g it," he said.

"Will you? Will you really? You know, I'm afraid those two girls will
never give enough force to it. And it is a man's song--if you wouldn't
mind, Mr. Moore."

"Where can I get the music? I'll just look it over."

Quite a little murmur of interest went through the place when it was
rumored that Lionel Moore was about to sing Lady Sybil's "Soldiers'
Marching Song," and when he stepped on to the platform at the upper end
of the gallery, people came swarming in from the other rooms. Lady Sybil
herself was to play the accompaniment--the grand piano being fully
opened so as to give free egress to the marshalled chords; and when she
sat down to the keyboard, it was apparent that the tall, pale, handsome
young lady was not a little tremulous and anxious. Indeed, it was a very
good thing for the composer that she had got Lionel Moore to sing the
song; for the quite trivial and commonplace character of the music was
in a large measure concealed by the fine and resonant quality of his
rich baritone notes. The chorus was not much of a success--Lady Sybil's
promised accomplices seemed to have found their courage fail them at the
critical moment; but as for the martial ditty itself, it appeared to
take the public ear very well; and when Lionel finally folded the music
together again, there was quite a little tempest of clapping of hands.
Here and there a half-hearted demand for a repetition was heard; but
this was understood to be merely a compliment to Lady Sybil; and indeed
Lionel strolled out of the room as soon as his duties were over.
Fortunately no one was so indiscreet as to ask him what he privately
thought of the "Soldiers' Marching Song," or of its chances of being
recommended to the British Army by his royal highness the
commander-in-chief.

When at length Lionel thought it was about time for him to slip away
quietly from these brilliant, busy, murmuring rooms, he went to bid his
hostess privately good-night.

"It was so awfully kind of you, Mr. Moore," she said, graciously, "to
give us the chance of making Mr. Quirk's acquaintance. He is so
interesting, you know, so unconventional, so original in his
opinions--quite a treat to listen to him, I assure you. I've sent him a
copy of my poor little book; some time or other I wish you could get to
know what he thinks of it?"

"Oh, yes, certainly. I will ask him," Lionel said; and again he bade her
good-night, and took his leave.

But as he was going b