uccess it had achieved. This would not have
been true, but it would have been encouraging to her; and in the revery
which followed upon his conditional desire he had a long imaginary
conversation with her, and discussed all her other plans for the revels
of the week. These had not the trouble of defining themselves very
distinctly in the conversation in order to win his applause, and their
consideration did not carry him with Miss Shirley beyond the strictly
professional ground on which they met.

She had apparently invented nothing for that evening, and the house
party was left to its own resources in dancing and sitting out dances,
which apparently fully sufficed it. They were all tired, and broke up
early. The women took their candles and went off to bed, and the men
went to the billiard-room to smoke. On the way down from his room,
where he had gone to put on his smoking-jacket, Verrian met Miss Macroyd
coming up, candle in hand, and received from her a tacit intimation that
he might stop her for a joking good-night.

"I hope you'll sleep well on your laurels as umpire," he said.

"Oh, thank you," she returned, "and I hope your laurels won't keep you
awake. It must seem to you as if it was blowing a perfect gale in them."

"What do you mean? I did nothing."

"Oh, I don't mean your promotion of the snow battle. But haven't you
heard?" He stared. "You've been found out!"

"Found out?" Verrian's soul was filled with the joy of literary fame.

"Yes. You can't conceal yourself now. You're Verrian the actor."

"The actor?" Verrian frowned blackly in his disgust, so blackly that
Miss Macroyd laughed aloud.

"Yes, the coming matinee idol. One of the girls recognized you as soon
as you came into the house, and the name settled it, though, of course,
you're supposed to be here incognito."

The mention of that name which he enjoyed in common with the actor made
Verrian furious, for when the actor first appeared with it in New York
Verrian had been at the pains to find out that it was not his real name,
and that he had merely taken it because of the weak quality of romance
in it, which Verrian himself had always disliked. But, of course, he
could not vent his fury on Miss Macroyd. All he could do was to ask,
"Then they have got my photograph on their dressing-tables, with candles
burning before it?"

"No, I don't believe I can give you that comfort. The fact is, your
acting is not much admired among the girls here,