for you."

"Mamma goes straight at it!" laughed the girl, getting up while Nick
rubbed his canvas before answering. Miriam went to mamma and settled
her bonnet and mantle in preparation for her drive, then stood a moment
with a filial arm about her and as if waiting for their friend's
explanation. This, however, when it came halted visibly.

"Why you said a while ago that if Peter was there you wouldn't act."

"I'll act for _him_," smiled Miriam, inconsequently caressing her
mother.

"It doesn't matter whom it's for!" Mrs. Rooth declared sagaciously.

"Take your drive and relax your mind," said the girl, kissing her. "Come
for me in an hour; not later--but not sooner." She went with her to the
door, bundled her out, closed it behind her and came back to the
position she had quitted. "_This_ is the peace I want!" she gratefully
cried as she settled into it.

XLV

Peter Sherringham said so little during the performance that his
companion was struck by his dumbness, especially as Miriam's acting
seemed to Nick magnificent. He held his breath while she was on the
stage--she gave the whole thing, including the spectator's emotion, such
a lift. She had not carried out her fantastic menace of not exerting
herself, and, as Mrs. Rooth had said, it little mattered for whom she
acted. Nick was conscious in watching her that she went through it all
for herself, for the idea that possessed her and that she rendered with
extraordinary breadth. She couldn't open the door a part of the way to
it and let it simply peep in; if it entered at all it must enter in full
procession and occupy the premises in state.

This was what had happened on an occasion which, as the less tormented
of our young men felt in his stall, grew larger with each throb of the
responsive house; till by the time the play was half over it appeared to
stretch out wide arms to the future. Nick had often heard more applause,
but had never heard more attention, since they were all charmed and
hushed together and success seemed to be sitting down with them. There
had been of course plenty of announcement--the newspapers had abounded
and the arts of the manager had taken the freest license; but it was
easy to feel a fine, universal consensus and to recognise everywhere
the light spring of hope. People snatched their eyes from the stage an
instant to look at each other, all eager to hand on the torch passed to
them by the actress over the footlights. It w