monopolize Stella almost entirely. Alan had declined the invitation with
the excuse of wanting a steady hand and eye for to-morrow. But Michael
fancied there was another reason.

Stella played three times and was much applauded.

"Very sporting effort, by Jove," said Lonsdale, and this was probably
the motive of most of the commendation, though there was a group of
really musical people in the darkest corner who emerged between each
occasion and condoled with Michael on having to hear his sister play in
such inadequate surroundings.

Michael himself was less moved by Stella's playing than he had ever
been. Nor was this coldness due to any anxiety for her success. He was
sure enough of that in this uncritical audience.

"Do you think Stella plays as well as she did?" he asked Mrs. Ross.

"Perhaps this evening she may be a little excited," Mrs. Ross suggested.

"Perhaps," said Michael doubtfully. "But what I mean is that, if she
isn't going to advance quite definitely, there really isn't any longer
an excuse for her to arrogate to herself a special code of behavior."

"Stella says a great deal more than she does," Mrs. Ross reassured him.
"You'd be surprised, as indeed I was surprised, to find how simple and
childlike she really is. I think an audience is never good for her."

"But, after all, her life is going to be one audience after another in
quick succession," Michael pointed out.

"Gradually an audience will cease to rouse her into any violence of
thought or accentuation of superficial action--oh, Michael," Mrs. Ross
exclaimed, breaking off, "what dreadfully long words you're tempting me
to use, and why do you make me talk about Stella? I'd really rather talk
about you."

"Stella is becoming a problem to me," said Michael.

"And you yourself are no longer a problem to yourself?" Mrs. Ross
inquired.

"Not in the sense I was, when we last talked together."

Michael was a little embarrassed by recalling that conversation. It
seemed to link him too closely for his pleasure to the behavior which
had led up to it, to be a part of himself at the time, farouche and
uncontrolled.

"And all worries have passed away?" persisted Mrs. Ross.

"Yes, yes," said Michael quickly. "For one thing," he added as if he
thought he had been too abrupt, "I'm too comfortably off to worry much
about anything. Boredom is the only problem I shall ever have to face.
Seriously though, Mrs. Ross, I really am rather shocked when I