than to applaud her, the spectators watched in silence.
A moment, and then a clear bugle-like note sounded. Patty started up,
passed her hand across her brow, opened her eyes, smiled slowly, and
more and more merrily, then sprang up, and as the lights made her
costume appear to be of the gold and russet red of autumn, she burst
into a wild woodland dance such as a veritable Dryad might have
performed. The music was rich, triumphant, and the whole atmosphere
was filled with the glory of the crown of the year. By a clever
contrivance, autumn leaves came fluttering down and Patty's bare feet
nestled in them with childish enjoyment. Her smile was roguish, she
was a witch, an eerie thing. The orange light glowed and shone, and at
the height of a tumultuous burst of music, there was a sudden pause.
Patty stopped still, her smile faded, and the colours changed from
autumn glows to a cold wintry blue. Her gown became white, with blue
shadows, the music was sharp and frosty. Patty danced with staccato
steps, with little shivers of cold. The ground now appeared to be
covered with frost, and her feet recoiled as they touched it. The
music whistled like winter blasts. A fine snow seemed to fall, the
blue shadows faded, all was white, and Patty, whirling, faster and
faster, was like a white fairy, white robes, white arms, white feet,
and a sparkling white veil, that grew more and more voluminous as she
shook out its hidden folds. Faster she went, whirling, twirling,
swirling, like a leaf in the wind, until, completely swathed in the
great white veil, she vanished between the parted trees at the back of
the stage.

The music ceased, the lights blazed up, the dance was over. A moment
passed as the audience came back to earth, and then the applause was
tremendous. Hands clapped, sonorously, voices shouted "Bravo!" and
other words of plaudit; and "Encore!" was repeatedly demanded.

But Mr. Grantham had forbidden Patty to return to the stage, even to
acknowledge the laudation. He believed in the better effect of an
unspoiled remembrance of her last tableau.

So, shaking with excitement and weariness, Patty sank into a chair in
the dressing-room, and Alla began to draw on her stockings.

"You must rest quietly, dear Patricia, for a half hour at least," she
said, solicitously. "You are quite exhausted. But it was wonderful!
I have never seen anything so beautiful! You will be feted and praised
to death. I've sent for