Milly was relieved at the return of Mr. Fitzroy with his aunt. She had
had an unhappy five minutes with Mrs. Shaw, who had been saying cryptic
but unpleasant things and calling her "Mildred"; whereas she did not so
much as know Mrs. Shaw's Christian name.

Seeing Mrs. Shaw, beautiful, animated, well-dressed, and Milly neatly
clothed, since her clothes were not of her own choosing, but with her
hair unbecomingly knotted, the brightness of her eyes, complexion, and
expression in eclipse, Lady Wolvercote wondered at her nephew's choice.
But that was his affair. She began to talk in a rather high-pitched
voice and continuously, like one whose business it is to talk; so that
it was difficult to interrupt without rudeness.

"So you're going to be kind enough to act Galatea for us at our fancy
fair, Mrs. Stewart? We want it to be a great success, and Lord
Wolvercote and I have heard so much about your acting. My nephew said
the part of Galatea would suit you exactly; didn't you, Charlie?"

"Down to the ground," interpolated, or rather accompanied, Fitzroy. "We
shall have the placards out on Wednesday, and people are looking forward
already to seeing Mrs. Stewart. There'll be a splendid audience."

"Every one has promised to fill their houses for the fair," Lady
Wolvercote was continuing, "and the Duke thinks he may be able to get
down ----," she mentioned a royalty. "You're going to help us too,
aren't you, Mrs. Shaw? It's so very kind of you. We've got such a pretty
part for you in a musical affair which Lenny Lumley wrote with somebody
or other for the Duchess of Ulster's Elizabethan bazaar. There's a
chorus of fairies--nymphs, Charlie? Yes, nymphs, and we want them all
to be very pretty and able to sing, and there's a charming dance for
them. I'm afraid that silly boy, Jim Morrison, made some mistake about
it, and told you we wanted you to act Galatea. But of course we couldn't
possibly do without you in the other thing, and Mrs. Stewart seems quite
pointed out for that Galatea part. Jim's such a dear, isn't he? And such
a splendid actor, every one says he really ought to go on the stage. But
we none of us pay the least attention to anything the dear boy says, for
he always does manage to get things wrong."

Mrs. Shaw had been making little movements preparatory to going. She had
no gift for the stage except beauty, but that produces an illusion of
success, and she took her acting with the seriousness of a Duse.

"I'm