as to be almost raw.'
I'm glad I've learned that," pursued Magda earnestly. "It seems to me an
important thing for a wife to know. Don't you think so, Gillian?"

Gillian shouted with delight.

"Of course I do! Do let's ask Michael to lunch and offer him a couple of
raw cutlets on a charger."

"No," insisted Magda firmly. "I shall keep a splendid treat like that
for him till after we're married. Even at a strictly conservative
estimate it should be worth a new hat to me."

"Or a dose of arsenic in your next cup of tea," suggested Gillian,
giggling.

The following evening was the occasion of Magda's first appearance at
the Imperial after the publication of her engagement, and the theatre
was packed from floor to ceiling. "House Full" boards were exhibited
outside at quite an early hour, and when Magda appeared on the stage she
was received with such enthusiasm that for a time it was impossible
to proceed with the ballet. When finally the curtain fell on what the
critics characterised next day as "the most appealing performance of
_The Swan-Maiden_ which Mademoiselle Wielitzska has yet given us,"
she received an absolute ovation. The audience went half-crazy with
excitement, applauding deliriously, while the front of the stage
speedily became converted into a veritable bank of flowers, from amidst
which Magda bowed and smiled her thanks.

She enjoyed every moment of it, every handclap. She was radiantly happy,
and this spontaneous sharing in her happiness by the big public which
idolised her served but to intensify it. She was almost crying as she
returned to her dressing-room after taking a dozen or more calls, and
when, as usual, Virginie met her on the threshold, she dropped the
great sheaf of lilies she was carrying and flung her arms round the old
woman's neck.

"Oh, the dears!" she exclaimed. "The blessed _dears_! Virginie, I
believe I'm the happiest woman alive!"

"And who should be, _mon petite chou_, if not thou?" returned the old
woman with conviction. "Of course they love thee! _Mais bien sur_!
Doest thou not dance for them as none else can dance and give them angel
visions that they could not imagine for themselves?" She paused. Then
thrusting her hand suddenly into the pocket of her apron and producing
a card: "_Tiens_! I forgot! Monsieur Davilof waits. Will mademoiselle
receive him?"

Magda nodded. She had not seen Antoine since her return from Netherway.
He had been away in Poland, visiting his