o Marion, whose interests
and enthusiasm at the rehearsals of the piece seemed in contrast most
friendly and unselfish. He could not help but compare the attitude of
the two girls at this time, when the failure or success of his best work
was still undecided. He felt that as Helen took so little interest
in his success he could not dare to trouble her with his anxieties
concerning it, and she attributed his silence to his preoccupation and
interest in Marion. So the two grew apart, each misunderstanding the
other and each troubled in spirit at the other's indifference.

The first night of the play justified all that Marion and Wimpole had
claimed for it, and was a great personal triumph for the new playwright.
The audience was the typical first-night audience of the class which
Charles Wimpole always commanded. It was brilliant, intelligent, and
smart, and it came prepared to be pleased.

From one of the upper stage-boxes Helen and Lady Gower watched the
successful progress of the play with an anxiety almost as keen as that
of the author. To Helen it seemed as though the giving of these lines to
the public--these lines which he had so often read to her, and altered
to her liking--was a desecration. It seemed as though she were losing
him indeed--as though he now belonged to these strange people, all of
whom were laughing and applauding his words, from the German Princess
in the Royal box to the straight-backed Tommy in the pit. Instead of the
painted scene before her, she saw the birch-trees by the river at home,
where he had first read her the speech to which they were now listening
so intensely--the speech in which the hero tells the girl he loves her.
She remembered that at the time she had thought how wonderful it would
be if some day some one made such a speech to her--not Philip--but a man
she loved. And now? If Philip would only make that speech to her now!

He came out at last, with Wimpole leading him, and bowed across a
glaring barrier of lights at a misty but vociferous audience that was
shouting the generous English bravo! and standing up to applaud. He
raised his eyes to the box where Helen sat, and saw her staring down
at the tumult, with her hands clasped under her chin. Her face was
colorless, but lit with the excitement of the moment; and he saw that
she was crying.

Lady Gower, from behind her, was clapping her hands delightedly.

"But, my dear Helen," she remonstrated breathlessly, "you never told