“Oh, I'll manage that,” said Mrs. Munger. “I'm counting on Mrs. Savor.” She added in a hurried undertone to Annie: “I've asked a number of the workpeople to stay--representative workpeople, the foremen in the different shops and their families--and you'll find your friends of all classes together. It's a great day for the Social Union!” she said aloud. “I'm sure _you_ must feel that, Mr. Peck. Miss Kilburn and I have to thank you for saving us from a great mistake at the outset, and now your staying,” she continued, “will give it just the appearance we want. I'm going to keep your little girl as a hostage, and you shall not go till I let you. Come, Mrs. Savor!” She bustled away with Mrs. Savor, and Mr. Peck reluctantly accompanied Annie down over the lawn. He was silent, but Mr. Savor was hilarious. “Well, Mr. Putney,” he said, when he joined the group of which Putney was the centre, “you done that in apple-pie order. I never see anything much better than the way you carried on with Mrs. Wilmington.” “Thank you, Mr. Savor,” said Putney; “I'm glad you liked it. You couldn't say I was trying to flatter her up much, anyway.” “No, no!” Mr. Savor assented, with delight in the joke. “Well, Annie,” said Putney. He shook hands with her, and Mrs. Putney, who was there with Dr. Morrell, asked her where she had sat. “We kept looking all round for you.” “Yes,” said Putney, with his hand on his boy's shoulder, “we wanted to know how you liked the Mercutio.” “Ralph, it was incomparable!” “Well, that will do for a beginning. It's a little cold, but it's in the right spirit. You mean that the Mercutio wasn't comparable to the Nurse.” “Oh, Lyra was wonderful!” said Annie. “Don't you think so, Ellen?” “She was Lyra,” said Mrs. Putney definitely. “No; she wasn't Lyra at all!” retorted Annie. “That was the marvel of it. She was Juliet's nurse.” “Perhaps she was a little of both,” suggested Putney. “What did you think of the performance, Mr. Peck? I don't want a personal tribute, but if you offer it, I shall not be ungrateful.” “I have been very much interested,” said the minister. “It was all very new to me. I realised for the first time in my life the great power that the theatre must be. I felt how much the drama could do--how much good.” “Well, that's what we're after,” said Putney. “We had no personal motive; good, right straight along, was our motto. Nobody wanted to outshine anybody else. I kept my Mercutio down all through, so's not to get ahead of Romeo or Tybalt in the public esteem. Did our friends outside the rope catch on to my idea?” Mr. Peck smiled at the banter, but he seemed not to know just what to say, and Putney went on: “That's why I made it so bad. I didn't want anybody to go home feeling sorry that Mercutio was killed. I don't suppose Winthrop could have slept.” “You won't sleep yourself to-night, I'm afraid,” said his wife.