guity would be well attended; and indeed | terest in it than in any other portion of the when Brian, who arrived rather late on opera. For the overture, at any rate, was the evening announced as "destined to mark the dawn of a new epoch in the annals of dramatic representation," reached the pretty little playhouse, he found it thronged from floor to roof. Boxes, stalls, pit, and gallery were alike as full as they could hold; in various parts of the house he noticed friendly and familiar faces; almost immediately opposite to him sat Beatrice, who favored him with a smiling signal of recognition. Miss Joy was be side her; behind them were Gilbert and Stapleford; and in the background could be discerned the gloomy countenance of Sir Joseph Huntley. all his own; there was no flavor of Phipps about it, save such as was inseparable from the character of the whole composi tion. He listened to it now phlegmatically enough, noticing only with a dull kind of satisfaction that the orchestra was doing him full justice; but when it came to an end and there burst out from all quarters of the house a sudden and spontaneous tumult of applause, his heart gave a great bound. He was not such a stoic as he had imagined himself, after all. To hear another man cheered and clapped by an audience some hundreds strong is the commonest thing in the world; there is nothing exciting about it, unless it reaches positively rapturous heights, and even then one's excitement is apt to be tempered by doubts as to whether he has done anything to deserve it. But very different are the sensations of him to whom this uproar is addressed. It may It was from the back of a stage box, occupied by Phipps and sundry other friends, that the young composer took this survey of his judges. Phipps, who had hurried off to the theatre immediately after a dinner for which he had had little appetite, and who was looking pale and nervous, hailed him, as usual, with a mix-be worth much or it may be worth next to ture of admiration and remonstrance. "Never saw such a fellow in all my born days! Drops in casually at the last moment, as if he had happened to remember that there was a new play on, and thought perhaps it might amuse him to have a look at it. Not particularly keen about being there for the overture, you know; has heard it already, in fact. Well, I'm not bloodthirsty, and as a general thing I shouldn't care to attend an execution; but I should like to see you hung, Segrave, I should really! It would be a sort of apotheosis of the self-satisfied man, total indifference to the words or ways of the rest of creation raised to its highest expression." nothing; it may be merited or unmerited; but few indeed are the mortals whose blood does not course wildly through their veins when for the first time the plaudits of an assemblage of their fellow-men fall upon their ears. Readers of Brian Segrave's history will not, surely, be so cruel as to laugh if it must be recorded of him that his inward ejaculation, as the curtain rose upon the first scene of "The King's Veto," was, “I haven't lived altogether in vain, then." The first act was designed as perhaps all first acts should be- to put the audience in good humor and stimulate its curiosity. It opened with the coronation of Conrad, king of Democratia, a cereBrian did not think it worth while to mony which admitted of much magnifiexplain how very little self-satisfaction cence of costume and scenery and gave had to do with his calmness, or how far occasion for the introduction of a stirring he was from being indifferent to the words chorus. Some smart dialogue between and ways of some of his fellow-creatures. the youthful monarch and his ministers He seated himself close to the door, de- upon the subject of their bill for a sweepclining the front place offered to him; ating extension of the franchise had been the same moment the conductor of the orchestra raised his bâton, and conversation was hushed. In truth, he himself was a little surprised that he should feel so cool. His senses were curiously numb; it seemed to him that this evening was the conclusion of a chapter in his life; he wanted to get it over and see what was beyond. The chapter had been a fiasco, and its finale, whatever that might be like, could not possibly mend it. Yet he had taken particular pains about this overture, feeling somewhat more of a personal in turned to account by the author, who knew well that nothing delights the British playgoer more than a hit at contemporary statesmanship. His colleague and the prima donna scored decisively by a plaintive song in which the latter, as Phyllis, lamented the inferiority of birth which separated her from her royal lover, and the curtain fell upon the king's resolve to exercise his right of veto and the consternation of his responsible advisers. The fate of a piece or at all events its success - is seldom a matter of certainty before two-thirds of it have been per- | formed; nevertheless, the very warm reception accorded to this first act was perhaps sufficient to justify Phipps in declaring that nothing but a miracle could prove fatal to "The King's Veto" now. He was greatly elated, and generous withal in his elation, saying, "I don't know whether you could have done as well as this without me, Segrave; but I'm quite sure that I could never have done as well without you." which his imagination had placed her anything to do with the too flattering estimate which she had been pleased to form of his abilities. Her presence was sweet to him, and so was her praise, exaggerated though it might be. "I am glad you like the music," he said simply. "Of course I like it; nothing could be more charming. Only I don't think you must do this sort of thing again; it was all very well as a stepping-stone. I don't set up to be a competent critic, but from the first I have known that you have genius." She paused for a moment, and then asked, "Do you remember that evening, ever so long ago, when I slipped into St. Michael's, and you were playing the organ and never knew I was there?" And Brian, though no longer carried out of himself as he had been by that first tribute of applause, was yet able to re-ius; even an ignoramus can discern genspond in the manner expected of him with something like heartiness, and felt a good deal more fit than he had done an hour before to face the necessary ordeal of visiting Miss Huntley's box. He found only Miss Joy and Sir Joseph with her, the other two men having gone out to smoke, and when her companions had delivered themselves of some complimentary remarks, for which it is to be feared that they obtained but little gratitude, she made him take the chair directly behind her, turning round so as to face him. "I am so very, very glad!" she exclaimed. "I knew you would be victorious; but I was a little bit frightened, all the same. Swine, you know, don't appreciate pearls, and when I saw all this crowd I couldn't help being afraid that the swine must be in an alarming majority. I was quite wrong, though. Far be it from me to call them names, after their splendid behavior! I should like to shake hands with them all round!" "Oh, but it is too early to talk about victory yet," objected Brian. "Besides, the glory, such as it is, belongs to Phipps. It is really his piece, not mine." "What absurd nonsense! Mr. Phipps, indeed! A funny little man who writes funny little plays, which, I grant you, are amusing enough in their funny little way, but which nobody out of a lunatic asylum would ever dream of calling works of genius. Don't you see that your music has triumphed in spite of him, not because of him? He was within an ace of making you ridiculous several times, and if he had done that I would never have spoken to him again!" There was a delicate pink flush upon her cheeks; her clear eyes had an unusual light in them; she seemed to be sincere; and, after all, why should she not be? Brian had never doubted that she liked him and wished him well, nor had her dethronement from that high pedestal upon "Yes," he answered sadly; "I remem ber it very well, and all that you said. Miss Joy was outside in the churchyard, transferring a flaming sunset into watercolors. Afterwards we met my poor old father." "Yes, and you made him angry by talking Radicalism. Wasn't it then that I ventured to compare you and your brother to Jacob and Esau? And was I so very far wrong, after all?" "Is he not rightly named Jacob? for he hath supplanted me these two times,' murmured Brian. He spoke involuntarily; but when he looked up and saw her eyes turned questioningly upon him, he colored a little. Perhaps, though, she did not understand his allusion, for she went on: "You see!. you see! And now you have embraced Jacob, just as poor Esau did, and you are content to be an outcast, and all is for the best in the best of possible worlds." Then the curtain rose upon act the second, and she turned quickly to Brian, saying, "Stay where you are; Jacob has found some friends on the other side of the house; he won't come back while you keep possession of his place." This was pleasant hearing for Brian. Assuredly she could not be in love with a man of whom she spoke in that tone, and there began to shine upon him the glimmer of a faint hope that he had misjudged her. The threadbare simile of the moth and the candle came into his mind and gave him comfort. There are women who attract men for the simple reason that they cannot help it; it is neither fair nor reasonable to treat attractiveness as a crime. "Haven't I singed my own wings?" thought Brian; "and is she to blame for that?" For to-night, at all events, he would try to forget what Sir Joseph had told him. If he had been worshipping a false goddess during so many months, it was a small matter that he should continue to worship her for a few hours. So he surrendered himself to the delight of sitting close to her, watching the pleasure which she derived from his composition, and of listening to the comments which she threw back to him from time to time over her shoulder. Now the music of the second act was in no way inferior to that of the first, nor was Beatrice sparing of her panegyrics upon it; yet, as the action of the piece advanced, it became evident that, in spite of her disparaging criticism upon Mr. Phipps, she was a good deal interested in his plot. The scene in which Phyllis was made to renounce the king, notwithstanding his protestations and reproaches, seemed to please her greatly. 66 Why, the man is as stupid and unjust as if he were a fact instead of a fiction!" she exclaimed. And when the same astute maiden was represented as joining the Socialist plot for the assassination of her lover, intending all the time to save him by sacrificing her own life and that of his chief enemy, Miss Huntley abruptly shifted her chair, bringing herself almost face to face with Brian. "So that is your notion of a heroine!" said she triumphantly. "You admit that she is justified in deceiving everybody, and even in compassing the death of a scoundrel. You admit that all is fair in love and in war." "Oh no, I don't," answered Brian, laughing. "I decline to be responsible for Phipps's morality; and, indeed, I suspect that Miss Phyllis is only setting the decalogue at defiance because the play couldn't be made to work upon any other terms." the question with Miss Joy close at hand. Moreover, Sir Joseph and Stapleford had now resumed their places, and were plying him with kind and congratulatory whispers. During the second entr'acte Gilbert reappeared, and then Brian rose. "I think Phipps will want me to go behind with him and say what is civil to all these eminent artistes who have been doing so well for us," he remarked. 'Besides, I do feel grateful to them.' "But you will come back again, won't you?" asked Beatrice. 66 'Yes, if you will allow me," he answered, and left the box, carrying away with him a much lighter heart than he had brought. Phipps was in high good-humor. Brian found him surrounded by a bevy of admiring friends, whose views as to the respective merits of author and composer may not have been identical with those of Miss Huntley; but he disengaged himself at once to clap his colleague on the back. 66 'Well, old fellow," said he, " you were right to be confident. I suppose you knew your own value better than I did; but I must own that I never anticipated taking the public by storm in this way. We're all right now; and I don't think I'm too sanguine in saying that we may look forward to a six or eight months' run." An equally hopeful and jubilant spirit reigned behind the scenes, whither Brian presently repaired. Everybody was smiling, for everybody foresaw that "The King's Veto" would provide those engaged in it with bread and butter for some time to come, and there was no one who had not a pleasant word for the young man to whose talents this cheerful prospect was chiefly, if not entirely, due. The manager drank his health in a glass of champagne, and said, with a certain solemnity, "Mr. Segrave, your fortune is made, sir." Yet he could not help being glad to hear her making what sounded so very like an excuse for herself. If she had been guilty Success of all kinds, from winning the of deception, it was something that she battle of Waterloo down to shooting a should be persuaded of the integrity of woodcock, is enjoyable, and there must be her own motives. Not precisely in that something very wrong with the mental or way had he reasoned, the night before; bodily health of a man who fails to enjoy but circumstances alter cases. He did it. Brian, though not unduly elated (for not at the moment think it possible that he was well aware that the writing of such she could be pleading love for Gilbert in operas as this, whether it led to fortune or extenuation of any treachery that she not, could never lead to true fame), enmight have employed towards Kitty Green-joyed it all the more, perhaps, because his wood. Perhaps if he had been alone with her he would have ventured to ask her point-blank what her designs were, but such a straightforward course was out of mental health had only just been re-estab lished. He remained chatting with the manager until long after Phipps had re turned to the front, and the last act was 3 3 an echo of gratitude in Brian's sick heart. There was a call for the authors; Phipps, on the opposite side of the house, could be seen bobbing and grinning like a marionette; then Stapleford seized Brian by the shoulders and pushed him forcibly to the front of the box; and so the whole business came to an end. Our poor hero had passed through a variety of emotions in the course of the evening, but at the finish he found himself very much where he had been at starting, with such added bitterness of spirit as naturally arose from the consciousness of having been fooled. well advanced; and when, conformably to | curtain nor the warm felicitations of the mons. Possibly Brian saw nothing more than he ought to have been prepared to see; possibly there was nothing in Beatrice's present attitude and demeanor inconsistent with that theory of involuntary fascination which he had formulated on her behalf at an earlier period of the evening; but a theory which can be made to fit one set of circumstances decently well often fails altogether to adapt itself to another. Besides, Brian was in love, which is a state of mind very unfavorable to the calm application of theories. "Who is being cheated here?" was his inward comment upon the scene; and there was little consolation in replying, "Everybody." Gilbert might or might not be a dupe, but in any care he was a deceiver, and so, in any case, must Beatrice be. She caught sight of him by-and-by and said something to him, which he did not hear, after which she began once more to pay attention to the play, which was now almost over. But neither the prolonged applause which followed the fall of the Beatrice, as she was leaving the box, paused for a moment beside him. "You don't look very triumphant," she remarked. "Do I not?" returned he. 66 Perhaps I don't feel so." She frowned and bit her lip. She seemed to be going to say something, but apparently changed her mind and passed on. On the threshold, however, she halted, stepped quickly back to him- for he had not moved—and said: "I am going away on Thursday; will you come and see me to-morrow? "I will call, since you wish it," replied Brian coldly. "Since I wish it? I should like to say good-bye to you before I leave, certainly; but my happiness is not so bound up in seeing you again that I should care to drag you to Park Lane against your will. What is the matter with you?" "I will tell you to-morrow, if you like," answered Brian desperately. She looked him straight in the face, pressing her lips together. "Very well, then," she said; "you will find me at home at five o'clock. I am not afraid of anything that you may have to say to me ; but I hope you will think before you speak and remember that there are limits to the privileges of a friend." With that warning ringing in his ears, he left her and submitted to be borne away by Phipps to a supper-party, of which the joyousness can hardly be said to have been augmented by his presence. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE PRIVILEGES OF FRIENDSHIP. WHEN a man or a woman says, “I am not afraid," it is courteous to believe the assertion, but safe to conclude that it is made rather with the intention of frightening somebody else than of testifying to the speaker's intrepidity; for courage has no more need to proclaim itself than virtue. Beatrice Huntley did not succeed in frightening Brian, even though he understood her warning to mean that if he presumed too far she would cease to be his friend. On the other hand, she dreaded his visit a good deal more than she would have done, had she been in possession of that priceless blessing, a clear conscience. Her nerves, ordinarily as steady as a rock, gave her no little trouble that day, and, as a natural consequence, were a source of trouble to others. Sir Joseph was driven discomfited from her presence at an early hour and trotted off to his club, convinced that he had better leave the girl to be dealt with by a capable member of her own sex; Phipps, who dropped in complacently after luncheon, ready to accept the compliments which he conceived to be his due, departed, after a very short stay, with mortification writ large upon his features and the recollection of some amazingly unjust and ironical criticisms in his mind; even Miss Joy did not escape scot free, but came in for one or two snubs so sharp that she withdrew to her bedroom, where, being a foolish and softhearted person, she melted into tears. Having thus created a solitude for herself and given orders that no one was to be admitted, unless Mr. Segrave should call"Mr. Segrave, remember, not Mr. Gilbert Segrave" Beatrice spent the afternoon in wandering restlessly about the room, staring out of the window at the dismal, fog-enveloped park, and trying to fix her attention upon books and newspapers, all of which struck her as being equally devoid of the faintest human interest. Nervousness and irritability are not likely to be lessened by lack of occupation; yet when Brian, punctual to the appointed hour, was shown into Miss Huntley's luxurious sanctum, he was accosted by a lady who turned towards him a countenance wreathed in smiles and, without rising from the low chair in which she was reclining by the fireside, held out her hand to him, saying lazily: "Hasn't it been a horrid day? I haven't stirred from the house and I was just dropping off to sleep. How nice of you to come in and wake me up!" "You asked me to come," returned Brian curtly. "Did I? Oh, yes, I remember; and didn't we have something very like the beginning of a quarrel last night? You were rude, or I thought you were, and as we couldn't very well wrangle in public, we agreed to fight it out afterwards. Well, suppose, on second thoughts, we don't fight it out? Suppose we conclude peace, instead? I never can screw my. self up to the point of quarrelling in cold blood." 66 But this system of tactics was of little avail with a man who was very much in earnest, who had thought over what he had to say and who meant to say it. Why do you try to put me off?" Brian asked. "Is it because you don't want to quarrel with me, and because, as you told me last night, a friend must not strain his privileges farther than they will go? But it seems to me that I should be a poor sort of friend if I held my tongue now, rather than run the risk of displeasing you. I think, when you asked what was the matter with me, you could have an swered the question for yourself; I think you must know that, however dull I may be, I am not quite blind. And even if I were, there are plenty of people able and willing to open my eyes 66 "I Stop a moment," she interrupted. will allow, if you like, that a friend is sometimes entitled to ask for explanations; but then he must have shown himself worthy of them. For my own part, I should never think it worth while to explain myself to any one who could not trust me. One knows how that sort of thing always ends. You may satisfy him to-day, but he will be dissatisfied again to-morrow; and so it goes on until, some fine morning, you find that your stock of patience is exhausted. I prefer to anticipate a foregone conclusion." "I don't think I am the kind of friend 66 that you describe," said Brian; I am not given to being distrustful; but I won't deny that I distrust you now. After that, you can answer me or not, as you think best; but it isn't a great deal that I ask of you. If you will simply tell me that all this is untrue, that shall be enoughthough, of course, I had rather that you told me a little more." "Your moderation does you credit; only you are not quite as lucid as you might be. What is it that I am to admit or deny?" "I thought, perhaps, you would not force me to put such a hateful question into words. Is it true or untrue that you are trying to induce Gilbert to break off his engagement? "And if it were true?" Brian hesitated. "I won't believe it!" he exclaimed. "I won't believe until you admit it." |