‘Mr. Camm, you must listen to me. I believe I am the cause of this scene, but I swear it is without fault of mine that it has arisen. He wished me to promise him, earlier in the evening, when I was at his house, that I would let him hand me on to the stage when our song came, and said he would remain in this room while I was here. I said he had nothing to do with the concert, and that I would not consent to it. He replied that he would have his revenge—very manly and nice of him, of course. I suppose this is it, and I must say it seems pitiful to me. If I had known, nothing would have induced me to come here. I can only say he is beside himself, and——’ ‘That will scarcely do,’ said Roger, turning away. ‘He is not acknowledged as a lunatic yet, nor shut up, whatever he ought to be, and I will thank him——’ Here the door again opened, and all the performers came into the room. Magdalen said imploringly to Roger— ‘Please go and play the prelude. I will _make_ him behave himself.’ There was no time to be lost, and Roger, after hesitating a second or two, followed her directions. Magdalen turned to Otho. For once she found him deaf and senseless to her words. She bade him go to the concert-room. He flatly refused to do so, with a bow and a smile. She said she would not go in herself, if he did not do as she told him; to which he replied, that in that case he would himself go forward, and say that since Miss Wynter was in a bad temper and refused to sing, he offered himself as a substitute. All this passed in low tones, the pantomime being eagerly watched by those who had come in, and who could see the gestures of the speakers and their faces, without hearing their words. The man’s vindictive determination prevailed. If he were mad there was method in his madness. He was prepared to throw all appearances to the winds, and to say or do whatever came uppermost. Magdalen was not; and she had little time in which to decide. Otho offered his arm to Ada, and they went on to the stage in the order before spoken of. When they all returned to the ante-room, Ada was more uneasy and less triumphant than she had been; and greatly embarrassed too, by Otho’s marked attentions in the face of the other performers, who, so far from being awestruck at the distinction conferred upon her, seemed to be tittering amongst themselves at the absurdity of the whole affair. Roger walked up to Ada, and asked her gravely and quietly if she had to sing again. ‘No, Roger,’ said she, in a subdued voice. ‘Then I think you had better let me take you home,’ he said gently, and offered her his arm. Ada took it instantly. ‘Oh, nonsense!’ began Otho. ‘We can’t do with that. She——’ ‘Be good enough to stand out of the way,’ said Roger, fixing his eyes upon him with a steady look that boded anything but peace between them in the future. ‘I will take Miss Dixon home now. There has been foolery enough to-night. I will settle with you to-morrow.’