I am a stick--for your
sake, Leo--you brought me here--I must do what I can."

"Oh, Nina, you don't half value yourself!" he said. "You think far too
little of yourself. You're a most wonderful creature to find in a
theatre. I consider that Lehmann is under a deep obligation to me for
giving him the chance of engaging you. By the way, have you heard what
he means to do on Sunday week?"

"No--not at all!"

"Saturday week is the 400th night," he continued; "and to celebrate it,
Lehmann is going to give the principal members of the company, and a few
friends, I suppose, a dinner at the Star and Garter at Richmond. Haven't
you heard?--but of course he'll send you a card of invitation. The
worst of it is that it is no use driving down at this time of the year;
I suppose we shall have to get there just as we please, and meet in the
room; but I don't know how all the proper escorts are to be arranged. I
was thinking, Nina, I could take you and Miss Girond down, if you will
let me."

There was a bright, quick look of pleasure in Nina's eyes--but only for
an instant.

"No, no, Leo," she said, with lowered lashes. "That is not right. Miss
Burgoyne and you are the two principal people in the theatre--you are on
the stage equals--off the stage also you are her friend--you must take
her to Richmond, Leo."

"Miss Burgoyne?"

But here the door of Miss Burgoyne's room was suddenly opened, and the
voice of the young lady herself was heard, in unmistakably angry tones:

"Oh, bother your headache! I suppose it was your headache made you split
my blue jacket in two, and I suppose it was your headache made you smash
my brooch last night--I wonder what some women were born for!" And
therewithal the charming Grace Mainwaring made her appearance; and not a
word--hardly a look--did the indignant small lady choose to bestow on
either Lionel or Nina as she brushed by them on her way up to the wings.

Yes, here he was in the theatre again, with all its trivial distractions
and interests, and also its larger excitements and ambitions and
rewards, not the least of which was the curious fascination he found in
holding a great audience hushed and enthralled, listening breathlessly
to every far-reaching, passionate note. Then his reappearance on the
stage brought him a renewal of all the friendly little attentions and
hospitalities that had been interrupted by his leaving for Scotland; for
if certain of his fashionable acquaintance were stil