Having suspected from the first that there was a gentleman in the
background, it is highly satisfactory to know that he recedes into the
remote perspective of Asia. Long may he remain there!

The trifling responsibility of finding a name for our talented Magdalen
to perform under has been cast on my shoulders. She feels no interest
whatever in this part of the subject. "Give me any name you like," she
said; "I have as much right to one as to another. Make it yourself."
I have readily consented to gratify her wishes. The resources of my
commercial library include a list of useful names to assume; and we can
choose one at five minutes' notice, when the admirable man of business
who now oppresses us is ready to issue his advertisements. On this point
my mind is easy enough: all my anxieties center in the fair performer.
I have not the least doubt she will do wonders if she is only left to
herself on the first night. But if the day's post is mischievous
enough to upset her by a letter from her sister, I tremble for the
consequences.

IV.

_Chronicle for December. Second Fortnight._

My gifted relative has made her first appearance in public, and has laid
the foundation of our future fortunes.

On the first night the attendance was larger than I had ventured
to hope. The novelty of an evening's entertainment, conducted from
beginning to end by the unaided exertions of a young lady (see
advertisement), roused the public curiosity, and the seats were
moderately well filled. As good luck would have it, no letter addressed
to Miss Vanstone came that day. She was in full possession of herself
until she got the first dress on and heard the bell ring for the music.
At that critical moment she suddenly broke down. I found her alone in
the waiting-room, sobbing, and talking like a child. "Oh, poor papa!
poor papa! Oh, my God, if he saw me now!" My experience in such matters
at once informed me that it was a case of sal-volatile, accompanied by
sound advice. We strung her up in no time to concert pitch; set her eyes
in a blaze; and made her out-blush her own rouge. The curtain rose when
we had got her at a red heat. She dashed at it exactly as she dashed at
it in the back drawing-room at Rosemary Lane. Her personal appearance
settled the question of her reception before she opened her lips. She
rushed full gallop through her changes of character, her songs, and her
dialogue; making mistakes by the dozen, and never stopping to