uperintending the erection of some new
scenery.

"Mr. Heepman," she exclaimed, "I cannot stay to rehearsal! I have
to go out."

He turned heavily round and looked at her.

"Rehearsal postponed," he declared solemnly. "Shall you be back
for the evening performance, or shall we close the theatre?"

His clumsy irony missed its mark. Her thoughts were too intensely
focussed upon one thing.

"I am sorry," she replied, turning away. "I will come back as soon
as I can."

He called out after her and she paused.

"Look here," he said, "you were absent from the performance the
other evening, and now you are skipping rehearsal without even
waiting for permission. It can't be done, young lady. You must
do your playing around some other time. If you're not here when
you're called, you needn't trouble to turn up again. Do you
understand?"

Her lips quivered and the sense of impending disaster which seemed
to be brooding over her life became almost overwhelming.

"I'll come back as soon as I can," she promised, with a little break
in her voice,--"as soon as ever I can, Mr. Heepman."

She hurried out of the theatre and took her place once more among
the hurrying throng of pedestrians. Several people turned round to
look at her. Her white face, tight-drawn mouth, and eyes almost
unnaturally large, seemed to have become the abiding-place for
tragedy. She herself saw no one. She would have taken a cab, but
a glimpse at the contents of her purse dissuaded her. She walked
steadily on to Jermyn Street, walked up the stairs to the third
floor, and knocked at her brother's door. No one answered her at
first. She turned the handle and entered to find the room empty.
There were sounds, however, in the further apartment, and she
called out to him.

"Arthur," she cried, "are you there?"

"Who is it?" he demanded.

"It is I--Zoe!" she exclaimed.

"What do you want?"

"I want to speak to you, Arthur. I must speak to you. Please
come as quickly as you can."

He growled something and in a few moments he appeared. He was
wearing the morning clothes in which he had attended court earlier
in the day, but the change in him was perhaps all the more marked
by reason of this resumption of his old attire. His cheeks were
hollow, his eyes scarcely for an instant seemed to lose that
feverish gleam of terror with which he had returned from Liverpool.
He knew very well what she had come about, and he began nervously
to t