“And you say they are beautiful girls and will have large fortunes.” “Yes, I suppose Maggie is a good-looking girl; she is more a fascinating girl than a beautiful girl.” A sudden remembrance of Lizzie Baker dictated this opinion of Maggie Brookes. “Dinner is on the table, my lady.” “I think you said in your letter that you were going to have two young girls staying with you.” “Yes, but they could not come; they were to have been here on Monday. I am very sorry; had I known for certain that you were coming, I would have arranged to have some one to meet you.” “I am very glad you didn't.” The conversation dropped. “You said you were going to the theatre. What theatre are you thinking of going to?” “My neuralgia put all thoughts of the theatre out of my head. I have a box for the Gaiety. We will go if you like.” The name of the theatre reminded him of Lizzie Baker, and he compared the pale, refined face of the bar girl with the over-coloured woman--his hostess. He had not seen Lizzie for a long time. Why had he not gone to the bar room the last time he was in London? “You have not answered me--would you like to go to the Gaiety?” “I am sure I beg your pardon,” and then, in a sudden confusion of memories and desires, he said: “I don't know that I care much about going to the theatre. You are not feeling well.” “My neuralgia is almost all gone. There's nothing like champagne for it. Hardwick, Mr. Escott will take some more champagne.” There were engravings after Burne Jones and Rossetti on the walls, and Frank stopped to look at them as he followed Lady Seveley upstairs. She went straight to the piano. “Are you fond of music?” she said. “Yes; there is nothing I like more than fiddling at the piano.” “Then do play something.” “Oh, no, not for worlds. I only strum, I don't know my notes. I strum on the piano as I strum on the violin.” “Do you play the violin?” “I can't call it playing, I was never taught.” “How did you learn, then? It is a most difficult instrument; I couldn't get on with it at all; I will get mine out if you will play something.” “If you promise not to laugh, I will try, but I assure you I know nothing about it. I borrowed a violin once, and I taught myself to play a tune; then I bought a violin, and I amuse myself when I am alone.” “How very clever of you. There, you will find it under the piano behind that music; do play something, it will be so good of you.” “What shall I play?” “Anything you like.”