It seemed the funniest thing in the world to Mabel that they should be about to be chaperoned by Mrs. Clutterbuck. In some unaccountable way it drew her more out of her loneliness than anything she had experienced in London. On the other hand, she was constantly reminding herself how much amused some people in Ridgetown would be if they only knew. They drove to the concert on a spring day when the air had suddenly turned warm. The streets were sparkling with a radiance of budding leaves, of struggling blossom; and all the world seemed to be turning in at the great gates of the house beyond St. James’. It was not to be expected that one should know these people, though, as Jean declared, "Every little boarding-house keeper in Bayswater could tell you who was stepping out of the carriage in front of you." There was a great crowd inside; heated rooms and a wide vestibule, and a hall where a platform was arranged with crimson seats facing it and denoting royalty. Mrs. Clutterbuck’s timidity came on her with a rush. She could hardly produce her two tickets. It was Mabel who saved the situation and piloted them in as though she understood exactly where to go. There was a hush of expectancy in the beautifully costumed crowd within. Everybody looked past one with craning neck. Mabel began to laugh. "It’s exactly as though they were built on a slant," she declared. In the end they found seats on the stairs beside the wife of an ambassador. "My dear," said Mrs. Clutterbuck in rather a breathless way to Mabel. "My dear, just think of it." Mabel immediately regretted having brought her there. "But everybody is sitting on the stairs," she said gravely. "It’s quite all right. Lady Emily told me she once took a seat in an elevator in somebody’s house because there was no room elsewhere. She spent an hour going up and down, not having the courage to get out." Mrs. Clutterbuck smiled nervously. "It isn’t that, my dear. It’s the gown, that one in front of you. Every inch of the lace is hand-made." Mrs. Clutterbuck was quite enervated by the discovery. "Oh," said Mabel in quite a relieved way, "was that it? I began to blame myself for bringing you to the stairs." "Isn’t it fun?" said Elsie. "Much funnier looking at these people than it will be looking at royalty. I never saw so many lorgnettes." A sudden movement made them rise. A group of princesses with bouquets appeared and took their seats on the red chairs. "Oh," said Jean with a sigh, as they sat down again. "Think of the poor artists now." She had grown quite pale. "I don’t think I shall ever be able to perform," she said. "My heart simply stops beating on an occasion of this sort."