h success revolved. Within twenty-four hours all the town was
talking of her bewitching face, her artless manner, her sweet voice. The
sordid surroundings of Newgate, its thieves, male and female, its thieve
takers, gave zest to her naturalness and simplicity. Moreover she was
not in a fashionable dress, she wore no hoops (and neither did Lucy) and
this in itself was a novelty and a contrast.

It was some time after the performance that Lavinia--whom everyone now
called Polly--left the theatre. The noblemen who had seats on the stage
crowded round her overwhelming her with compliments and looks of
admiration. One of their number, a man of portly presence at least twice
her age, whose face suggested good nature but little else, was assiduous
in his attentions. Lavinia accepted his flattery as a matter of course,
and thought nothing more about him. She was told he was the Duke of
Bolton, but duke or earl made no difference to her. Some of her titled
admirers offered to escort her home but she shook her head laughingly
and refused everyone. She knew very well that Lancelot Vane would be
waiting for her as usual at the stage door, and she did not intend
either to disappoint him or make him jealous.

She joined him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with excitement.
Vane looked eagerly and anxiously into her face and gave a little sigh.

"Well," said she, "are you disappointed with me?"

"Disappointed! Good heavens, no. Why Lavinia--"

"Lavinia," she cried tossing her head coquettishly. "Polly if you
please. Polly is to be my name for ever after. Everybody knows me now as
Polly, though dear Mr. Gay called me so long and long ago. Isn't it
wonderful how his words have come true?"

"Mr. Gay is a clever man--a great man. I wish--"

"Yes, and what do you wish? Something nice I hope."

"I don't know about that. My wish was that I had been born a real poet
and dramatist and had written 'The Beggar's Opera' for you. But my wits
are dull--like myself."

"Please don't be foolish. I want you to tell me how I sang--how I acted.
You didn't mind Tom Walker making love to me?"

"No, I wished my arm had been round you instead of his, that was all."

"Wishing again! Can't you do something beyond wishing?"

She flashed a swift look at him and then the dark silky lashes drooped.
He must have been dull indeed not to have understood. His arm was about
her. He drew her closer to him passionately. It was the first time,
though