he was again seated on the driving-phaeton which he had brought that
day, Lord Mountclere looked gleeful, and shrewd enough in his own opinion
to outwit Mephistopheles. As soon as they were ascending a hill, and he
could find time to free his hand, he pulled off his glove, and drawing
from his pocket a programme of the Melchester concert referred to,
contemplated therein the name of one of the intended performers. The
name was that of Mr. C. Julian. Replacing it again, he looked ahead, and
some time after murmured with wily mirth, 'An excellent test--a lucky
thought!'

Nothing of importance occurred during the intervening days. At two
o'clock on the appointed afternoon Ethelberta stepped from the train at
Melchester with the viscount, who had met her as proposed; she was
followed behind by Picotee.

The concert was to be held at the Town-hall half-an-hour later. They
entered a fly in waiting, and secure from recognition, were driven
leisurely in that direction, Picotee silent and absorbed with her own
thoughts.

'There's the Cathedral,' said Lord Mountclere humorously, as they caught
a view of one of its towers through a street leading into the Close.

'Yes.'

'It boasts of a very fine organ.'

'Ah.'

'And the organist is a clever young man.'

'Oh.'

Lord Mountclere paused a moment or two. 'By the way, you may remember
that he is the Mr. Julian who set your song to music!'

'I recollect it quite well.' Her heart was horrified and she thought
Lord Mountclere must be developing into an inquisitor, which perhaps he
was. But none of this reached her face.

They turned in the direction of the Hall, were set down, and entered.

The large assembly-room set apart for the concert was upstairs, and it
was possible to enter it in two ways: by the large doorway in front of
the landing, or by turning down a side passage leading to council-rooms
and subsidiary apartments of small size, which were allotted to
performers in any exhibition; thus they could enter from one of these
directly upon the platform, without passing through the audience.

'Will you seat yourselves here?' said Lord Mountclere, who, instead of
entering by the direct door, had brought the young women round into this
green-room, as it may be called. 'You see we have come in privately
enough; when the musicians arrive we can pass through behind them, and
step down to our seats from the front.'

The players could soon be heard tuning in the n