the room, 'have some
pity. I am not a child; I am a man. I can't bear this. You must be
everything or you must be nothing.'

'Nothing, Paul?' said Claudia, with grave, accusing eyes and wounded
face and voice. 'Nothing?'

It was exquisite practice, and she was a hundred times a better actress
off the boards than on. Paul could appreciate her art at its full value
in later years, but just now he found earnestness enough for two, and
would have broken his heart outright if he had known how she was playing
with him.

'Nothing or all,' he said. 'You treat me like a child, Claudia, but I am
a man, if I _am_ only a little over one-and-twenty. I have a man's heart
and a man's blood in my veins. No. Don't come near me yet; I want to be
my own master.'

'Oh, Paul, dear!' said Claudia; 'you mustn't talk so I never thought
you felt so deeply. How could I? Must it all be over, Paul? Are they
all gone, dear--all the happy, peaceful, tranquil hours? Can't I give my
little brother Paul a simple kiss without making such a tempest?'

'I have had no peaceful, tranquil hours,' cried Paul. 'Oh, Claudia!
Claudia!'

'Kiss and be friends, Paul,' said Claudia, and Paul was lured back to
his absurd paradise, and fed on kisses and caresses which were sometimes
suffered to reach the edge of ardour, and then skilfully chilled.

If feminine nine-and-twenty thinks it worth while to befool masculine
one-and-twenty, and knows her business as well as Claudia knew it, the
task is fairly easy. Claudia would not hear of Paul throwing away his
prospects for so mad a purpose as to follow her to London. She covered
her pretty ears with her ringed fingers when he talked of it, and
positively refused to listen. But he must be rewarded for his devotion,
too, and Claudia wished with all her heart that she could love Paul as
he loved her. But it would be wicked to marry without a proper feeling
for a husband, and Paul was her brother, her dear, dear younger brother,
and to talk of marriage at their ages was such a folly. Wouldn't Paul
always be her brother? And she laid her soft warm cheek against his
and kissed his hand. What more could he ask for, silly boy? Wasn't that
happiness enough for him if he really loved her? If he would be good,
and promise never, never, never to be foolish again, and frighten
Claudia with his anger--why _should_ he want to frighten his poor
Claudia?--they might always love each other, and be, oh, so happy!

The programme t