what she meant. She said she would most likely
fall in love with a grey-haired man, and her boy said: "Yes, of course
you _would_." Whereupon she told him not to be so sarcastic.

The attitude of gentlemen to ladies was also delightful. Some of the
gentlemen were guilty of bad manners, in the Surbiton sense of the word.
That is to say, they did not all do what was "done," and they very
frequently did things that were not "done" by Good People. But
everything they did was inspired by a consideration for the comfort of
others. They committed _gaucheries_, but the fount thereof was
kindliness.

The conversation was varied. Some talked frocks, some music, some
picture-palaces, some odds-and-ends. Those who affected theatres stuck
firmly to Victor, and lured him on to talk about the idols of the stage.
The dear boy _might_ have told them things ... he might have
disillusioned their golden heads about certain actor-managers of whom he
has had intimate experience; but he didn't, and I rather liked him for
it. While more recitations and more music went round, he told them
heroic stories about their heroes. He told them strange stories and
beautiful stories and funny stories; but never, never disparaging
stories. One saw their faces glow with wonder. Then the time came for
him to work again. He certainly earned that seven-and-six. This time the
Vicar was there, so he handed them "The Dream of Eugene Aram."

Again he got 'em. The girls shivered and moved nearer to their boys. He
got his horror in voice and face and gesture and pauses. There was
perfect silence while he did it. There was perfect silence for some
seconds afterwards. Then came a rain of clapping, and the Vicar walked
across to him and shook him by the hand, showering warm compliments upon
him, and trusting that he would be kind enough to come again.

Then, while we drank coffee and handed cakes to the girls, the reverend
gentleman stood on the rug before the fire and gave us an informal
address. It was all very bright and homely, and the merry twinkle in the
old man's eye when he saw the cluster of girls about Victor told us that
he was very much alive to this world.

At half-past ten the meeting broke up, with a final effort by Victor in
two of Albert Chevalier's songs. The girls pelted to the dressing-rooms
and returned, robed for the street and radiant, and all anxious to shake
hands and bid farewell to the Star. They literally danced round him, and
fought