horus of between three and four thousand voices dealing with the
massive and majestic strains of the "Messiah," the spell of the music
fell upon Nina and held absolute sway over her. She got into a curious
state of exaltation; she seemed breathless; sometimes, Mrs. Grey
thought, she shivered a little with the strain of emotion. And all the
time that Mr. Santley was singing "Why do the nations," she held her
hand tightly over her heart; and when he had finished--when the thrilled
multitude broke forth into an extraordinary thunder of enthusiasm--Nina
murmured to herself,

"It is--it is like to take my life-blood away."

But when they were in the train again, and on their way up to town, it
was evident to her companion that the girl had returned to her anxious
fears.

"Mrs. Grey," she said, suddenly, "I speak to Miss Burgoyne to-night."

"Oh, no, don't do that, Miss Nina!" said Mrs. Grey, with much concern,
for she knew something of the circumstances of the case. "I hope you
won't do that! You might simply make matters worse. Mr. Moore would not
have spoken to you if he thought you would interfere, depend upon that.
And if Miss Burgoyne is vexed or angry, what good would you do? I hear
she has a sharp tongue; don't _you_ try her temper, my dear," the little
woman pleaded.

But Nina did not answer these representations; and she was mostly silent
and thoughtful all the way to town. When they reached London, they had
some tea at the railway-station, and she went on at once to the theatre.
She was there early; Miss Burgoyne had not arrived; so Nina lingered
about the corridor, listening to Mlle. Girond's pretty chatter, but not
hearing very much.

At length the prima-donna appeared; and she would have passed Nina
without recognition, had not the latter went forward a step, and said,
somewhat timidly,

"Miss Burgoyne!"

"What?" said Miss Burgoyne, stopping short, and regarding the Italian
girl with a by-no-means-friendly stare.

"May I have a word with you?" Nina said, with a little hesitation.

"Yes; what is it?" the other demanded, abruptly.

"But--but in private?" Nina said again. "In your room?"

"Oh, very well, come in!" Miss Burgoyne said, with but scant courtesy;
and she led the way into her sitting-room, and also intimated to her
maid that she might retire into the inner apartment. Then she turned to
Nina.

"What is it you want?"

But the crisis found Nina quite unprepared. She had constructed no set