"Good-night, mumsey; good-night, God," murmured Meg, thinking she was saying her prayers, and fell fast asleep. Keith went downstairs again, and met Fenton in the hall. "Say!" exclaimed that gentleman, "where have you been?" "Putting Meg to bed," replied Stewart, laughing. "I found her wandering about like an unquiet spirit," and having no desire for a conversation with Fenton, he strolled off to the drawing-room leaving the American looking after him with an angry frown. No one was in the drawing-room but Ezra and the ladies--the former being seated at the piano playing over the music of "Eblis," while Kitty Marchurst stood beside him, looking over his shoulder. Lazarus had just finished a valse, which was not by any means original, being made out of reminiscences of other music. "There's only one decent thing in the whole opera," said Kitty impatiently--"this," and she hummed a few bars; "it's called, 'Woman's Deceit.'" "Disagreeable title," said Keith idly. "But a capital song," retorted Kitty "Eblis sings it--that's the principal character." "You seem anxious to play the devil," said Stewart, with a smile. "What do you mean?" Keith shrugged his shoulders. "Eblis is the Oriental name for the Devil." "Oh, I understand." Kitty's quick perception seized the idea at once. "Yes, there would be some fun in playing such a character." "Then give myself and Lazarus a commission to write you a part. I am anxious to make a start, and I think Lazarus would write charming music. I'll be librettist, and, of course, can write the character to suit you." Kitty glanced critically at him. "Can you compose music," she asked Lazarus. In answer, he played a charming gavotte, bright and crisp, with a quaint rhythm. "Very pretty," said Kitty critically, "but not my style. Play something with a little more 'go' in it." "Like this?" He brought his hands down on the ivory keys with a tremendous crash, and plunged into a wild fantastic galop that made everybody long to dance. Kitty clapped her hands, and her whole face lighted up with enthusiasm as the brilliancy and dash of the melody carried her away. "Bravo!" she cried, when he finished. "That's what I want; write me music like that, and I'll engage to have it produced. You'll do. Now, sir," turning to Keith, "what's your idea?" "Rather a burlesque than opera-bouffe," he answered; "what would you say to 'Faust Upset?'" "Ah, bah! we've had so many burlesques on Faust." "Not such a one as I propose to write. I intend to twist the whole legend round; make Miss Faust a Girton girl who has grown old, and longs for love, invokes the Power of Evil, enter Caprice as Miss Mephistopheles, a female demon, rejuvenates Miss Faust by paint and powder, takes her to see Mr. Marguerite, who is a young athlete, and so throughout the whole legend; to conclude with Miss Mephistopheles falling in love with Mr. Marguerite, and disputing possession with Miss Faust."