ruined by the long
and highly unnecessary tirade which had been assigned to the hero,
Vincent's philosophy had been severely shaken.

And so at this, some impulse, too strong for all other considerations,
possessed him to do what he could to remove that particular blemish at
least--it was not wise, but it was absolutely disinterested.

He suggested that a shorter and simpler sentence at the critical
moment might prove more effective than a long set speech.

Mrs. Featherstone smiled an annoyed little smile. 'You don't quite
understand the point,' she said. 'There was no question about the
_text_--I had no idea of altering that: we are merely in doubt as to
the various positions at the fall of the curtain!'

'I'm afraid I've no suggestions to make, then,' said Vincent, not
without some inward heat.

'Oh, but,' put in Caffyn, and his lip curled with malicious enjoyment,
'give us an idea of the short simple sentence you would
substitute--it's easy enough to make a general criticism of that
sort.'

'Yes, indeed,' said Mrs. Featherstone. 'That is only fair, Mr.
Holroyd!'

If he had been cooler he might have resisted what was obviously a
challenge from the enemy, but just then he had lost some of his usual
self-control. 'Something of this kind,' he said, and gave the line he
had originally written.

'Now that is very funny,' said Mrs. Featherstone, icily. 'Really. Why,
do you know, my dear Mr. Holroyd, that the speech you find such fault
with happens to be just _the_ one I took entire from the book itself!'
And it was in fact one of Mark's improvements.

Vincent then saw for the first time that Mabel had joined the group,
and he was angry with himself for his folly.

'Where has Ashburn got to? We _must_ tell him that!' cried Caffyn.
'That distinguished man has been keeping out of the way all the
evening. There he is over there in the corner!' and he gave him a sign
that he was wanted. No one had seen Mark for some little time, and he
had interfered very little during the rehearsal. Now as he came
towards them he looked shaken and ill.

'My dear fellow,' said Caffyn, 'this presumptuous man here has been
suggesting that your immortal dialogue wants cutting badly. Crush
him!'

'He has every right to his opinion,' said Mark, with an effort.

'Ah,' said Caffyn with a keen appreciation of the situation, 'but just
explain your views to him, Holroyd. He _may_ think there's something
in them!'

'It is a pity,' said