It was very delightful now that the two Leightons should come under those gently stretching wings of the reinvigorated Professor’s wife. At the time of a call from Mrs. Clutterbuck, Mabel and Jean had just received tickets from Lady Emily for a concert at a great house. The concert, to those who bought guinea tickets, was not so important as the fact that royal ears would listen to it. Herr Slavska disposed of the affair in a speech which could not be taken down in words. His theme was the rush of the "stupids" to see a royal personage, and the tragedy of the poor "stars" of artists who could hardly afford the cab which protected their costumes. Yet some members of his profession, he averred, would rather lose a meal or two than lose the chance of seeing their name in red letters and of bowing to encores from royalty. "And why not?" asked Jean. "I think it would be lovely to bow to royalty." "Where is ze art?" he asked as a wind-up. "Nowhere!" "That’s nonsense, you know," Jean confided afterwards. "I think there must be a lot of art in being able to sing to kings and queens. Besides, why shouldn’t they wave their royal hands, and produce us, as it were--like Aladdin, you know." Jean already saw herself at Windsor. Mabel merely concerned herself with the fact that Mr. Green was to play. He had not the scruples of Herr Slavska. "Although it’s an abominable practice," said he. "It is the artists who make the sacrifice. Everybody else gets something for it. The crowd gets royalty, royalty gets music, charities get gold. We get momentary applause--that is all." "That’s what I’m living for," declared Jean, "just a little, a very little momentary applause. Then I would swell like a peacock, Mabel, I really should. The artists don’t get nothing out of it after all. They get appreciation." Mrs. Clutterbuck was intensely interested in the concert. "Do you mean to say there’s to be a prince at it?" she asked. There were to be princesses also, it seemed. "Oh," said Mabel, "how lovely it would have been for Elsie and you to go." She saw the experience that it would be for a little home bird of the Mrs. Clutterbuck type. She considered for a moment--"Couldn’t she give up her ticket for one of them?" Mrs. Clutterbuck saw the indecision in her face. "No, my dear, no," said she, "I know the thought in your mind. I have a much better plan." The pleasure of being at last able to dispense favours--transformed her face. She turned with an expectant, delighted look to Elsie. "If we could go together," said she, "and it wouldn’t be a bore to both of you to sit with two country cousins like ourselves, I should take two tickets. It would be charming." This plan was received with the greatest acclamation. "We ought to have a chaperon anyhow," said Jean.