effusions. A malignant fever
raging up the coast, had burnt out that scene for ever, leaving Anne
alone and aghast, for her father, the first horror and remorse over,
subsided once more into his laboratory. Then had come a succession of
governesses; finally the library was discovered; she ceased to miss
her old companions. But she never forgot them, and no doubt the
sweetness and melancholy of the memory did as much as the imaginary
Byam Warner to save her from the fate of her dry dehumanised father.

Anne came to herself as a charade progressed, and Miss Ogilvy
gaily commented upon the interpretation of the middle syllable of
Caterpillar, as A, in the architecture of which one of the handsomest
girls and her swain made a striking silhouette. Then she remembered
that the next name on the programme was Warner's; he was to read for
half an hour from his own work; after which all would hie themselves
to the music room and dance.

There was a longer interval than usual. Anne's hands and feet became
nerveless bits of ice. Had his courage given out? Had he run away?
Worse still, was he nerving himself to an ordeal to which he would
prove unequal? A humiliating breakdown! Anne's blood pounded through
her body as he finally emerged from the curtains, and she broke her
fan, much to the amusement of Miss Ogilvy.

The company, although it had once or twice permitted its applause to
go beyond the bounds prescribed by elegant civility, had reserved its
real enthusiasm for the poet whose halo of present fashion electrified
their springs of Christianity. As he entered, correctly attired,
although more soberly than most of his audience, and walked slowly to
the reading stand, they not only clapped but stamped and cried his
name until the walls resounded; and so excited the coloured people
(with whom his popularity had never waned) that a stentorian chorus
burst through the windows and drowned the more polite if no less
ardent greeting of the elect.

Warner blushed faintly and bent his head in acknowledgment, but
otherwise gave no sign of the astonishment he must feel, and stood
quite still until the noise had died away down to its final echo in
the neighbourhood of the palm avenue. When he finally lifted his book
a sudden breathless silence fell upon the company. Anne leaned over
the railing in almost uncontrollable excitement, her face white, her
breath short. Lord Hunsdon was too agitated himself to observe her,
but the unaffect