whirled before her eyes, the faces on the platform
became faint and blurred, her heart pounded so loudly that it seemed
impossible that her neighbours should not hear its thuds. She turned
her head to look at the nearest door and examine the faces of the group
of stewards waiting in readiness at its portal. Were they _very_ big,
_very_ fierce, _very_ formidable? Which of the number would be the
first to tear her from her seat? Her pretty face was blanched and drawn
beneath her flower-wreathed hat; one of the stewards meeting her glance
moved forward to her side with a stifled exclamation of dismay. He bent
low over her, whispering in her ear:

"Miss Boyce! what are you doing here? Are you alone? You ought not to
be here without a man to look after you. It is getting too noisy--too
excited. If there are any more interruptions things will become
dangerous. Let me take you out quietly, while there is time--"

John Baker, by all that was confounding and terrible! John, the last
man on earth whom she would have wished to witness her humiliation!
John, who had called her a "modest, old-fashioned girl." ... It was the
last straw to poor Norah's composure; her fluttering heart gave one
sickening leap, and then appeared to stop altogether; she held out her
hands with a feeble, despairing gesture, and collapsed in a limp little
heap in John Baker's arms.

When Norah came back to consciousness she was lying on a form in a bare,
boarded room, and John was engaged in sprinkling water from a water-jug
over the front of her best silk blouse. She sat up hastily, brushed the
hair from her forehead, and stared around with bewildered eyes. A roar
of applause from the great hall broke the silence, and brought back
struggling remembrance.

"Did you--did you turn me out?"

"I _carried_ you out! You fainted, and I brought you in here. It was
no wonder; you were not accustomed to such sights. Did you imagine in
your faintness that you had been turned out like those other screaming
women, you poor little frightened girl?" asked John's big voice in its
most caressing tones.

Norah shivered with dismay.

"I was--I am--I mean I _should_ have been, if I had stayed five minutes
longer! I'm Number Nine!" she cried; and then seeing John's stare of
stupefied dismay, promptly threw up her hands to her face, and burst
into weak-minded tears.

"Oh--oh! What _will_ you think of me--what _will_ you say!--I was
obliged to earn so