e Atlas
young ladies came out, to be claimed at once by her escort. Very soon
afterwards, Beatrice arrived. She recognized Tavernake at once and
crossed over to him.

"Well?" she asked.

"You looked very nice," he said, slowly, as he led the way down
the street. "Of course, I knew about your singing, but everything
else--seemed such a surprise."

"For instance?"

"Why, I mean your dancing," he went on, "and somehow or other you looked
different on the stage."

She shook her head.

"'Different' won't do for me," she persisted. "I must have something
more specific."

"Well, then, you looked much prettier than I thought you were,"
Tavernake declared, solemnly. "You looked exceedingly nice."

"You really thought so?" she asked, a little doubtfully.

"I really thought so. I thought you looked much nicer than any of the
others."

She squeezed his arm affectionately.

"Dear Leonard," she said, "it's so nice to have you think so. Do you
know, Mr. Grier actually asked me out to supper."

"What impertinence!" Tavernake muttered.

Beatrice threw her head back and laughed.

"My dear brother," she protested, "it was a tremendous compliment. You
must remember that it was entirely through him, too, that I got the
engagement. Four pounds a week I am going to have. Just think of it!"

"Four pounds a week is all very well," Tavernake admitted. "It seems a
great deal of money to earn like that. But I don't think you ought to go
out to supper with any one whom you know so slightly."

"Dear prig! You know, you are a shocking prig, Leonard."

"Am I?" he answered, without offence, and with the air of one seriously
considering the subject.

"Of course you are. How could you help it, living the sort of life
you've led all your days? Never mind, I like you for it. I don't know
whether I want to go out to supper with anybody--I really haven't
decided yet--but if I did, it would certainly be better for me to go
with Mr. Grier, because he can do me no end of good at the theatre, if
he likes."

Tavernake was silent for several moments. He was conscious of feeling
something which he did not altogether understand. He only knew that
it involved a strong and unreasonable dislike to Mr. Grier. Then he
remembered that he was her brother, that he had the right to speak with
authority.

"I hope that you will not go out to supper with any one," he said.

She began to laugh but checked herself.

"Well," she remarked, "that sound