoke-cloud of hatredwhich enveloped her, only fragments of ideas and sensations flashed likefalling sparks through her mind. Up and down the room she walked swingingher arms, only hesitating for some new object whereon to wreak new fury. Suddenly it struck her that Dick had been too long away--that he waskeeping her waiting on purpose; and grinding her teeth, she muttered:

'Oh, the beast! Would he--would he keep me waiting, and since nine thismorning I've been alone!'

In an instant her resolve was taken. It came to her sullenly, obtusely, like the instinct of revenge to an animal. She did not stop to considerwhat she was doing, but, seizing a large stick, the handle of a brush thathappened to have been broken, she stationed herself at the top of thelanding. A feverish tremor agitated her as she waited in the semi-darknessof the stairs. But at last she heard the door open, and Dick came up slowlywith his usual heavy tread. She made neither sign nor stir, but allowed himto get past her, and then, raising the brush-handle, she landed him oneacross the back. The poor man uttered a long cry, and the crash of brokenglass was heard. 

'What did you hit me like that for?' he cried, holding himself with bothhands. 

'You beast, you! I'll teach you to keep me waiting! You would, would you!Do you want another? Go into the sitting-room. '

Dick obeyed humbly and in silence. His only hope was that the landlady hadnot been awakened, and he felt uneasily at his pockets, through which hecould feel the gin dripping down his legs. 

'Well, have you brought the drink I sent you for? Where is it?'

'Well, ' replied Dick, desirous of conciliating at any price, 'it was in mypocket, but when you hit me with that stick you broke it. '

'I broke it?' cried Kate, her eyes glistening with fire. 

'Yes, dear, you did; it wasn't my fault. '

'Wasn't your fault! Oh, you horrid wretch! you put it there on purpose thatI should break it. '

'Oh, now really, Kate, ' he cried, shocked by the unfairness of theaccusation, 'how could I know that you were going to hit me there?'

'I don't know and I don't care; what's that to me? But what I'm sure of isthat you always want to spite me, that you hate me, that you would wish tosee me dead, so that you might marry Mrs. Forest. '

'I can't think how you can say such things. I've often told you that Mrs. Forest and I--'

'Oh! don't bother me. I'm not such a fool. I know she keeps you, and shewill have to pay me a drink to-night. Go and get another bottle of gin; andmind you pay for it with the money she gave you to-day. Yes, she shallstand me a drink to-night!'

'I give you my word I haven't another penny-piece upon me; it's just theaccident--'

But Dick did not get time to finish the sentence; he was interrupted by aheavy blow across the face, and like a panther that has tasted blood, sherushed at him again, screaming all the while: 'Oh, you've no money! Youliar! you liar! So you would make me believe that she does not give youmoney, that you have no money of hers in your pocket. You would keep it allfor yourself; but you shan't, no, you shan't, for I will tear it from youand throw it in your face! Oh, that filthy money! that filthy money!'

The patience with which he bore with her was truly angelic. He might easilyhave felled her to the ground with one stroke, but he contented himselfwith merely warding off the blows she aimed at him. From his great heightand strength, he was easily able to do this, and she struck at him with herlittle womanish arms as she might against a door. 

'Take down your hands, ' she screamed, exasperated to a last degree. 'Youwould strike me, would you? You beast! I know you would. '

Her rage had now reached its height. Showing her clenched teeth, she foamedat the mouth, the bloodshot eyes protruded from their sockets, and hervoice grew more and more harsh and discordant. But, although the excitedbrain gave strength to the muscles and energy to the will, unarmed shecould do nothing against Dick, and suddenly becoming conscious of this sherushed to the fireplace and seized the poker. With one sweep of the arm shecleared the mantel-board, and the mirror came in for a tremendous blow asshe advanced round the table brandishing her weapon; but, heedless of theshattered glass, she followed in pursuit of Dick, who continued to defendhimself dexterously with a chair. And it is difficult to say how long thiscombat might have lasted if Dick's attention had not been interrupted bythe view of the landlady's face at the door; and so touched was he by thewoman's dismay when she looked upon her broken furniture, that he forgot toguard himself from the poker. Kate took advantage of the occasion andwhirled the weapon round her head. He saw it descending in time, and halfwarded off the blow; but it came down with awful force on the forearm, andglancing off, inflicted a severe scalp wound. The landlady screamed'Murder!' and Dick, seeing that matters had come to a crisis, closed inupon his wife, and undeterred by yells and struggles, pinioned her andforced her into a chair. 

'Oh, dear! Oh, dear! You're all bleeding, sir, ' cried the landlady; 'shehas nearly killed you. '

'Never mind me. But what are we to do? I think she has gone mad this time. '

'That's what I think, ' said the landlady, trying to make herself heardabove Kate's shrieks. 

'Well, then, go and fetch a doctor, and let's hear what he has to say, 'replied Dick, as he changed his grip on Kate's arm, for in a desperatestruggle she had nearly succeeded in wrenching herself free. The landladyretreated precipitately towards the door. 

'Well, will you go?'

'Yes, yes, I'll run at once. '

'You'd better, ' yelled the mad woman after her. 'I'll give it to you! Letme go! Let me go, will you?'

But Dick never ceased his hold of her, and the blood, dripping upon her, trickled in large drops into her ears, and down into her neck and bosom. 

'You're spitting on me, you beast! You filthy beast! I'll pay you out forthis. ' Then she perceived that it was blood; the intonation of her voicechanged, and in terror she screamed, 'Murder! murder! He's murdering me! Isthere no one here to save me?'

The minutes seemed like eternities. Dick felt himself growing faint, butshould he lose his power over her before the doctor arrived, theconsequences might be fatal to himself, so he struggled with her for verylife. 

At last the door was opened, and a man walked into the room, tripping in sodoing over a piece of the broken mirror. It was the doctor, and accustomedas he was to betray surprise at nothing, he could not repress a look ofhorror on catching sight of the scene around him. 

The apartment was almost dismantled; chairs lay backless about the flooramid china shepherdesses and toreadors; pictures were thrown over the sofa, and a huge pile of wax fruit--apples and purple grapes--was partiallyreflected in a large piece of mirror that had fallen across the hearthrug. 

'Come, help me to hold her, ' said Dick, raising his blood-stained face. 

With a quick movement the doctor took possession of Kate's arms. 'Give me asheet from the next room; I'll soon make her fast. '

The threat of being tied had its effect. Kate became quieter, and aftersome trouble they succeeded in carrying her into the next room and layingher on the bed. There she rolled convulsively, beating the pillows with herarms. The landlady stationed herself at the door to give notice of anyfurther manifestation of fury, whilst Dick explained the circumstances ofthe case to the doctor. 

After a short consultation, he agreed to sign an order declaring that inhis opinion Mrs. Lennox was a dangerous lunatic. 

'Will that be enough, ' said Dick, 'to place her in an asylum?'

'No, you'll have to get the opinion of another doctor. '

The possibility of being able to rid himself of her was to him like thesudden dawning of a new life, and Dick rushed off, bleeding, haggard, wild-looking as he was, to seek for another doctor who would concur in thejudgment of the first, asking himself if it were possible to see Kate inher present position, and say conscientiously that she was a person whocould be safely trusted with her liberty? And to his great joy this viewwas taken by the second authority consulted, and having placed his wifeunder lock and key, Dick lay down to rest a happier man than he had beenfor many a day. The position in his mind was, of course, the means heshould adopt to place her in the asylum. Force was not to be thought of;persuasion must be first tried. So far he was decided, but as to thearguments he should advance to induce her to give up her liberty he knewnothing, nor did he attempt to formulate any scheme, and when he enteredthe bedroom next morning he relied more on the hope of finding herrepentant, and appealing to and working on her feelings of remorse thananything else. 'The whole thing, ' as he put it, 'depended upon the humourhe should find her in. '

And he found her with stains of blood still upon her face, amid the brokenfurniture, and she asked calmly but with intense emotion:

'Dick, did he say I was mad?'

'Well, dear, I don't know that he said you were mad except when you werethe worse for drink, but he said--'

'That I might become mad, ' she interposed, 'if I don't abstain from drink. Did he say that?'

'Well, it was something like that, Kate. You know I only just escaped withmy life. '

'Only just escaped with your life, Dick! Oh, if I'd killed you, if I'dkilled you! If I'd seen you lying dead at my feet!' and unable to thinkfurther she fell on her knees and reached out her arms to him. But he didnot take her to his bosom, and she sobbed till, touched to the heart, hestrove to console her with kind words, never forgetting, however, tointroduce a hint that she was not responsible for her actions. 

'Then I'm really downright mad?' said Kate, raising her tear-stained facefrom her arms. 'Did the doctor say so?'

This was by far too direct a question for Dick to answer; it were better toequivocate. 

'Well, my dear--mad? He didn't say that you were always mad, but he saidyou were liable to fits, and that if you didn't take care those fits wouldgrow upon you, and you would become--'

Then he hesitated as he always did before a direct statement. 

'But what did he say I must do to get well?'

'He advised that you should go to a home where you would not be able to gethold of any liquor and would be looked after'

'You mean a madhouse. You wouldn't put me in a madhouse, Dick?'

'I wouldn't put you anywhere where you didn't like to go; but he saidnothing about a madhouse. '

'What did he say, then?'

'He spoke merely of one of those houses which are under medicalsupervision, and where anyone can go and live for a time; a kind ofhospital, you know. '

The argument was continued for an hour or more. Kate wept and protestedagainst being locked up as a mad woman; while he, conscious of the stronghold he had over her, reminded her in a thousand ways of the danger she ranof awakening one morning to find herself a murderess. Yet it is difficultto persuade anyone voluntarily to enter a lunatic asylum, no matter howirrefutable the reasons advanced may be, and it was not until Dick on oneside skilfully threatened her with separation, and tempted her on the otherwith the hope of being cured of her vice and living with him happily everafterwards, that she consented to enter Dr. ----'s private asylum, CravenStreet, Bloomsbury. But even then the battle was not won, for when hesuggested going off there at once, he very nearly brought another fit ofpassion down on his head. It was only the extreme lassitude and debilityproduced from the excesses of last night that saved him. 

'Oh, Dick, dear! if you only knew how I love you! I would give my last dropof blood to save you from harm. '

'I know you would, dear; it's the fault of that confounded drink, ' heanswered, his heart tense with the hope of being rid of her. Then thepacking began. Kate sat disconsolate on the sofa, and watched Dick foldingup her dresses and petticoats. It seemed to her that everything had ended, and wearily she collected the pearls which had been scattered in lastnight's skirmishing. Some had been trodden on, others were lost, and onlyabout half the original number could be found, and shaken with nervousnessand lassitude, Kate cried and wrung her hands. Dick sat next her, kind, huge, and indifferent, even as the world itself. 

'But you'll come and see me? You promise me that you'll come--that you'llcome very often. '

'Yes, dear, I'll come two or three times a week; but I hope that you'll bewell soon--very soon. '

XXVIII

The hope Dick expressed that his wife would soon be well enough to returnhome was, of course, untrue, his hope being that she would never cross thedoors of the house in Bloomsbury whither he was taking her. The empty bedawaiting him was so great a relief that he fell on his knees before it andprayed that the doctors might judge her to be insane, unsafe to be atlarge. To wake up in the morning alone in his bed, and to be free to goforth to his business without question seemed to him like Heaven. But thepleasures of Heaven last for eternity, and Dick's delight lasted but fortwo days. Two days after Kate had gone into the asylum a letter came fromone of the doctors saying that Mrs. Lennox was not insane, and would haveto be discharged. 

Dick sank into a chair and lay there almost stunned, plunged in despairthat was like a thick fog, and it did not lift until the door opened andKate stood before him again. 

He raised his head and looked at her stupidly, and interpreting his vacantface, she said:

'Dick, you're sorry to have me back again. '

'Sorry, Kate? Well, if things were different I shouldn't be sorry. But yousee the blow you struck me with the poker very nearly did for me; I haven'tbeen the same man since. '

'Well, ' she said, 'I must go back to the asylum or the home, whatever youcall it, and tell them that I am mad. '

'There's no use in doing that, Kate, they wouldn't believe you. Here is theletter I've just received; read it. '

'But, Dick, there must be some way out of this dreadful trouble, and yetthere doesn't seem to be any. Try to think, dear, try to think. Can youthink of anything, dear? I don't think I shall give way again. If I onlyhad something to do; it's because I'm always alone; because I love you;because I'm jealous of that woman. '

'But, Kate, if I stop here with you all day we shall starve. I must go tobusiness. '

'Ah, business! Business! If I could go to business too. The days when weused to rehearse went merrily enough. '

'You were the best Clairette I ever saw, ' Dick answered; 'better than PaolaMariee, and I ought to know, for I rehearsed you both. '

'I shall never play Clairette again, ' Kate said sadly. 'I've lost my figureand the part requires a waist. '

'You might get your waist again, ' Dick said, and the words seemed to himextraordinarily silly, but he had to say something. 

'If I could only get to work again, ' she muttered to herself, and thenturning to Dick--

'Dick, if I could get to work again; any part would do; it doesn't matterhow small, just to give me something to think about, that's all, to keep mymind off it. If the baby had not died I should have had her to look afterand that would have done just as well as a part. But I've disgraced you incompany; I don't blame you, you couldn't have me in it, and I couldn'tbring myself to sing in that opera. '

'Yes, you would only break out again, Kate. Those jealous fits areterrible. You think you could restrain yourself, but you couldn't; and allthat would come of a row between you and Mrs. Forest would be that I shouldlose my job. '

'I know, Dick, I know, ' Kate cried painfully, 'but I promise you that Inever will again. You may go where you please and do what you please. Iwill never say a word to you again. '

'I'm sure you believe all that you say, Kate, but I cannot get you a job. Imay hear of something. Meanwhile----'

'Meanwhile I shall have to stay here and alone and no way of escaping fromthe hours, those long dreary hours, no way but one. Dick, I'm sorry theydid not keep me in the asylum, it would have been better for both of us ifthey had; and if I could go back there again, if you will take me back, Iwill try to deceive the doctors. '

'You mean, Kate, that you would play the mad woman? I doubt if any womancould do it sufficiently well to deceive the doctors. There was an Italianwoman, ' and they talked of the great Italian actress for some time and thenDick said: 'Well, Kate, I must be about my business. I'm sorry to leaveyou. '

'No, Dick, you're not. '

'I am, dear, in a way. But if I hear of anything----' and he left the houseknowing that there was no further hope for himself. He was tied to her andmight be killed by her in his sleep, but that would not matter. What didmatter was the thought that was always at the back of his mind, that shewas alone in that Islington lodging-house craving for drink, striving toresist it, falling back into drink and might be coming down raving to thetheatre to insult him before the company. Insult him before the company!That had been done, she had done her worst, and he was indifferent whethershe came again, only she must not meet Mrs. Forest. On the whole he feltthat his sorrow was with Kate herself rather than himself or with Mrs. Forest. 'God only knows, ' he said as he rushed down the stairs, 'what willbecome of her. '

Kate was asking herself the same question--what was to become of her? Wouldit be possible for her to find work to do that would keep her mind awayfrom the drink? She seemed for the moment free from all craving, but sheknew what the craving is, how overpowering in the throat it is, and howwhen one has got one mouthful one must go on and on, so intense is thedelight of alcohol in the throat of the drunkard. But there was no cravingupon her, and it might never come again. Every morning she awoke in greatfear, but was glad to find that there was no craving in her throat, andwhen she went out she rejoiced that the public-houses offered no attractionto her. She became brave; and fear turned to contempt, and at the bottom ofher heart she began to jeer at the demon which had conquered and broughther to ruin and which she had in turn conquered. But there was a lastmockery she did not dare, for she knew that the demon was but biding histime. He seemed, however, to go on biding it, and Dick, finding Katereasonable every evening, came home to dinner earlier so that the dayshould not appear to her intolerably long. But his business often detainedhim, and one night coming home late he noticed that she looked more sullenthan usual, that her eyes drooped as if she had been drinking. A month ofscenes of violence followed; 'not a single day as far as I can remember fora fortnight' he said one day on leaving the house and running to catch hisbus to the Strand, 'have we had a quiet evening. ' When he returned thatnight she ran at him with a knife, and he had only just time to ward offthe blow. The house rang with shrieks and cries of all sorts, and theLennoxes were driven from one lodging-house to another. Trousers, dresses, hats, boots and shoes, were all pawned. The comic and the pitiful are buttwo sides of the same thing, and it was at once comic and pitiful to seeDick, with one of the tails of his coat lost in the scrimmage, talking atone o'clock in the morning to a dispassionate policeman, while from the topwindows the high treble voice of a woman disturbed the sullen tranquillityof the London night. 

And yet Dick continued with her--continued to allow himself to be beaten, scratched, torn to pieces almost as he would be by a wild beast. Humannature can habituate itself even to pain, and it was so with him. He knewthat his present life was as a Nessus shirt on his back, and yet hecouldn't make up his mind to have done with it. In the first place, hepitied his wife; in the second, he did not know how to leave her; and itwas not until after another row with Kate for having been down to thetheatre that he summoned up courage to walk out of the house with a fixeddetermination never to return again. Kate was too tipsy at the time to paymuch attention to the announcement he made to her as he left the room. Besides, 'Wolf!' had been cried so often that it had now lost its terror inher ears, and it was not until next day that she began to experience anyvery certain fear that Dick and she had at last parted for ever. But when, with a clammy, thirsty mouth, she sat rocking herself wearily, and the longidleness of the morning hours became haunted with irritating remembrancesof her shameful conduct, of the cruel life she led the man she loved, theblack gulf of eternal separation became, as it were, etched upon her mind;and she heard the cold depths reverberating with vain words and foolishprayers. Then her thin hands trembled on her black dress, and waves ofshivering passed over her. She thought involuntarily that a little brandymight give her strength, and as soon hated herself for the thought. It wasbrandy that had brought her to this. She would never touch it again. ButDick had not left her for ever; he would come back to her; she could notlive without him. It was terrible! She would go to him, and on her kneesbeg his pardon for all she had done. He would forgive her. He must forgiveher. Such were the fugitive thoughts that flashed through Kate's mind asshe hurried to and fro, seeking for her bonnet and shawl. She would go downto the theatre and find him; she would be sure to hear news of him there, she said, as she strove to brush away the mist that obscured her eyes. Shecould see nothing; things seemed to change their places, and so terriblewere the palpitations of her heart that she was forced to cling to anypiece of furniture within reach. But by walking very slowly she contrivedto reach the stage-door of the Opéra Comique, feeling very weak and ill. 

'Is Mr. Lennox in?' she asked, at the same time trying to lookconciliatingly at the hard-faced hall-keeper. 

'No, ma'am, he ain't, ' was the reply. 

'Who attended the rehearsal to-day, then?'

'There was no rehearsal to-day, ma'am--leastways Mr. Lennox dismissed therehearsal at half-past twelve. '

'And why?'

'Ah! that I cannot tell you. '

'Could you tell me where Mr. Lennox would be likely to be found?'

'Indeed I couldn't, ma'am; I believe he's gone into the country. '

'Gone into the country!' echoed Kate. 

'But may I ask, ma'am, if you be Mrs. Lennox? Because if you be, Mr. Lennoxleft a letter to be given to you in case you called. '

Her eyes brightened at the idea of a letter. To know the worst would bebetter than a horrible uncertainty, and she said eagerly:

'Yes, I'm Mrs. Lennox; give me the letter. '

The hall-keeper handed it to her, and she walked out of the narrow passageinto the street, so as to be free from observation. With anxious fingersshe tore open the envelope, and read, 'MY DEAR KATE, 'It must be now as clear to you as it is to me that it is quite impossiblefor us to go on living together. There is no use in our again discussingthe whys and the wherefores; we had much better accept the facts of thecase in silence, and mutually save each other the pain of trying to alterwhat cannot be altered. 

'I have arranged to allow you two pounds a week. This sum will be paid toyou every Saturday, by applying to Messrs. Jackson and Co. , Solicitors, Arundel Street, Strand. 

'Yours very affectionately, 'RICHARD LENNOX. '

Kate mechanically repeated the last words as she walked gloomily throughthe glare of the day. 'Two pounds a week. ' she said, and with nothing else;not a friend, and the thought passed through her mind that she could nothave a friend, she had fallen too low, yet from no fault of her own norDick's, and it was that that frightened her. A terrible sense ofloneliness, of desolation, was created in her heart. For her the worldseemed to have ended, and she saw the streets and passers-by with the samevague, irresponsible gaze as a solitary figure would the universal ruincaused by an earthquake. She had no friends, no occupation, no interest ofany kind in life; everything had slipped from her, and she shivered with asense of nakedness, of moral destitution. Nothing was left to her, and yetshe felt, she lived, she was conscious. Oh yes, horribly conscious. Andthat was the worst; and she asked herself why she could not pass out ofsight, out of hearing and feeling of all the crying misery with which shewas surrounded, and in a state of emotive somnambulism she walked throughthe crowds till she was startled from her dreams by hearing a voice callingafter her, 'Kate! Kate!--Mrs. Lennox!'

It was Montgomery. 

'I'm so glad to have met you--so glad, indeed, for we have not seen much ofeach other. I don't know how it was, but somehow it seemed to me that Dickdid not want me to go and see you. I never could make out why, for hecouldn't have been jealous of me, ' he added a little bitterly. 'But perhapsyou've not heard that it's all up as regards my piece at the OpéraComique, ' he continued, not noticing Kate's dejection in his excitement. 

'No, I haven't heard, ' she answered mechanically. 

'It doesn't matter much, though, for I've just been down to the Gaiety, andpretty well settled that it's to be done in Manchester, at the Prince's; soyou see I don't let the grass grow under my feet, for my row with Mrs. Forest only occurred this morning. But what's the matter, Kate? What hashappened?'

'Oh, nothing, nothing. Tell me about Mrs. Forest first; I want to know. '

'Well, it's the funniest thing you ever heard in your life; but you won'ttell Dick, because he forbade me ever to speak to you about Mrs. Forest--not that there is anything but business between them; that I swearto you. But do tell me, Kate, what is the matter? I never saw you look sosad in my life. Have you had any bad news?'

'No, no. Tell me about Mrs. Forest and your piece; I want to hear, ' sheexclaimed excitedly. 

'Well, this is it, ' said Montgomery, who saw in a glance that she was notto be contradicted, and that he had better get on with his story. 'In thefirst place, you know that the old creature has gone in for writinglibrettos herself, and has finished one about Buddhism, an absurdity; theopening chorus is fifty lines long, but she won't cut one; but I'll tellyou about that after. I was to get one hundred for setting this blessedproduction to music, and it was to follow my own piece, which was inrehearsal. Well, like a great fool, I was explaining to Dubois the bosh Iwas writing by the yard for this infernal opera of hers. I couldn't helpit; she wouldn't take advice on any point. She has written the song of theSun-god in hexameters. I don't know what hexameters are, but I would assoon set Bradshaw--leaving St. Pancras nine twenty-five, arriving at--ha!ha! ha!--with a puff, puff accompaniment on the trombone. '

'Go on with the story, ' cried Kate. 

'Well, I was explaining all this, ' said Montgomery, suddenly growingserious, 'when out she darted from behind the other wing--I never knew shewas there. She called me a thief, and said she wouldn't have me anotherfive minutes in her theatre. Monti, the Italian composer, was sent for. Iwas shoved out, bag and baggage, and there will be no more rehearsals tillthe new music is ready. That's all. '

'I'm very sorry for you--very sorry, ' said Kate very quietly, and sheraised her hand to brush away a tear. 

'Oh, I don't care; I'd sooner have the piece done in Manchester. Of courseit's a bore, losing a hundred pounds. But, oh, Kate! do tell me what's thematter; you know you can confide in me; you know I'm your friend. '

At these kind words the cold deadly grief that encircled Kate's heart likea band of steel melted, and she wept profusely. Montgomery drew her arminto his and pleaded and begged to be told the reason of these tears; butshe could make no answer, and pressed Dick's letter into his hand with apassionate gesture. He read it at a glance, and then hesitated, unable tomake up his mind as to what he should do. No words seemed to him adequatewherewith to console her, and she was sobbing so bitterly that it wasbeginning to attract attention in the streets. They walked on withoutspeaking for a few yards, Kate leaning upon Montgomery, until a hackneycoachman, guessing that something was wrong signed to them with his whip. 

'Where are you living, dear?'

Kate told him with some difficulty, and having directed the driver, helapsed again into considering what course he should adopt. To put off thejourney was impossible; Dick had promised to meet him there. It was nowthree o'clock. He had therefore three hours to spend with Kate--with thewoman whom he had loved steadfastly throughout a loveless life. He had noword of blame for Dick; he had heard stories that had made his blood runcold; and yet, knowing her faults as he did, he would have opened his armshad it been possible, and crying through the fervour of years of waiting, said to her, 'Yes, I will believe in you; believe in me and you shall behappy. ' There had never been a secret between them; their souls had beenfor ever as if in communication; and the love, unacknowledged in words, hadlong been as sunlight and moonlight, lighting the spaces of theirdream-life. To the woman it had been as a distant star whose pale light wasa presage of quietude in hours of vexation; to the man it seemed as a farElysium radiant with sweet longing, large hopes that waxed but never waned, and where the sweet breezes of eternal felicity blew in musical cadence. 

And yet he was deceived in nothing. He knew now as he had known before, that although this dream might haunt him for ever, he should never hold itin his arms nor press it to his lips; and in the midst of this surging tideof misery there arose a desire that, glad in its own anguish, bade himincrease the bitterness of these last hours by making a confession of hissuffering; and, exulting savagely in the martyrdom he was preparing forhimself, he said:

'You know, Kate--I know you must know--you must have guessed that I carefor you. I may as well tell you the truth now--you are the only woman Iever loved. '

'Yes, ' she said, 'I always thought you cared for me. You have been verykind--oh! very kind, and I often think of it. Ah! everybody has, all mylife long, been very good to me; it is I alone who am to blame, who am infault. I have, I know I have, been very wicked, and I don't know why. I didnot mean it; I know I didn't, for I'm not at heart a wicked woman. Isuppose things must have gone against me; that's about all. '

Montgomery pushed his glasses higher on his nose, and after a long silencehe said:

'I've often thought that had you met me before you knew Dick, things mighthave been different. We should have got on better, although you might neverhave loved me so well. '

Kate raised her eyes, and she said:

'No one will ever know how I have loved, how I still love that man. Oftentimes I think that had I loved him less I should have been a betterwife. I think he loved me, but it was not the love I dreamed of. Like you, I was always sentimental, and Dick never cared for that sort of thing. '

'I think I should have understood you better, ' said Montgomery; and theconversation came to a pause. A vision of the life of devotion spent at thefeet of an ideal lover, that life of sacrifice and tenderness which hadbeen her dream, and which she had so utterly failed to attain, again roseup to tantalize her like a glittering mirage: and she could not helpwondering whether she would have realized this beautiful, this wonderfulmight-have-been if she had chosen this other man. 

'But I suppose you'll make it up with Dick, ' said Montgomery somewhatharshly. 

Kate awoke from her reverie with a start, and answered sorrowfully that shedid not know, that she was afraid Dick would never forgive her again. 

'I don't remember if I told you that I'm going to see him in Manchester; hepromised to go up there to make some arrangements about my piece. '

'No, you didn't tell me. '

'Well, I'll speak to him. I'll tell him I've seen you. I fancy I shall beable to make it all right, ' he added, with a feeble smile. 

'Oh! how good you are--how good you are, ' cried Kate, clasping her hands. 'If he will only forgive me once again, I'll promise, I'll swear to himnever to-to--'

Here Kate stopped abashed, and burying her face in her hands, she weptbitterly. The tenderness, the melancholy serenity of their interview, hadsomehow suddenly come to an end. Each was too much occupied with his or herthoughts to talk much, and the effort to find phrases grew more and moreirritating. Both were very sad, and although they sighed when the clockstruck the hour of farewell, they felt that to pass from one pain toanother was in itself an assuagement. Kate accompanied Montgomery to thestation. He seemed to her to be out of temper; she to him to be furtheraway than ever. The explanation that had taken place between them had, ifnot broken, at least altered the old bonds of sympathy, without creatingnew ones; and they were discontented, even like children who remember forthe first time that to-day is not yesterday. 

They felt lonely watching the parallel lines of platforms; and whenMontgomery waved his hand for the last time, and the train rolled into theluminous arch of sky that lay beyond the glass roofing, Kate turned awayoverpowered by grief and cruel recollections. When she got home, thesolitude of her room became unbearable; she wanted someone to see, someoneto console her. She had a few shillings in her pocket, but she rememberedher resolutions and for some time resented the impervious clutch of thetemptation. But the sorrow that hung about her, that penetrated like acorrosive acid into the very marrow of her bones, grew momentarily moreburning, more unendurable. Twenty times she tried to wrench it out of herheart. The landlady brought her up some tea; she could not drink it; ittasted like soapsuds in her mouth. Then, knowing well what the resultswould be, she resolved to go out for a walk. 

Next day she was ill, and to pull herself together it was necessary to havea drink. It would not do to look too great a sight in the Solicitor'soffice where Dick had told her in his letter to go to get her money. Thereshe found not two, but five pounds awaiting her, and this enabled her tokeep up a stage of semi intoxication until the end of the week. 

She at last woke up speechless, suffering terrible palpitations of theheart, but she had strength enough to ring her bell, and when the landladycame to her she nearly lost her balance and fell to the ground, sostrenuously did Kate lean and cling to her for support. After gaspingpainfully for some moments Kate muttered: 'I'm dying. These palpitationsand the pain in my side. '

The landlady asked if she would like to see the doctor, and with difficultyobtained her consent that the doctor should be sent for. 

'I'll send at once, ' she said. 

'No, not at once, ' Kate cried. 'Pour me out a little brandy and water, andI'll see how I am in the course of the day. '

The woman did as was desired, and Kate told her that she felt better, andthat if it wasn't for the pains in her side she'd be all right. 

The landlady looked a little incredulous; but her lodger had only been withher a fortnight, and so carefully had the brandy been hidden, and theinebriety concealed, that although she had her doubts, she was not yetsatisfied that Kate was an habitual drunkard. Certainly appearances wereagainst Mrs. Lennox; but as regards the brandy-bottle, she had watched itvery carefully, and was convinced that scarcely more than sixpennyworth ofliquor went out of it daily. The good woman did not know how it wasreplenished from another bottle that came sometimes from under themattress, sometimes out of the chimney. And the disappearance of thehusband was satisfactorily accounted for by the announcement that he hadgone to Manchester to produce a new piece. Besides, Mrs. Lennox was a verynice person; it was a pleasure to attend to her, and during the course ofthe afternoon Mrs. White called several times at the second floor toinquire after her lodger's health. 

But there was no change for the better. Looking the picture ofwretchedness, Kate lay back in her chair, declaring in low moans that shenever felt so ill in her life--that the pain in her side was killing her. Atfirst, Mrs. White seemed inclined to make light of all this complaining, but towards evening she began to grow alarmed, and urged that the doctorshould be sent for. 

'I assure you, ma'am, ' she said, 'it's always better to see a doctor. Themoney is never thrown away; for even if there's nothing serious the matter, it eases one's mind to be told so. '

Kate was generally easy to persuade, but fearing that her secret drinkingwould be discovered, she declined for a long time to take medical advice. At last she was obliged to give way, and the die having been cast, shecommenced to think how she might conceal part of the truth. Something ofthe coquetry of the actress returned to her, and, getting up from herchair, she went over to the glass to examine herself, and brushing back herhair, she said sorrowfully:

'I'm a complete wreck. I can't think what's the matter with me, and I'velost all my hair. You've no idea, Mrs. White, of the beautiful hair I usedto have; it used to fall in armfuls over my shoulders; now, it's no morethan a wisp. '

'I think you've a great deal yet, ' replied Mrs. White, not wishing todiscourage her. 

'And how yellow I am too!'

To this Mrs. White mumbled something that was inaudible, and Kate thoughtsuddenly of her rouge-pot and hare's-foot. Her 'make-up, ' and all herlittle souvenirs of Dick, lay securely packed away in an old band-box. 

'Mrs. White, ' she said, 'might I ask you to get me a jug of hot water?'

When the woman left the room, everything was spread hurriedly over thetoilet-table. To see her, one would have thought that the call-boy hadknocked at the door for the second time. A thin coating of cold cream waspassed over the face and neck; then the powder-puff changed what was yellowinto white, and the hare's-foot gave a bloom to the cheeks. The pencil wasnot necessary, her eyebrows being by nature dark and well-defined. Then alldisappeared again into the band-box, a drain was taken out of the bottlewhilst she listened to steps on the stairs, and she had just time to getback to her chair when the doctor entered. She felt quite prepared toreceive him. Mrs. White, who had come up at the same time, locked uneasilyaround; and, after hesitating about the confines of the room, she put thewater-jug on the rosewood cabinet, and said:

'I think I'll leave you alone with the doctor, ma'am; if you want me you'llring. '

Mr. Hooper was a short, stout man, with a large bald forehead, and longblack hair; his small eyes were watchful as a ferret's, and his fat chubbyhands were constantly laid on his knee-caps. 

'I met Mrs. White's servant in the street, ' he said, looking at Kate as ifhe were trying to read through the rouge on her face, 'so I came at once. Mrs. White, with whom I was speaking downstairs, tells me that you'resuffering from a pain in your side. '

'Yes, doctor, on the right side; and I've not been feeling very welllately. '

'Is your appetite good? Will you let me feel your pulse?'

'No, I've scarcely any appetite at all--particularly in the morning. Ican't touch anything for breakfast. '

'Don't you care to drink anything? Aren't you thirsty?'

Kate would have liked to have told a lie, but fearing that she mightendanger her life by doing so, she answered:

'Oh yes! I'm constantly very thirsty. '

'Especially at night-time?'

It was irritating to have your life read thus; and Kate felt angry when shesaw this dispassionate man watching the brandy-bottle, which she hadforgotten to put away. 

'Do you ever find it necessary to take any stimulant?'

Grasping at the word 'necessary, ' she replied:

'Yes, doctor; my life isn't a very happy one, and I often feel so low, sodepressed as it were, that if I didn't take a little something to keep meup I think I should do away with myself. '

'Your husband is an actor, I believe?'

'Yes; but he's at present up in Manchester, producing a new piece. I'm onthe stage, too. I've been playing a round of leading parts in theprovinces, but since I've been in London I've been out of an engagement. '

'I just asked you because I noticed you used a little powder, you know, onthe face. Of course, I can't judge at present what your complexion is; buthave you noticed any yellowness about the skin lately?'

The first instinct of a woman who drinks is to conceal her vice, andalthough she was talking to a doctor, Kate was again conscious of a feelingof resentment against the merciless eyes which saw through all the secretsof her life. But, cowed, as it were, by the certitude expressed by thedoctor's looks and words, she strove to equivocate, and answered humblythat she noticed her skin was not looking as clear as it used to. Dr. Hooper then questioned her further. He asked if she suffered from a senseof uncomfortable tension, fullness, weight, especially after meals; if shefelt any pain in her right shoulder? and she confessed that he was right inall his surmises. 

'Do tell me, doctor, what is the matter with me. I assure you I'd reallymuch sooner know the worst. '

But the doctor did not seem inclined to be communicative, and in reply toher question he merely mumbled something to the effect that the liver wasout of order. 

'I will send you over some medicine this evening, ' he said, 'and if youdon't feel better to-morrow send round for me, and don't attempt to get up. I think, ' he added, as he took up his hat to go, 'I shall be able to putyou all right. But you must follow my instructions; you mustn't frightenyourself, and take as little of that stimulant as possible. '

Kate answered that it was not her custom to take too much, and she tried tolook surprised at the warning. She nevertheless derived a good deal ofcomfort from the doctor's visit, and during the course of the eveningsucceeded in persuading herself that her fears of the morning wereill-founded and, putting the medicine that was sent her away for thepresent, she helped herself from a bottle that was hidden in theupholstery. The fact of having a long letter to write to Dick explainingher conduct, made it quite necessary that she should take something to keepher up; and sitting in her lonely room, she drank on steadily untilmidnight, when she could only just drag her clothes from her back and throwherself stupidly into bed. There she passed a night full of livid-huednightmares, from which she awoke shivering, and suffering from terriblepalpitations of the heart. The silence of the house filled her withterrors, cold and obtuse as the dreams from which she awakened. Strength toscream for help she had none; and thinking she was going to die, she soughtfor relief and consolation in the bottle that lay hidden under the carpet. When the drink took effect upon her she broke out into a profuseperspiration, and she managed to get a little sleep; but when her breakfastwas brought up about eleven o'clock in the morning, so ill did she seemthat the servant, fearing she was going to drop down dead, begged to beallowed to fetch the doctor. But rejecting all offers of assistance, Katelay moaning in an armchair, unable even to taste the cup of tea that themaid pressed upon her. She consented to take some of the medicines thatwere ordered her, but whatever good they might have produced was discountedby the constant nip-drinking she kept up during the afternoon. The next dayshe was very ill indeed, and Mrs. White, greatly alarmed, insisted onsending for Dr. Hooper. 

He did not seem astonished at the change in his patient. Calmly and quietlyhe watched for some moments in silence. 

The bed had curtains of a red and antiquated material, and these contrastedwith the paleness of the sheets wherein Kate lay, tossing feverishly. Mostof the 'make-up' had been rubbed away from her face; and through patches ofred and white the yellow skin started like blisters. She was slightlydelirious, and when the doctor took her hand to feel her pulse she gazed athim with her big staring eyes and spoke volubly and excitedly. 

'Oh! I'm so glad you've come, for I wanted to speak to you about myhusband. I think I told you that he'd gone to Manchester to produce a newpiece. I don't know if I led you to suppose that he'd deserted me, but if Idid I was wrong to do so, for he has done nothing of the kind. It's truethat we aren't very happy together, but I dare say that is my fault. Inever was, I know, as good a wife to him as I intended to be; but then, hemade me jealous and sometimes I was mad. Yes, I think I must have been madto have spoken to him in the way I did. Anyhow, it doesn't matter now, doesit, doctor? But I don't know what I'm saying. Still, you won't mention thatI've told you anything. It's as likely as not that he'll forgive me, justas he did before; and we may yet be as happy as we were at Blackpool. Youwon't tell him, will you, doctor?'

'No, no, I won't, ' said Dr. Hooper, quietly and firmly. 'But you mustn'ttalk as much as you do; if you want to see your husband, you must get wellfirst. '

'Oh yes! I must get well; but tell me, doctor, how long will that take?'

'Not very long, if you will keep quiet and do what I tell you. I want youto tell me how the pain in your side is?'

'Very bad; far worse than when I saw you last. I feel it now in my rightshoulder as well. '

'But your side--is it sore when you touch it? Will you let me feel?'

Without waiting for a reply, he passed his hand under the sheet. 'Is itthere that it pains you?'

'Yes, yes. Oh! You're hurting me. '

Then the doctor walked aside with the landlady, who had been watching theexamination of the patient with anxious eyes. She said:

'Do you think it's anything very dangerous? Is it contagious? Had I bettersend her to the hospital?'

'No, I should scarcely think it worth while doing that; she will be well ina week, that is to say if she is properly looked after. She's sufferingfrom acute congestion of the liver, brought on by--'

'By drink, ' said Mrs. White. 'I suspected as much. '

'You've too much to do, Mrs. White, with all your children, to give up yourtime to nursing her; I shall send someone round as soon as possible, but, in the meantime, will you see that her diet is regulated to half a cup ofbeef-tea, every hour or so. If she complains of thirst, let her have somemilk to drink, and you may mix a little brandy with it. To-night I shallsend round a sleeping-draught. '

'You're sure, doctor, there is nothing catching, for you know that, withall my children in the house----'

'You need not be alarmed, Mrs. White. '

'But do you think, doctor, it will be an expensive illness? for I know verylittle about her circumstances. '

'I expect she'll be all right in a week or ten days, but what I fear for isher future. I've had a good deal of experience in such matters, and I'venever known a case of a woman who cured herself of the vice ofintemperance. A man sometimes, a woman never. '

The landlady sighed and referred to all she had gone through during poorMr. White's lifetime; the doctor spoke confidingly of a lady who was atpresent under his charge; and, apparently overcome with pity for sufferinghumanity, they descended the staircase together. On the doorstep theconversation was continued. 

'Very well, then, doctor, I will take your advice; but at the end of a weekor so, when she is quite recovered, I shall tell her that I've let herrooms. For, as you say, a woman rarely cures herself, and before thechildren the example would be dreadful. '

'I expect to see her on her feet in about that time, then you can do as youplease. I shall call tomorrow. '

Next day the professional nurse took her place by the bedside. The sinapismwhich the doctor ordered was applied to the hepatic region, and a smalldose of calomel was administered. 

Under this treatment she improved rapidly; but unfortunately, as her healthreturned her taste for drink increased in a like proportion. Indeed, it wasalmost impossible to keep her from it, and on one occasion she tried verycunningly to outwit the nurse, who had fallen asleep in her chair. Waitingpatiently until the woman's snoring had become sufficiently regular towarrant the possibility of a successful attempt being made on thebrandy-bottle, Kate slipped noiselessly out of bed. The unseen night-lightcast a rosy glow over the convex side of the basin, without, however, disturbing the bare darkness of the wall, Kate knew that all the bottlesstood in a line upon the chest of drawers, but it was difficult todistinguish one from the other, and the jingling she made as she fumbledamid them awoke the nurse, who divining at once what was happening, arosequickly from her chair and advancing rapidly towards her, said:

'No, ma'am, I really can't allow it; it's against the doctor's orders. '

'I'm not going to die of thirst to please any doctor. I was only going totake a little milk, I suppose there's no harm in that?'

'Not the least, ma'am, and if you'd called me you should have had it. '

It was owing to this fortuitous intervention that when Dr. Hooper called acouple of days after to see his patient he was able to certify to aremarkable change for the better in her. All the distressing symptoms haddisappeared; the pain in her side had died away; the complexion wasclearer. He therefore thought himself justified in ordering for her lunch alittle fish and some weak brandy and water; and to Kate, who had not eatenany solid food for several days, this first meal took the importance of avery exceptional event. Sitting by her bedside Dr. Hooper spoke to her. 

'Now, Mrs. Lennox, ' he said, 'I want to give you a word of warning. I'veseen you through what I must specify as a serious illness; dangerous I willnot call it, although I might do so if I were to look into the future andanticipate the development the disease will most certainly take, unless, indeed, you will be guided by me, and make a vow against all intoxicatingliquors. '

At this direct allusion to her vice Kate stopped eating, and putting downthe fork looked at the doctor. 

'Now, Mrs. Lennox, you mustn't be angry, ' he continued in his kind way. 'I'm speaking to you in my capacity as a medical man, and I must warn youagainst the continuous nip-drinking which, of course, I can see you're inthe habit of indulging in, and which was the cause of the illness fromwhich you are recovering. I will not harrow your feelings by referring toall the cases that have come under my notice where shame, disgrace, ruin, and death were the result of that one melancholy failing--drink. '

'Oh, sir!' cried Kate, broken-hearted, 'if you only knew how unhappy I'vebeen, how miserable I am, you would not speak to me so. I've my failing, itis true, but I'm driven to it. I love my husband better than anything inthe world, and I see him mixed up always with a lot of girls at thetheatre, and it sends me mad, and then I go to drink so as to forget. '

'We've all got our troubles; but it doesn't relieve us of the burden; itonly makes us forget it for a short time, and then, when consciousnessreturns to us, we only remember it all the more bitterly. No, Mrs. Lennox, take my advice. In a few days, when you're well, go to your husband, demandhis forgiveness, and resolve then never to touch spirits again. '

'It's very good of you to speak to me in this way, ' said Kate, tearfully, 'and I will take your advice, The very first day that I am strong enough towalk down to the Strand I will go and see my husband, and if he will giveme another trial, he will not, I swear to you, have cause to repent it. Oh!' she continued, 'you don't know how good he's been to me, how he hasborne with me. If it hadn't been that he tried my temper by flirting withother women we might have been happy now. '

Then, as Kate proceeded to speak of her trials and temptations, she grewmore and more excited and hysterical, until the doctor, fearing that shewould bring on a relapse, was forced to plead an engagement and wish hergood-bye. 

As he left the room she cried after him, 'The first day I'm well enough togo out I'll go and see my husband. '

XXIX

The next few days passed like dreams. Kate's soul, tense with the longingfor reconciliation, floated at ease over the sordid miseries that laywithin and without her, and enraptured with expectation, she lived in abeautiful paradise of hope. 

So certain did she feel of being able to cross out the last few years ofher life, that her mind was scarcely clouded by a doubt of the possibilityof his declining to forgive her--that he might even refuse to see her. Theold days seemed charming to her, and looking back, even she seemed to havebeen perfect then. There her life appeared to have begun. She never thoughtof Hanley now. Ralph and Mrs. Ede were like dim shadows that had no concernin her existence. The potteries and the hills were as the recollections ofchildhood, dim and unimportant. The footlights and the applause ofaudiences were also dying echoes in her ears. Her life for the moment wasconcentrated in a loving memory of a Lancashire seashore and arose-coloured room, where she used to sit on the knees of the man sheadored. The languors and the mental weakness of convalescence wereconducive to this state of mental exaltation. She loved him better thananyone else could love him; she would never touch brandy again. He wouldtake her back, and they would live as the lovers did in all the novels shehad ever read. These illusions filled Kate's mind like a scarf of whitemist hanging around the face of a radiant morning, and as she lay back amidthe pillows, or sat dreaming by the fireside in the long evenings that wereno longer lonely to her, she formed plans, and considered how she shouldplead to Dick in this much-desired interview. During this period dozens ofletters were written and destroyed, and it was not until the time arrivedfor her to go to the theatre to see him that she could decide upon what shecould write. Then hastily she scribbled a note, but her hand trembled somuch that before she had said half what she intended the paper was coveredwith blotched and blurred lines. 

'It won't do to let him think I'm drunk again, ' she said to herself, as shethrew aside what she had written and read over one of her previous efforts. It ran as follows:

'MY DARLING DICK, --

'You will, I am sure, be sorry to hear that I have been very ill. I am now, however, much better; indeed, I may say quite recovered. During my illnessI have been thinking over our quarrels, and I now see how badly, howwickedly, I have behaved to you on many occasions. I do not know, and Iscarcely dared to hope, that you will ever forgive me, but I trust that youwill not refuse to see me for a few minutes. I have not, I assure you, tasted spirits for some weeks, so you need not fear I will kick up a row. Iwill promise to be very quiet. I will not reproach you, nor get excited, nor raise my voice. I shall be very good, and will not detain you but for avery short time. You will not, you cannot, oh, my darling! deny me this onelittle request--to see you again, although only for a few minutes. 

'Your affectionate wife, 'KATE'

Compared with the fervid thoughts of her brain, these words appeared to herweak and poor, but feeling that for the moment, at least, she could not addto their intensity, she set out on her walk, hoping to find her husband atthe theatre. 

It was about eight o'clock in the evening. A light, grey fog hung over thebackground of the streets, and the line of the housetops was almost lost inthe morose shadows that fell from a soot-coloured sky. Here and there achimney-stack or the sharp spire of a church tore the muslin-like curtainsof descending mist; and vague as the mist were her thoughts. The streetstwisted, wriggling their luminous way through slime and gloom, whilst atevery turning the broad, flaring windows of the public-houses marked theEnglish highway. But Kate paid no attention to the red-letteredtemptations. Docile and hopeful as a tired animal thinking of its stable, she walked through the dark crowd that pressed upon her, nor did she evennotice when she was jostled, but went on, a heedless nondescript--asomething in a black shawl and a quasi-respectable bonnet, a slipperystepping-stone between the low women who whispered and the workwoman whohurried home with the tin of evening beer in her hand. Like one held andguided by the power of a dream, she lost consciousness of all that was notof it. Thoughts of how Dick would receive her and forgive her were folded, entangled and broken within narrow limits of time; half an hour passed likea minute, and she found herself at the stage-door of the theatre. Drawingthe letter from her pocket, she said to the hall-keeper:

'Will you kindly give Mr. Lennox this letter? Has he arrived yet?'

'Yes, but he's busy for the moment. But, ' the man added, as he examinedKate's features narrowly, 'you'll excuse me, I made a mistake; Mr. Lennoxisn't in the theatre. '

At that moment the swinging door was thrust open, and the call-boyscreamed:

'Mr. Lennox says you're not to let Miss Thomas pass to-night, and if thereare any letters for him I'm to take them in. '

'Here's one; will you give it to Mr. Lennox?' said Kate, eagerly thrustingforward her note. 'Say that I'm waiting for an answer. '

The stage-door keeper tried to interpose, but before he could explainhimself the boy had rushed away. 

'All letters should be given to me, ' he growled as he turned away to arguewith Miss Thomas, who had just arrived. In a few minutes the call-boy cameback. 

'Will you please step this way, ' he said to Kate. 

'No, you shan't, ' cried the hall-keeper; 'if you try any nonsense with me Ishall send round for a policeman. '

Kate started back frightened, thinking these words were addressed to her, but a glance showed her that she was mistaken. 

'Oh! how dare you talk to me like that? You're an unsophisticated beast!'cried Miss Thomas. 

'Pass under my arm, ma'am, ' said the hall-keeper; 'I don't want this one toget through. ' And amid a storm of violent words and the strains of distantmusic Kate went up a narrow staircase that creaked under the weight of agroup of girls in strange dresses. When she got past them she saw Dick atthe door of his room waiting for her. The table was covered with letters, the walls with bills announcing, 'a great success. '

He took her hand and placed her in a chair, and at first it seemed doubtfulwho would break an awkward and irritating silence. At last Dick said:

'I'm sorry to hear, Kate, that you've been ill; you're looking well now. '

'Yes, I'm better now, ' she replied drearily; 'but perhaps if I'd died itwould have been as well, for you can never love me again. '

'You know, my dear, ' he said, equivocating, 'that we didn't get on welltogether. '

'Oh, Dick! I know it. You were very good to me, and I made your lifewretched on account of my jealousy; but I couldn't help it, for I loved youbetter than a woman ever loved a man. I cannot tell you, I cannot findwords to express how much I love you; you're everything to me. I lived foryour love; I'm dying of it. Yes, Dick, I'm dying for love of you; I feel ithere; it devours me like a fire, and what is so strange is, that nothingseems real to me except you. I never think of anything but of things thatconcern you. Anything that ever belonged to you I treasure up as a relic. You know the chaplet of pearls I used to wear when we played _The LoversKnot_. Well, I have them still, although all else has gone from me. Thestring was broken once or twice, and some of the pearls were lost, but Ithreaded them again, and it still goes round my neck. I was looking at themthe other day, and it made me very sad, for it made me think of the happydays--ah, the very happy days!--we have had together before I took to ----. But I won't speak of that. I've cured myself. Yes, I assure you, Dick, I'vecured myself; and it is for that I've come to talk to you. Were I not surethat I would never touch brandy again I would not ask you to take me back, but I'd sooner die than do what I have done, for I know that I never will. Can you--will you--my own darling Dick, give me another trial?'

The victory hung in the balance, but at that moment a superb girl, in allthe splendour of long green tights, and resplendent with breastplate andspear, flung open the door. 

'Look here, Dick, ' she began, but seeing Kate, she stopped short, andstammered out an apology. 

'I shall be down on the stage in a minute, dear, ' he said, rising from hischair. The door was shut, and they were again alone; but Kate felt thatchance had gone against her. The interruption had, with a sudden shock, killed the emotions she had succeeded in awakening, and had supplied Dickwith an answer that would lead him, by a way after his own heart, straightout of his difficulty. 

'My dear, ' he said, rising from his chair, 'I'm glad you've given upthe--you know what--for, between you and me, that was the cause of all ourtrouble; but, candidly speaking, I don't think it would be advisable for usto live together, at least for the present, and I'll tell you why. I knowthat you love me very much, but, as you said yourself just now, it's yourjealousy and the drink together that excites you, and leads up to thoseterrible rows. Now, the best plan would be for us to live apart, let us sayfor six months or so, until you've entirely got over your little weakness, you know; and then--why, then we'll be as happy as we used to be atBlackpool in the dear old times long ago. '

'Oh, Dick! don't say that I must wait six months; I might be dead beforethen. But you're not speaking the truth to me. You were just going to saythat I might come back to you when the horrid girl came in. I know. Yes, Ibelieve there's something between you. '

'Now, Kate, remember your promise not to kick up a row. I consented to seeyou because you said you wouldn't be violent. Here's your letter. '

'I'm not going to be violent, Dick; but six months seems such a long time. '

'It won't be as long passing as you think. And now I must run away; they'rewaiting for me on the stage. Have you seen the piece? Would you like to goin front?'

'No, not to-night, Dick; I feel too sad. But won't you kiss me before Igo?'

Dick bent his face and kissed her; but there was a chill in the kiss thatwent to her heart, and she felt that his lips would never touch hers again. But she had no protest to make, and almost in silence she allowed herselfto be shown out of the theatre. When she got into the mist she shivered alittle, and drew her thin shawl tighter about her thin shoulders, and, withone of the choruses still ringing in her ears, she walked in the directionof the Strand. Somehow her sorrow did not seem too great for her to bear. The interview had passed neither as badly nor as well as had been expected, and thinking of the six months of probation that lay before her, butwithout being in the least able to realize their meaning, she walkeddreaming through the sloppy, fog-smelling streets. The lamps were now butlike furred patches of yellow laid on a dead grey background, and amud-bespattered crowd rolled in and out of the darkness. The roofs overheadwere engulfed in the soot-coloured sky that seemed to be descending on theheads of the passengers. Men passed carrying parcels; the white necktie ofa theatre-goer was caught sight of. From Lambeth, from Islington, fromPimlico, from all the dark corners where it had been lurking in thedaytime, prostitution at the fading of the light, had descended on thetown--portly matrons, very respectable in brown silk dresses and veils, stood in the corners of alleys and dingy courts, scorned by the youngergeneration; young girls of fifteen and sixteen going by in couples withwisps of dyed hair hanging about their shoulders, advertisements of theirage; the elder taking the responsibility of choosing; Germans in longulsters trafficked in guttural intonations; policemen on their beats couldhave looked less concerned. The English hung round the public-houses, enviously watching the arched insteps of the Frenchwomen tripping by. Smiles there were plenty, but the fog was so thick that even the Parisianslost their native levity and wished themselves back in Paris. 

At the crossing of Wellington Street she stumbled against a small man wholeaned against a doorway coughing violently. They stared at each other inprofound astonishment, and then Kate said in a pained and broken voice:

'Oh, Ralph! is it you?'

'Yes, indeed it is. But to think of meeting you here in London!'

They had, for the second, in a sort of way, forgotten that they had oncebeen man and wife, and after a pause Kate said:

'But that's just what I was thinking. What are you doing in London?'

Ralph was about to answer when he was cut short by a fit of coughing. Hishead sank into his chest, and his little body was shaken until it seemed asif it were going to break to pieces like a bundle of sticks. Kate looked athim pityingly, and passing unconsciously over the dividing years just asshe might have done when they kept shop together in Hanley, she said:

'Oh! you know you shouldn't stop out in such weather as this: you'll bebreathless to-morrow. '

'Oh no, I shan't; I've got a new remedy. But I've lost my way; that's thereason why I'm so late. '

'Perhaps I can tell you. Where are you staying?'

'In an hotel in Bedford Street, near Covent Garden. '

'Well, then, this is your way; you've come too far. '

And passing again into the jostling crowd they walked on in silence side byside. A slanting cloud of fog had drifted from the river down into thestreet, creating a shivering and terrifying darkness. The cabs moved atwalking pace, the huge omnibuses stopped belated, and their advertisementscould not be read even when a block occurred close under a gas-lamp. Thejewellers' windows emitted the most light; but even gold and silver waresseemed to have become tarnished in the sickening atmosphere. Then the smellfrom fishmongers' shops grew more sour as the assistant piled up thelobsters and flooded the marbles preparatory to closing; and, just withinthe circle of vision, inhaling the greasy fragrance of soup, a woman in ablue bonnet loitered near a grating. 

'This is Bedford Street, I think, ' said Kate, 'but it's so dark that it'simpossible to see. '

'I suppose you know London well?' replied Ralph somewhat pointedly. 

'Pretty well, I've been here now for some time. '

For the last three or four minutes not a word had been spoken. Kate wassurprised that Ralph was not angry with her; she wanted to speak to him ofold times, but it was hard to break the ice of intervening years. At last, as they stopped before the door of a small family hotel, he said:

'It's now something like four years since we parted, ain't it?'

The question startled her, and she answered nervously and hurriedly:

'I suppose it is, but I'd better wish you good-bye now--you're safe athome. '

'Oh no! come in; you look so very tired, a glass of wine will do you good. Besides, what harm? Wasn't I your husband once?'

'Oh, Ralph! how can you?'

'Why, there's no reason why I shouldn't hear how you've been getting on. We're just like strangers, so many things have occurred; I've marriedsince--but perhaps you didn't hear of it?'

'Married! Who did you marry?'

'Well! I married your assistant, Hender. '

'What, Hender your wife?' said Kate, with an intonation of voice that wasfull of pain. A dagger thrust suddenly through her side as she went up thestaircase could not have wounded her more cruelly than the news that thewoman who had been her assistant now owned the house that once was hers. The story of the dog in the manger is as old as the world. 

Through the windows of the little public sitting-room nothing was visible;everything was shrouded in the yellow curtain of fog. A commercialtraveller had drawn off his boots, and was warming his slippered feet bythe fire. 

'Dreadful weather, sir, ' said the man. 'I'm afraid it won't do your coughmuch good. Will you come near the fire?'

'Thank you, ' said Ralph. 

Kate mechanically drew forward a chair. It would be impossible for them tosay a word, for the traveller was evidently inclined to be garrulous, andboth wondered what they should do; but at that moment the chambermaid cameto announce that the gentleman's room was ready. He took up his boots andretired, leaving the two, who had once been husband and wife, alone; andyet it seemed as difficult as ever to speak of what was uppermost in theirminds. Kate helped Ralph off with his great-coat, and she noticed that helooked thinner and paler. The servant brought up two glasses of grog, andwhen Kate had taken off her bonnet, she said: 'Do you think I'm muchaltered?'

'Well, since you ask me, Kate, I must say I don't think you're looking verywell. You're thinner than you used to be, and you've lost a good deal ofyour hair. '

'I've only just recovered from a bad illness, ' she said, sighing, and asshe raised the glass to her lips the gaslight defined the whole contour ofher head. The thick hair that used to encircle her pale prominent templeslike rich velvet, looked now like a black silk band frayed and whitened atthe seam. 

'But what have you been doing? Have things gone pretty well with you?' saidRalph, whose breath came from him in a thin but continuous whistle. 'Whathappened when I got my decree of divorce?'

'Nothing particular for a while, but afterwards we were married. '

'Oh!' said Ralph, 'so he married you, did he? Well, I shouldn't haveexpected it of him. So we're both married. Isn't it odd? And meeting, too, in this way. '

'Yes, many things have happened since then. I've been on thestage--travelling all over England. '

'What! you on the stage, Kate?' said Ralph, lifting his head from his hand. 'Oh lord! oh lord! how--Ha! ha! oh! but I mustn't la-ugh; I won't be ableto breathe. '

Kate turned to him almost angrily, and the ghost of the prima donnaawakening in her, she said:

'I don't see what there is to laugh at. I've played all the leading parts, and in all the principal towns in England--Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds. The Newcastle Chronicle said my Serpolette was the best they'd seen. '

Ralph looked bewildered, like a man blinded for a moment by a sudden flashof lightning. He could not at once realize that this woman, who had beenhis wife, who had washed and scrubbed in his little home in Hanley, was nowone of those luminous women who, in clear skirts and pink stockings, wandersinging beautiful songs, amid illimitable forests and unscalable mountains. For a moment he regretted he had married Miss Hender. 

'But I don't think I shall ever act again. '

'How's that?' he said with an intonation of disappointment in his voice. 

'I don't know, ' said Kate. 'I'm not living with my husband now, and Ihaven't the courage to look out for an engagement myself. '

Ralph stared at her vaguely. 'Look out for an engagement?' he repeated tohimself; it seemed to him that he must be dreaming. 

'Aren't you happy with him? Doesn't he treat you well?' said Ralph, dropping perforce from his dream back into reality, 'Oh yes, he has always been very good to me. I can't say how it was, butsomehow after a time we didn't get on. I dare say it was my fault. But howdo you get on with Miss Hender?' said Kate, partly from curiosity, halffrom a wish to change the conversation. 

'Oh, pretty well, ' said Ralph, with something that sounded, in spite of hiswheezing, like a sigh. 

'How does she manage the dressmaking? She was always a good workwoman, butshe never had much taste, and I should fancy wouldn't be able to do much ifleft entirely to herself. '

'That's just what occurred. It's curious you should have guessed socorrectly. The business has all gone to the dogs, and since mother's deathwe've turned the house into a lodging-house. '

'And is mother dead?' cried Kate, clasping her hands. 'What must she havethought of me. '

Ralph did not answer, but after a long silence he said:

'It's a pity, ain't it, that we didn't pull it off better together?'

Kate raised her head and looked at him quickly. Her look was full ofgratitude. 

'Yes, ' she said, 'I behaved very badly towards you, but I believe I've beenpunished for it. '

'You told me that he married you and treated you very well. '

'Oh!' she said, bursting into tears, 'don't ask me, it's too long a story;I'll tell you another time, but not now. '

It appeared to Kate that her heart was on fire and that she must die ofgrief. 'Was this life?' she asked herself. Oh, to be at rest and out of theway for ever! Ralph, too, seemed deeply affected; after a pause he said:

'I don't know how it was, or why, but now I come to think of it I rememberthat I used to be cross with you. '

'It was the asthma that made you cross, and well it might;' and she askedhim if he still suffered from asthma, and he answered:

'At times, yes. '

'But the cigarettes, ' she said, 'used to relieve you; do you still smokethem?'

'Yes, and sometimes they relieve me and sometimes they don't. ' A longsilence separated them, and breaking it suddenly he said:

'There were faults on both sides. On every side, ' he added, 'for I don'texempt mother from blame either. She was always too hard upon you. Now, Ishould never have minded your going to the theatre and amusing yourself. Ishouldn't have minded your being an actress, and I should have gone tofetch you home every evening. '

Kate smiled through her misery, and he continued, following his idea to theend:

'It wouldn't have interfered with the business if you had been; on thecontrary, it would have brought us a connection, and I might have had upthose plate-glass windows, and taken in the fruiterer's shop. '

Ralph stopped. The roar of London had sunk out of hearing in the yellowdepths of the fog, and for some minutes nothing was heard but the shortticking of the clock. It was a melancholy pleasure to dream what might havebeen had things only taken a different turn, and like children makingmud-pies it amused them to rebuild the little fabric of their lives; whilstone reconstructed his vision of broken glass, the other lamented over theruins of penny journal sentiment. Then awakening by fits and starts, eachconfided in the other. Ralph told Kate how Mrs. Ede had spoken of her whenher flight had been discovered; Kate tried to explain that she was not asmuch to blame as might be imagined. Ralph's curiosity constantly got thebetter of him, and he couldn't but ask her to tell him something about herstage experience. One thing led to another, and before twelve o'clock itsurprised her to think she had told him so much. 

The conversation was carried on in brief and broken phrases. The man andthe woman sat close together shivering over the fire. There were nocurtains to the windows, and the fog had crept through the sashes into theroom. Kate coughed from time to time--a sharp, hacking cough--and Ralph'swheezing grew thicker in sound. 

'I'm a-fraid I shall have a b-bad night, this dre-ad-ful weather. '

'I should like to stop to nurse you; but I must be getting home. '

'You surely won't think of going out such a night as this; you'll neverfind your way home. '

'Yes, yes, I shall; it wouldn't do for me to remain here. '

They who had once been husband and wife looked at each other, and bothsmiled painfully. 

'Ve-ry well, I'll see you do-wnstairs. '

'Oh no! you mustn't, you'll kill yourself!'

Ralph, however, insisted. They stood on the doorstep for a moment together, suffocating in a sulphur-hued atmosphere. 

'You'll come a-nd and see me again to-to-morrow, won't you?'

'Yes, yes!' cried Kate; 'to-morrow! to-morrow!' and she disappeared in thedarkness. 

XXX

But on the morrow she could not leave her room, and at the end of the weekthe news at the Bedford Hotel was that Mr. Ede had gone away the day beforewithout leaving any message. 

The porter who informed her of his departure looked her over curiously, setting her thinking that he thought Mr. Ede had done well to get clear ofthe likes of her. She had tried to make herself look tidy and thought shehad succeeded, but tidy or untidy, it was all the same, nothing matterednow; she was done for. No doubt the porter was right; Ralph had gone awayto escape from her, which was just as well, for what more had they to sayto each other: hadn't he married Hender? And passing in front of ashop-window she caught sight of herself in a looking-glass. 'Not up tomuch, ' she said, and passed on into the Strand mumbling her misfortunes andcausing the passers-by to look after her. She had not pinned up her skirtsafely, a foot of it dragged over the pavement, and hearing jeering voicesbehind her she went into a public-house to ask for a pin. The barmaidobliged her with one, and while arranging her skirt she heard a man say:'Well, they that talk of the evil of drinking know very little of what theyare talking about. Drink has saved as many men as it has killed. ' Kate'sheart warmed to the man, for she knew a glass had often saved her frommaking away with herself, but never had she felt more like the river in herlife than she did that morning. Threepennyworth would be enough, she couldnot afford more; Dick was only allowing her two pounds a week, and a womanhad to look after the thirty-nine shillings very strictly to find thefortieth in her pocket before her next week's money was due. She feltbetter after having her glass; her thoughts were no longer on the riverlying at the end of Wellington Street, but on the passengers in the Strand, the swaggering mummers, male and female; the men with lordly airs andbillycock hats; the women with yellow hair and unholy looks upon theirfaces. There were groups of men and women round a theatrical agent's placeof business, all sorts of people coming and going; lawyers from the Temple, journalists on their way to Fleet Street; prostitutes of all kinds and allsorts, young and old, fat and thin, of all nationalities, French, Belgian, and German, went by in couples, in rows, their eyes flaming invitations. Children with orange coloured hair sold matches and were followed downsuspicious alleys; a strange hurried life, full of complexity, had begun inthe twilight before the lamplighters went by. Girls and boys scrambledafter each other quarrelling and selling newspapers. The spectacle helpedthe time away between four o'clock and seven. At seven she turned into someeating-house and dined for a shilling, and afterwards there was nothing todo than wander in the Strand. Some of the women who preferred to pick up aliving by the sale of their lips rather than by standing for hours over astinking wash-tub were very often kindly human beings, and there was nobodyelse except these street-walkers with whom she could exchange a few wordsand invite into a drinking shop for a glass. Over the counter she relatedher successes as Clairette in _Madame Angot_ and Serpolette in _LesCloches de Corneville_, and if an incredulous look came into the facesof her guests she sang to them the little ditties, proving by her knowledgeof them that all she told them was true. From the drinking-shop they passedout in groups, and these women took Kate to their eating-houses, and shelistened to their stories, and when at the end of the week she had spentall her money sometimes these women lent her shillings and half-crowns, andwhen she could not return the money she had borrowed they asked her: 'Whydon't you do as we do?'

Her pretty face of former days was almost gone by this time, but traces ofit still remained. 'If you would only dress yourself a little morebecomingly and come along with us, you would be able to make two ends meet. With what you get from your husband you would be better off than any ofus. ' But she could not be persuaded, and as time moved on, and drunkennessbecame more inveterate, the belief that she was not utterly lost unless shewas unfaithful to Dick took possession of her, and she clung to it with analmost desperate insistency, saying to her friends, 'If I were to do that Ishould go down to the river and drown myself. ' She used to hear laughterwhen she said these words, and the replies were that every woman had saidthe same thing: 'But we all come to it sooner or later. ' 'Not me, not me!'she replied, tottering out of the public-house. But one night, awakening inthe dusk between daylight and dark, she remembered that something hadbefallen her that had never befallen her before. She was not sure, it mayhave been that she had dreamed it. All the same, she could not rid herselfof the idea that last night in the public-house near Charing Cross a manhad come in and said he would pay for the drinks, and that afterwards shehad gone to one of the hotels in Villiers Street. If she hadn't why did shethink of Villiers Street? She rarely went down that street. Yet she washaunted by a memory, a hateful memory that had kept her awake, and hadcaused her to moan and to cry for hours, till at last sleep fell upon her. On waking her first thought was to inquire from the women, and she walkedup and down the Strand seeking them till nightfall. But they could tell hernothing of what had happened after she left them, 'Dry your eyes, Kate, 'they said. 'What matter? Your husband deserted you; aren't you free to livewith whom you please?'

Kate felt that all they said was true enough, but she prayed that thememory of the hotel bedroom that had risen up in her mind was the memory ofa dream, and not of something that had befallen her in her waking senses. It were bad enough that she should have dreamed such a thing, and onreturning home she fell on her knees and prayed that what she feared hadbeen, had not been; and she rose from her knees, her eyes full of tears, and a sort of leaden despair in her heart that she felt would never passaway. 

As the days went by her mind became denser, she fell into obtusities out ofwhich she found it difficult to rouse herself. Even her violent temperseemed to leave her, and miserable and hopeless she rolled from one lodgingto another, drinking heavily, bringing the drink back with her and drinkingin her bed until her hand was too unsteady to pour out another glass ofwhisky. She drank whisky, brandy, gin, and if she couldn't get these, anyother spirit would serve her purpose, even methylated spirit. 

Her bed-curtains were taken away by the landlady lest Kate should set themon fire. The landlady lit the gas at nightfall and turned it out before shewent to bed--'Only in that way, ' she said to herself, 'can we be sure thatthat woman won't burn us all to death in our beds. Once a room is let, ' shecontinued, 'it's hard to turn a sick woman out, especially if there's noexcuse, and in this case there's none. For you see, Mrs. Lennox is gettingtwo pounds a week from her husband, ' Mr. Locker, Mrs. Rawson's eveningfriend, agreed with her; and he spoke of the recompense she would beentitled to from Mr. Lennox in the event of Mrs. Lennox's death; 'for, ofcourse, every trouble and annoyance should be recompensed. ' She agreed withhim; but her eyes suddenly softening, she said: 'I haven't seen her sincethis morning when I took her up a cup of tea. She may like a bit of dinner. We're having some rabbit for supper, I'll ask her if she'd like a piece. '

A few minutes later she returned saying she was afraid Mrs. Lennox wasdying, and that it might be as well to send to the hospital. Lockeranswered that perhaps it would be just as well, but on second thoughts hesuggested that the husband should be communicated with. 

'It isn't far to the Opéra Comique, ' Mrs. Rawson answered, 'I'll just puton my hat and jacket and go round there. '

'It'll be the best way to escape responsibility, ' Locker said on thedoorstep; but without answering she went up the Strand, passing over to theother side when she came in sight of the Globe Theatre. 

'Where's the stage entrance of the Opéra Comique?' she asked at thebookstall at the corner of Holliwell Street, and was told that she wouldfind the stage entrance in Wytch Street, about half-way down the street. 'The stage-doors of the Globe and the Opéra Comique are side by side, ' wascried after her. 'What does he mean by half-way down the street, ' shemuttered; 'he meant a quarter down, ' and she addressed herself to thedoor-keeper, who answered surlily that Mr. Lennox was particularly engagedat that moment, but at Mrs. Rawson's words--'I believe his wife isdying'--he agreed to send up a message as soon as he could get hold ofsomebody to take it. At last somebody's dresser was stopped as he was aboutto pass through the swing-door; he agreed to take the message, and a fewminutes after Mrs. Rawson was conducted up several little staircases anddown some passages to find herself eventually in a small room in whichthere were three people, one a pleasant-faced man, so affable and kind thatMrs. Rawson thought she could have got on with him very well if she had hada chance. By him stood a tall imperious lady who rustled a voluminousskirt--a person of importance, Mrs. Rawson judged her to be from thedeference with which a little thread-paper-man listened to her--thecostumier, she learnt from scraps of conversation. 

'I'm sorry, ' Mr. Lennox said. 'All you tell me is very sad. But I'm afraidI can do nothing. '

'That's what I think myself, ' Mrs. Rawson answered. 'I'm afraid there'snothing to be done, but I thought I'd better come and tell you. You see, when I went up with some beef-tea she looked to me like one that hadn'tmany days to live. I may be mistaken, of course. '

'She should have a nurse, ' Mrs. Forest said. 

'I do all I can for her, ' Mrs. Rawson murmured, 'but you see with threechildren to look after and only one maid, '--the two women began to talktogether and the thread-paper man took advantage of the opportunity towhisper to Dick that he thought he could manage to do the flower-girls'dresses at five shillings less. 

'That will be all right, ' Dick replied. 'I will call round in the morning, Mr. Shaffle. '

Mrs. Forest held out her jacket to Dick, who helped her into it. 

'Where are you going ... Shall you be coming back again?' he asked. 

'I'm going to nurse your wife, Dick, ' she said, picking up her long featherboa, 'and isn't all that is happening now a vindication that we did wellnot to yield ourselves to ourselves?--for had we done so our regrets wouldbe now unanimous, and I shouldn't be able to go to her with clearconscience.... She's been drinking heavily again, no doubt, ' Mrs. Forestsaid, turning to Mrs. Rawson. 'But we mustn't judge or condemn anyone, soJesus hath said. I'll go with you now, Mrs. Rawson, and you'll perhaps cometo-morrow, Dick, to see her?'

'If I could help my wife I'd go, Laura, but as I've often told you, my willto help her was spent long ago; it would be of no use. ' Laura's eyes lit upfor a moment. 'But if she asks to see me I'll go. ' At these words Mrs. Forest's eyes softened, and he began to ask himself how much truth therewas in Laura's resolve to go and attend upon his wife in what was no doubta last agony. Seeing and hearing her put into his head remembrances of anactress, he could not remember which. Her demeanour was as lofty as any andher speech almost rose into blank verse at times; and he began to thinkthat she had missed her vocation in life. It might have been that she wasdestined by nature for the stage. 'She's more mummer than myself or Kate, 'he said to himself, and giving an ear to her outpourings, he recognized inthem the rudiments of the grand style: and he admired her transitions--hervoice would drop and she seemed to find her way back into homely speech. Her soul seemed to pass back and forwards easily, and Dick did not feelsure which was the real woman and which the fictitious. 'She doesn't knowherself, ' he said, for at that moment she had left the tripod and wassitting in imagination at the bedside in attendance, looking from thepatient to the clock, administering the medicine on the exact time. 

When Mrs. Rawson spoke about the length of the day and night she answeredthat she would take her work with her, and bade Dick not to be anxiousabout the changes he had asked her to make in the second act. 'They shallbe made, ' she said, 'and without laying myself open to any claim fordemurrage. '

'Demurrage' Dick exclaimed. 

'She shall have attendance, but a soul ready to depart shouldn't bedetained in port longer than is necessary. And Mrs. Rawson would like tolet her room to one who has not received her sailing orders, as is the casewith your poor wife, Dick, --that is to say, if I understand Mrs. Rawson'saccount of her illness. '

'She's not here for long, ' Mrs. Rawson answered; 'but you mustn't think, ma'am, that I'd lay any under claim for the trouble she's been to me, onlywhat is fair. "Fair is fair all the world over, " has been my maxim eversince I started letting apartments. But perhaps, ma'am, you'll be wanting aroom in my house. If you do there's the drawing-room floor, which wouldsuit you nicely. But you can't be day nurse and night nurse yourself. 'Laura answered that that was true, and talking of a nurse from CharingCross Hospital they went out of the house together. At the end of thestreet Laura stopped suddenly. 'But she must have a doctor, ' she said, andwaited for Mrs. Rawson to recommend one, and Mrs. Rawson replied that thedoctor that attended her and her children was out of town. 

'We will ask here, ' Laura said, and called to the cabby to stop at theapothecary's, and the questions she put to the man behind the counter wereso pertinent that Mrs. Rawson began to think that perhaps she had misjudgedMrs. Forest, who now seemed to her a sensible and practical woman. Theyjumped again into a cab, and after a short drive returned with a doctor, Laura relating to him in the cab all they knew about his patient. 

'From what you tell me it seems a bad case, ' he said, and turning fromLaura to Mrs. Rawson he asked her to describe the patient. 

'When I took up the beef-tea I found her that bad that I felt that I'dalways have it on my conscience if I didn't let her husband know how badhis wife was----'

'I'm afraid, doctor, that she's been drinking for years, ' Laurainterjected. 

'Well, as soon as I see Mrs. Lennox I shall be able to tell you if there isin my opinion any reasonable hope of saving her. I believe you're going tonurse Mrs. Lennox through this illness?' he asked Laura, and she began totell him how she had always known of this duty: years before she had evermet Mr. Lennox it had been revealed to her--not the exact time, but thefact that she would have to attend upon the wife of some man who would beengaged in the publication of some of her works. 'You see, her husband isproducing my play _Incarnation_ at the Opéra Comique, and I've broughtsome of my work with me. ' She opened her bag and laid on the table themanuscript entitled _Sayings of the Sybil_, and the doctor listened atfirst not satisfied that she was altogether the nurse into whose charge hewould have liked to have given Mrs. Lennox; but feeling that, if he were topress the necessity of a nurse on Mrs. Forest, she might leave, herefrained, thinking that very often people who talked eccentrically werevery practical. He had known extravagant speech go with practical nursing, and hoping that Mrs. Forest would prove another such one, he laid down themanuscript on the table. 

'But if you believe that we live hereafter, why should you denypre-existence?' and without waiting for the doctor to answer, Laura averredthat she had lived at least eight times already; witnessing the dreadcontest of death, and dying for the cause of Pan, and the Light-King, andEros the immortal, 'whose I am, ' she said; 'and once again, for the ninthtime, I live and watch the contest--watch with joy which overcomes fear, with love that conquers death. '

'Well, I hope we shall be able to conquer death in this instance, ' thedoctor answered, 'and with care we may save her for some time, and if--'

'Ah, if, ' Laura interjected, and curtseying to him she led the doctor tothe door. 'Nothing, ' she began, 'can be worse than the present state ofearth-life, and in all its phases; if the human race is to be evolved intoa higher degree of perfection, no weak half-measures will avail to effectthe change; there must, on the contrary, be a radical change in hereditaryenvironment. '

The doctor listened a moment and, as if enchanted with the impression shehad produced, Laura went back to the writing-table, and settling the foldsof her brown silk widely over the floor, she began to write:

 '"Ye gods, they fail, they falter, Thy hand hath struck them down. Their woof the Parcae alter, Beware thy mother's frown! What such as I in glory Compared with such as thee? Would, in the conflict gory, That I had died for thee!"'

At this point the inspiration seemed to desert her, and raising her penfrom the paper, she bit its end thoughtfully, seeking for a transitionalphrase whereby she might be able to allude to the Light-god. 

They were in a six-shilling-a-week bedroom in the neighbourhood of theStrand. The window looked on to a bit of red-tiled roofing, a cistern, anda clothes-line on which a petticoat flapped, and in a small iron bedstead, facing the light, Kate lay delirious, her stomach enormously distended bydropsy. From time to time she waved her arms, now wasted to mere bones. Shehad been insensible for three whole days, speaking in broken phrases of herpast life--of Mrs. Ede, the potteries, the two little girls, Annie andLizzie. Dick, she declared, had been very good to her. Ralph, too, had beenkind, and she was determined that the two men should not quarrel over her. They must not kill each other; she would not allow it; they should befriends. They would all be friends yet; that is to say, if Mrs. Ede wouldpermit of it; and why should she stand between people and make enemies ofthem? She fell back into stupor; and next day her ideas were still moreconfused. In the belief that it was for the part of the Baillie that Dickand Ralph were quarrelling she began to express her regret that there wasnothing in the piece for her. Nor were memories of the baby girl who haddied in Manchester lacking. She prayed Ralph to believe that the child wasnot his but Dick's child. She prayed and supplicated in Laura's arms tillLaura laid her back on the pillow exhausted. 

'Give me something to drink; I'm dying of thirst, ' the sick woman murmuredfaintly. 

Laura started from her reveries, and going over to the fireplace, where thebeef-tea was standing, poured out half a cup; but, owing to greatdifficulty in breathing, it was some time before the patient could drinkit. 

After a long silence Kate said:

'I've been very ill, haven't I? I think I must be dying. '

'Death is not death, ' Laura answered, 'when we die for Pan, the undyingrepresentative of the universe cognizable to the senses. '

Over Kate's mind lay a vague dream, through whose gloom two things werejust perceptible--an idea of death and a desire to see Dick. But she wasalmost too weak to seek for words, and it was with great effort that shesaid:

'I don't remember who you are; I can think of nothing now, but I shouldlike to see my husband once more. Could you fetch him? Is he here?'

'You've not been happy with him, I know, my sister; but I don't blame you. Your marriage was not a psychological union; and when marriage isn't that, woman cannot set her foot on the lowest temple of Eros. '

'I'm too ill to talk with you, ' Kate replied, 'but I loved my husband well, too well. I keep all my little remembrances of him in that box; they aren'tmuch--not much--but I should like him to have them when I'm gone, so thathe may know that I loved him to the last. Perhaps then he may forgive me. Will you let me see them?'

She looked at the packet of letters, kissed the crumpled calico rose, thebutton she had pulled off his coat in a drunken fit and preserved for love, and she even slipped on her wrist the last few pearls that remained of thechaplet she wore when they played at sweethearts in _The Lovers'Knot_. But after the love-tokens had been put back in the box, and Kateagain asked Mrs. Forest to bring Dick to her, she began to ramble in herspeech, and to fancy herself in Hanley. The most diverse scenes were heapedtogether in the complex confusion of Kate's nightmare; the most opposedideas were intermingled. At one moment she told the little girls, Annie andLizzie, of the immorality of the conversations in the dressing-rooms oftheatres; at another she stopped the Rehearsal of an _opéra bouffe_ topreach to the mummers--in phrases that were remembrances of theextemporaneous prayers in the Wesleyan Church--of the advantages of anearnest, working religious life. It was like a costume ball, where chastitygrinned from behind a mask that vice was looking for, while vice hid hisnakedness in some of the robes that chastity had let fall. Thus up anddown, like dice thrown by demon players, were rattled the two lives, thedouble life that this weak woman had lived, and a point was reached wherethe two became one, when she began to sing her famous song:

 'Look at me here, look at me there, '

alternately with the Wesleyan hymns. Sometimes in her delirium she evenfitted the words of one on to the tune of the other. 

Still, Laura took no notice, and her pen continued to scratch, scratch, till it occurred to her that although Dick's marriage had not been apsychological one, it might be as well that he should see his wife beforeshe died; and having come to this conclusion suddenly, she put on herbonnet and left the house. 

The landlady brought in the lamp, placing it on the table, out of sight ofthe dying woman's eyes. 

A dreadful paleness had changed even the yellow of her face to an ashentint; her lips had disappeared, her eyes were dilated, and she tried toraise herself up in bed. Her withered arms were waved to and, fro, and inthe red gloom shed from the ill-smelling paraffin lamp the large, dimlyseen folds of the bedclothes were tossed to and fro by the convulsions thatagitated the whole body. Another hour passed away, marked by the cavernousbreathing of the woman as she crept to the edge of death. At last therecame a sigh, deeper and more prolonged; and with it she died. 

Soon after, before the corpse had grown cold, heavy steps were heard on thestaircase, and Dick and Laura entered, one with a quantity of cockatoo-likeflutterings, the other steadily, like a big and ponderous animal. At aglance they saw that all was over, and in silence they sat down, theirhands resting on the table. The man spoke hesitatingly in awkward phrasesof a happy release; the woman listened with a calm serenity that causedDick to wonder. She would have liked to have said something concerningpsychological marriages, but the appearance of the huge body beneath thebed-clothes restrained her: he wished to say something nice and kind, butLaura's presence put everything out of his head, and so his ideas becamemore than ever broken and disjointed, his thoughts wandered, until at last, lifting his eyes from the manuscript on the table, he said:

'Have you finished the second act, dear?'

THE END