"Ah! but my own man, it does signify. Mr. Moss shall know that through it all I have done my duty. Madame Socani will tell lies, but she shall feel in her heart that she has once in her life come across a woman who, when she has signed a bit of paper, intends to remain true to the paper signed. And, my lord, there is still L100 due to you from my father." "Gammon!" said the lord. "I could pay it by a cheque on the bank, to be sure, but let us go on to the end of May. I want to see how all the young women will behave when they hear of it." And so some early day in June was fixed for the wedding. Among others who heard of it were, of course, Mr. Moss and Madame Socani. They heard of it, but of course did not believe it. It was too bright to be believed. When Madame Socani was assured that Rachel had taken the money,--she and her father between them,--she declared, with great apparent satisfaction, that Rachel must be given up as lost. "As to that wicked old man, her father--" "He's not so very old," said Moss. "She's no chicken, and he's old enough to be her father. That is, if he is her father. I have known that girl on the stage any day these ten years." "No, you've not; not yet five. I don't quite know how it is." And Mr. Moss endeavoured to think of it all in such a manner as to make it yet possible that he might marry her. What might not they two do together in the musical world? "You don't mean to say you'd take her yet?" said Madame Socani, with scorn. "When I take her you'll be glad enough to join us; that is, if we will have you." Then Madame Socani ground her teeth together, and turned up her nose with redoubled scorn.