in. Then the
lights died, and the curtain went up.

The singing of Madame I cannot describe. It was not of this world.
And we knew her. We were her friends. She was our hostess. To the
house she was the great artiste--a name to whisper, a figurehead to bow
before. For us, we were listening to the song of a friend. As she had
promised, she sang to us. There was no mistaking it. And the great
charm of her welled out in that wonderful voice. All the spirit of
melody danced in her notes. When she was singing, there seemed to be
none but us in the theatre, and soon no theatre--only us in the world.
We two only stepped by her side, walked with her, understood.

Actually the girl and I sat spellbound, smiling down as she
smiled up from the stage. We knew afterwards that we had been sitting
hand-in-hand, as children do.

At the end of it all the house rose at her. Never was there such a
scene. We rose, too, and stood smiling. Somehow we did not applaud.
She just smiled back.

"Shall we go?" said I.

"Yes."

As I turned to the door, I caught sight of four faces looking earnestly
up from the stalls. I bowed gravely. An attendant was waiting in the
corridor, and we were escorted through the iron door the way we had
come.

Madame sat in a deep arm-chair in the sitting-room, her hair all about
her shoulders. She looked tired. Virtue had gone out of her.

"Ah, my dears," she said. My companion kneeled by her side and put her
arms round her neck. Then she spoke and kissed her. I do not know
what she said. The other held her very close for a moment, then looked
at me and smiled. I raised her hand to my lips.

"I cannot say anything, Madame."

"It is all said. We have spoken together for the last half-hour. Is
it not so?"

"It is so, Madame."

After a little, my companion said we must be going.

"He will see me to my hotel," she said.

"I do not like letting you go," said our hostess, "but I take long to
dress. My car shall carry you home and return for me. Yvonne, see to
that. Yes, there will be plenty of time. Besides, you have driven
enough in taxis for to-day. What have you lost, my dear?"

The girl was looking about her.

"I think I must have left it in the box--my chain bag. How silly!"

"My dear, I leave everything everywhere"

"I will get it," said I. Yvonne had gone for the car. Besides, I
wanted to go.

"Oh, thank you. It's quite a small gold--"

"I know it," s