Belle Yorke was friendly but not familiar with her stage associates. Perhaps there is no course which gives more offence than that. It is much easier to forgive downright rudeness than the perfect courtesy which makes others keep their distance. Some of the affronted ones were women, and the charity of women for women, as a rule, is not of the kind which covereth a multitude of sins. The eyes that began to watch Belle Yorke were robbed of sleep by jealousy. Something like a throb of exultation went through the ranks of those to whom Belle Yorke’s innocence was a stumbling-block when it was discovered that Belle Yorke had a friend. Mr. Despencer, to do him justice, had not invented, nor had he originated, the report which he had mentioned to the marchioness, and repeated to Hammond. It goes without saying that he believed it to be true. Such reports are like Euclid’s axioms: no one requires to have them demonstrated. It had not even occurred to him that he was doing an injury to Belle Yorke in repeating it; nor did it injure her in the eyes of the public, nor in those of the managers of the music-halls. What a woman loses in reputation she gains in celebrity. As soon as Belle Yorke’s manager heard that she was protected by the Marquis of Severn he rubbed his hands and silently raised her salary. When Belle Yorke opened the door and saw who was in her mother’s parlor she stood still, betrayed into a stifled cry and a blush that would not be stifled. Then she stepped in slowly, and laid down on the table some paper bags which she was carrying in her hands. A pang of compunction shot through Hammond’s breast as she raised her eyes to his. There was something in Belle Yorke’s eyes which touched most people. They were always laughing, and yet somehow it always seemed as though they were laughing in order to keep themselves from tears. Looking into their clear depths, the man felt ashamed of his errand, and ashamed of his presence there, and he stood before her unable to speak. It was she who found words first. “This is too bad of you, Mr. Hammond! You had no business to come here. You know I don’t allow it.” But there was something in the voice that undid the reproach of the words. Hammond’s courage came back to him again. “I have no defence to make,” he answered, in the same light vein. “The temptation was too strong for me, and I yielded to it. I plead the First Offenders’ Act.” Belle turned gayly to her mother, who had concealed, by a strong effort, all traces of her recent agitation. “What punishment shall we give him? I think, sir, you shall be sentenced to stay to tea.” She opened the paper bags, and produced a store of those fearful and wonderful delicacies variously named crumpets, or pikelets, and said to have been invented by a member of the medical profession. “You see you are in luck. To-day is Bobby’s birthday, and we are going to have a cake and all sorts of luxuries.”