bearings, and the discussion waxes fast and
furious.

"What is it all about?" asks Arthur Dynecourt presently, glancing at the
animated group in the middle of the room. And Sir Adrian, hearing his
question, explains it to him.

"Ah, indeed!" he says. And then, after a scarcely perceptible
pause--"Who is to be Kate Hardcastle?"

"Miss Delmaine," answers Sir Adrian, who is still leaning over that
young lady's chair.

"In what does the difficulty consist?" inquires Arthur Dynecourt, with
apparent indifference.

"Well," replies Sir Adrian, laughing; "I believe mere fear holds us
back. Miss Delmaine, as we all know, is a finished actress, and we
dread spoiling her performance by faults on our side. None of us have
attempted the character before; this is why we hesitate."

"A very sensible hesitation, I think," says his cousin coolly. "You
should thank me then for coming to your relief this afternoon; I have
played the part several times, and shall be delighted to undertake it
again, and help you out of your difficulty."

At this Miss Delmaine flushes angrily, and opens her lips as if she
would say something, but, after a second's reflection, restrains
herself. She sinks back into her chair with a proud languor, and closes
her mouth resolutely.

Sir Adrian is confounded. All along he had secretly hoped that, in the
end, this part would fall to his lot; but now--what is to be done? How
can he refuse to let his cousin take his place, especially as he has
declared himself familiar with the part.

Arthur, observing his cousin's hesitation, laughs aloud. His is not a
pleasant laugh, but has rather a sneering ring in it, and at the present
moment it jars upon the ears of the listeners.

"If I have been indiscreet," he says, with a slight glance at Florence's
proud face, "pray pardon me. I only meant to render you a little
assistance. I thought I understood from you that you were rather in a
dilemma. Do not dwell upon my offer another moment. I am afraid I have
made myself somewhat officious--unintentionally, believe me."

"My dear fellow, not at all," declares Sir Adrian hastily, shocked at
his own apparent want of courtesy. "I assure you, you mistake. It is all
so much to the contrary, that I gratefully accept your offer, and beg
you will be Marlow."

"But really--" begins Arthur Dynecourt.

"Not a word!" interrupts Sir Adrian; and indeed by this time Arthur
Dynecourt has brought his cousin to believe he is about