dressing-room, that my friend, George Stairs, was lying unconscious in a
fainting fit. But my anxiety was not long-lived. Several doctors had
volunteered their services, and from one of them I learned that the
fainting fit was no more than the momentary result of an exceptional
strain of excitement.

Within half an hour, Stairs and Reynolds were both resting comfortably
in a private sitting-room at a neighbouring hotel, and there I visited
them, with Constance Grey and Mrs. Van Homrey, and John Crondall. Stairs
assured us that his fainting was of no consequence, and that he felt
perfectly fit and well again.

"You see it was something of an ordeal for me, a nobody from nowhere, to
face such an assembly."

"Well," said John Crondall, "I suppose that at this moment there is not
a man in London who is much more a somebody, and less a nobody from
nowhere."

"You think we succeeded, then?"

"My dear fellow! I think your address of this afternoon was the most
important event England has known this century. Mark my words, that
great thunder of 'Duty!' that you drew from them--from a London
audience, mind--is to have more far-reaching results for the British
Empire than the acquisition of a continent."

"No, no, my dear Crondall, you surely overrate the thing," said Stairs,
warm colour spreading over his pale face.

"Well, you can take my deliberate assurance that in my opinion you
achieved more for your country this afternoon than it has been my good
fortune to achieve in the whole of a rather busy life."

Stairs protested, blushing like a girl. But we know now that, so far at
all events as his remarks were prophetic, John Crondall was absolutely
right; though whether or not the new evangel could have achieved what it
did without the invasion is another matter.

Myself, I believe nothing could have been more triumphantly successful,
more pregnant with great possibilities for good, than the event of that
afternoon. Yet I was assured that fully two thousand five hundred more
people crowded into the hall for the evening service than had been
there to hear Stairs's address. And I had thought the huge place crowded
in the afternoon. As before, the service began and ended with the
National Anthem; but in the evening the great assembly was thrilled to
its heart by the Australian _prima donna's_ splendid singing of
Wordsworth's _Ode to Duty_ in the setting specially composed for this
occasion by Doctor Elgar.

I saw very