ny comparisons; we surrender
ourselves to the story, and believe the people to be real people all we
can. As for mother, if it weren't a dreadful secret--"

But here the curtains were thrown wide, and out came Miss Burgoyne,
obviously conscious of her magnificent costume, profuse in her apologies
for not appearing sooner. Something had gone wrong, and the mishap had
kept her late; indeed, she had just time to go through the formality of
taking a cup of tea with her guests when she was called and had to get
ready to go.

[Illustration: "_And Nina, hanging some way back, could see them being
presented to Miss Burgoyne._"]

"However, I need not say good-bye just yet," she said to them, as she
tucked up her voluminous train. "Wouldn't you like to look on for a
little while from the wings? You could have the prompter's chair, Lady
Cunyngham, so that you could see the audience or the stage, just as
you chose, if Miss Cunyngham wouldn't mind standing about among the
gasmen."

"If you are sure we shall not be in the way," said the elder lady, who
had, perhaps, a little more curiosity than her daughter.

"Oh, Mr. Moore will show you," said Miss Burgoyne, making no scruple
about preceding her visitors along the corridor and up the steps, for
she had not too much time.

The prompter's office, now that this piece had been running over four
hundred nights, was practically a sinecure, so that there was no trouble
about getting Lady Cunyngham installed in the little corner, whence,
through a small aperture, she could regard the dusky-hued audience or
turn her attention to the stage just as she pleased. Miss Honnor stood
close by her, when she was allowed--keeping out of sight of the opposite
boxes as much as she could, though she observed that the workmen about
her did not care much whether they were visible or not, and that they
talked or called to one another with a fine indifference towards what
was going forward on the stage. At present a minuet was being danced,
and very pretty it was; she could not help noticing how cleverly Miss
Burgoyne managed her train. As for her mother, the old lady seemed
intensely interested and yet conscious all the time that she herself, in
this strange position, was an interloper; again and again she rose and
offered to resign her place to the rather shabby-looking elderly man who
was the rightful occupant; but he just as often begged her to remain--he
seemed mostly interested in the manage