d have been sufficient indication of their
disapproval. "I am not beaten yet!" cried Cleo, with frenzy. "The day
will come when these people will fight and trample over one another's
bodies to catch the least glimpse of me. To-day they have rejected me
with scorn, as they have always rejected the greatest. Read the early
careers of the actresses the world now worships! But I am a hundred
times more determined than before. The public shall treasure the dust
my feet have trod on. They shall look back on to-night as a blot on
their lives. My genius shall triumph! My genius shall force them to
submission!"

However, he induced her to come and have a little supper alone with
him. As they passed out through the stage door the man handed him a
twisted note, which Cleo was too absorbed to notice. A glance sufficed
to enable him to recognize Helen's writing, though it was but hastily
scrawled in lead. The fact that it was addressed to him in his
newly-assumed name was the final confirmation of her knowledge of his
fate. He put it away till he could read it, trying not to wonder at
its contents.

Meanwhile, he was shutting his eyes as to what was to follow. He knew
very well that even if he opened them he would equally see nothing,
but it gave him some comfort to imagine he was shutting out a view it
were better not to look at. He managed to get Cleo to eat and drink a
little, and when she was calmer she told him the theatre was to open
the next evening just as if they had scored a great success. He knew
better than to make any show of opposition or disapproval just then,
though his heart became still heavier at this announcement of hers. He
mentally vowed, however, he would take care to remain behind the
scenes. He did not venture to ask her whether she intended to repeat
"the innovation" that had done the mischief, because he feared her
pride might force her to defiant assertion that she would most
certainly repeat it; whereas, if no reference were made to it, she
would, in all probability, quietly omit it.

She ended by a great fit of hysteric weeping that lasted half the
night.

CHAPTER VI.

"My poor, dear Morgan," read Lady Thiselton's note. "My heart is
a-bleeding. The moment I saw her appear I understood everything.
Of course, I don't know how you came to meet her, but such a
creature was bound to be fatal to you. Your marriage to her can
only be considered as the veriest mockery.