one on the
stage, finding it more attractive than the Foreign Office, for which
he had been originally intended. He had had no reason as yet to regret
his apostasy, for he had obtained almost at once an engagement in a
leading West-end theatre, while his social prospects had not been
materially affected by the change; partly because the world has become
more liberal of late in these matters, and partly because he had
contrived to gain a tolerably secure position in it already, by the
help of a pleasant manner and the musical and dramatic accomplishments
which had led him to adopt the stage as his profession.

Like Holroyd, he had known Mabel from a child, and as she grew up had
felt her attraction too much for his peace of mind. His one misgiving
in going on the stage had been lest it should lessen his chance of
finding favour with her.

This fear proved groundless: Mabel had not altered to him in the
least. But his successes as an amateur had not followed him to the
public stage; he had not as yet been entrusted with any but very minor
_roles_, and was already disenchanted enough with his profession to be
willing to give it up on very moderate provocation.

'Why, Holroyd, I didn't see you over there. How are you?' he said
cordially, though his secret feelings were anything but cordial, for
he had long seen reason to consider Vincent as a possible rival.

'Vincent has come to say good-bye,' explained Dolly. 'He's going to
India to-morrow.'

'Good-bye!' said Caffyn, his face clearing: 'that's rather sudden,
isn't it, Holroyd? Well, I'm very glad I am able to say good-bye too'
(as there is no doubt Caffyn was). 'You never told me you were off so
soon.'

Holroyd had known Caffyn for several years: they had frequently met in
that house, and, though there was little in common between them, their
relations had always been friendly.

'It was rather sudden,' Holroyd said, 'and we haven't met lately.'

'And you're off to-morrow, eh? I'm sorry. We might have managed a
parting dinner before you went--it must be kept till you come back.'

'What was the commission, Harold?' asked Mabel.

'Oh, ah! I met my uncle to-day, and he told me to find out if you
would be able to run down to Chigbourne one Saturday till Monday soon.
I suppose you won't. He's a dear old boy, but he's rather a dull old
pump to stay two whole days with.'

'You forget he's Dolly's godfather,' said Mabel.

'And he's my uncle,' said Caffyn; 'but he's