d a shriek of joy when the faint
gleam revealed a glass jar in which a greenish-white fragment of a body
floated forlornly. Finally the gas was lit, the table cleared of papers
and books, and bottles of beer placed upon it instead. They had just
settled down to villainously strong cigars and the beer when a sound
very unexpected to two of them floated out upon the air--the sound of a
girl singing. The voice was a rather deep mezzo; it was singing very
softly an old ballad, to the accompaniment of a few notes very gently
struck now and again on a piano.

Carminow said nothing, but lay back in his chair and puffed out clouds
of smoke over his face. Killigrew looked at him and whistled.

"I say ..." he said.... "Own up, Carminow! Who is it?"

"If you mean who is the lady singing," said Carminow with sudden
stiffness, "she is Miss Grey, who has the room above this. She is a
young lady about whom I think even you would not make your obscene jokes
if you knew her."

"Sits the wind in that quarter?..." thought Killigrew, highly amused.
"I'll roast him...." Aloud he said: "And may I not know her, then,
Carminow? If Miss Grey is a friend of yours, perhaps--"

"I am vewy particular about whom I intwoduce to Miss Grey," said
Carminow unflatteringly; "that is to say, I should first have to find
out whether she wished it. She is quite alone, poor girl."

"Dear me! How is that? Is she some romantic governess out of a place or
a lady who through no fault of her own has come down in the world?"

"Miss Grey is on the stage."

Killigrew roared with laughter. "You hear, Ishmael; here's your chance.
You were saying you didn't know any actresses, and now here's Carminow
with one up his sleeve all ready for you. Tell us all about it, old
chap!"

"I will, if only to stop your stupid little mind from wunning along its
accustomed dirty gwoove," answered Carminow sententiously. "Miss Grey is
the daughter of a clergyman--"

"They all are."

"She is an orphan, that is to say, as good as one, for her mother is
dead and her father too poor to support her. She works very hard when
she can get any work, which I am sowwy to say is not often, and she is
as good as she is clever. I should be vewy glad if I could put her in
the way of more work when the play she is in is taken off, and I thought
you, Killigrew, who know so many people--"

"Artful old bird! So that's what you'd got in your mind, is it? Well I
can't do anything till I've seen