But after a moment's silence there came a sound of a window being thrown open, and a voice called out from somewhere aloft, "Hullo!" She stepped back and looked upwards. A youth, wrapped in a blanket, was gazing down upon her. "Oh, I suppose you are Madame Sheep, or Miss Stornway?" he exclaimed. "Stop a minute, and I'll be down." With these words he vanished. Decidedly "intrigued," the girl waited patiently. How very unlike was this reception to anything her wildest imagination had anticipated. An inhabited ruin, the occupant thereof clad in the bedclothes, peering down from an upper window to inquire if she was herself or some person who possessed the weird name of "Madame Sheep!" She felt as if it were part of a ridiculous dream. Finally, the door was opened, not by the blanketed youth, but by a middle-aged man, small and short, with a head beginning to grow bald and a face clean-shaven, save for curious old-fashioned side-whiskers. Hailing the girl by name with the heartiness of an old friend, he led the way across the hall and into a large room on the ground floor. It was totally unfurnished, save for a rough wooden table, a bench and a couple of chairs. On one of these Evarne was invited to take a seat. Yes, this little individual was "the" Mr. Punter in person. He proceeded to hold forth in enthusiastic terms concerning the future prospects of "Caledonia's Bard." The play had never been produced yet, that was why he had advertised for a full company. He anticipated that it would run for years. Not that he expected to be able to retain the original company all that time. Every part was so splendid--practically all were star-parts--that the artistes who had the good fortune to appear in them would soon be tempted away from him by London managers. Oh no, he hadn't written the drama himself. He only wished he was sufficiently gifted. But he was very proud to be able to acknowledge that it was, indeed, the fruit of the genius of one of his family. Such an inspiring subject. He had an intense admiration for Robert Burns. Was Miss Stornway, indeed, not intimately acquainted with the whole of that wonderful poet's works? Oh dear! dear! That was distressing, and must be remedied. She should be lent a book--several books. Mr. Sandy, the great actor who was to play the title _rôle_, knew nearly all Burns's poems by heart, and it was chiefly owing to his appreciation of the acute study of the poet's character, in "Caledonia's Bard," that he had resolved to disappoint several other managers in order to join this company. The young lady who played "Highland Mary," the heroine, had not arrived yet. She lived in Northumberland. A really excellent actress, only second to Ellen Terry. Mr. Punter had gone to great expense to procure her services. Madame Cheape--not Sheep, my dear--was the "Clarinda." This spacious apartment had been retained especially for rehearsals.