e; and I am to go to the
green-room and help the ladies to dress."

"No!" the man said, his eyes flashing--"No! I command you not to enter
the theatre! Do you hear?"

The child knew when her father's dark eyes flashed like that, and he
spoke in the tones of tragedy, that remonstrance was useless; and the
doctor said he was never to be excited or contradicted, or he might lose
his senses altogether.

"As you please, father," Norah said meekly, and then returned to her
needlework; and the heavy breathing in the corner where the bed was
placed told that her father slept.

About noon there was a sound of feet on the stairs, and a tap at the
door, and a curly head was thrust in. Norah held up her finger and
pointed to the bed, but said in a low whisper:

"Come in, Brian."

"I've brought you my dinner," the boy said. "I did not want it. It's a
meat-pie and a bun. I don't care for meat-pies and--come, Norah, eat
it!"

Norah's blue eyes filled with tears. She was so hungry, but she knew her
father might be hungry too. She glanced at the bed, and Brian understood
the glance.

"Meat-pies are bad for sick folks," he said, shaking his head. "Very
bad! He mustn't touch it."

"I'll keep the bun then, and p'raps that may tempt him with a drop of
the wine you brought yesterday. But, Brian, he is very ill!"

"Well, eat your pie, and then we'll talk," the boy said.

"Not loud, or he may wake."

"I have something to tell you. There's a young gentleman who plays the
violoncello grandly! He comes to the Octagon, you know, and I believe it
was that very gentleman you saw at Mr. Herschel's yesterday. I'm going
to hunt him up; and I'll bring him here, and he is certain to be good to
you."

"I don't want to beg! Oh, Brian, I do not like to beg, and be spurned
like Mr. Herschel spurned me yesterday!"

"He was in a hurry--he did not mean anything unkind. But I have got to
sing a solo at a rehearsal, and I must be gone. Cheer up, Norah! What's
all this rubbish?"

"It's the theatre dresses. Mrs. Betts, the keeper of the wardrobe, gave
me the job. She will pay me, you know."

Brian nodded, and then left the room. His quaint little figure, in
knee-breeches and swallow-tail short coat, with a wide crimped frill
falling over the collar and the wrist-bands, would excite a smile now if
seen in the streets of Bath.

Heavy leather shoes, tied with wide black ribbon, and dull yellow
stockings, which met the legs of the breeches, and