and he could not send the ball back, she asked if he was fond of the
theatre, and as he was, very, and had been to one a few nights before,
he became more like himself, and showed some animation in his
description of the piece he had seen, and the performers.

At this juncture a quiet-looking man out of livery came softly into the
room, and asked him deferentially for his keys, as his luggage had
arrived. Seizing the idea that he proposed to unpack for him, an
operation he disliked, he gladly gave them up, wondering whether these
rich people ever did anything for themselves at all.

"I see that you are great upon acting," said Miss Clarissa when the
valet was gone, "and I am so glad! For we are getting up some private
theatricals; you will take a part?"

"Why," said Crawley in some dismay, "I never yet tried to act myself; I
am afraid I should spoil everything."

"Oh no! we have heard all about you from my brother, you know; you have
a good memory, have you not?"

"I believe so; I have never found much difficulty in learning by heart."

"That is one good thing to begin with; we will soon see if you can act
at all. Some of our friends are coming over to-morrow for rehearsal.
We have agreed to try _St. Cupid, or Dorothy's Fortune_, and we want a
`Bellefleur.' You will take the part, will you not? I am to be
`Dorothy Budd.' You will not have so very much to do. Do you know the
play?"

"No, unfortunately, and I--" Crawley began, meaning to back out; but
Miss Clarissa cut him short.

"No matter," she said, "I will fetch you a copy," and she got up and
returned presently with a little book. "You had better read it all
through, and mark your parts with the tags. The tags, you know, are the
last sentences of the speaker before you, to which you have to reply.
You can learn some while you are dressing for dinner; that is a capital
time. And I will give you a hint or two this evening in the billiard-
room. You don't mind?"

What could Crawley say? He _did_ mind, not bargaining for learning
lessons in the holidays; but he could not show himself so uncivil a boor
as to refuse. So he promised to do his best, and when the gong sounded,
took his little book up into the bedroom with him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

CRAWLEY IS TAKEN DOWN THREE PEGS.

"Good gracious!" A large fire was burning in the grate; an easy-chair
was drawn up on one side of it; over the back of an ordinary one
opposite a clean shirt was wa