nel, perhaps a
little hurt.

"Do you mean--"

"The only thing I'm fit for--I'll sing them a song, if you like. 'My
Pretty Jane'--no, that would hardly do--'The Death of Nelson' or 'Rule
Britannia'--"

"Wouldn't there be rather a risk, Lionel? If you were to miss your
train--and disappoint a great audience in London?" she said, gently.

"Oh, I'll take my chance of that? I'm used to it," he said, "I'll have
Dick and the pony waiting outside. Oh, yes, I'll sing something for
them."

"It will be very kind of you," she said.

And again, as they went to this or that cottage, to see that the small
convalescent folk were afforded every possible means of holding high
holiday (how fortunate they were as compared with thousands of similar
unfortunates, shivering away the hopeless hours in dingy courts and
alleys, gin clutching at every penny, that might have got food for their
empty stomachs or rags for their poor shrunken limbs!), it was to
Maurice Mangan that Francie chiefly talked, and, indeed, he seemed to
know all about those patient little sufferers, and the time they had
been down here, and when they might have to be sent back to London to
make way for their successors. There was also a question as to which of
their toys they might be permitted to carry off with them.

"Oh, I wouldn't deprive them of one," Mangan said, distinctly. "I've
brought down a heap more this morning."

"Again--again?" she said, almost reproachfully; but the gentle gray eyes
looked pleased, notwithstanding.

Well, that Christmas evening was spent in the doctor's house with much
quiet enjoyment; for the old people were proud to have their only son
with them for so long a time; and Francie seemed glad to have the
various labors of the day over; and Maurice Mangan, with quite unwonted
zest, kept the talk flowing free. Next morning was chiefly devoted to
preparations for the big entertainment to be given in the school-room;
and in due course Lionel redeemed his promise by singing no fewer than
four songs--at the shyly proffered request of the vicar's pretty
daughters; thereafter, leaving Maurice to conduct the gay proceedings to
a close, he got out and jumped into the trap and was driven off to the
station. He arrived at the New Theatre in plenty of time; the odor of
consumed gas was almost a shock to him, well as he was used to it, after
the clear air of Winstead.

And did he grudge or envy the obvious interest and confidence that
appeared