now, having settled the
lady, tell me why and when you began to hate the stage so. I think it is
a glorious life. Just put me where you stand, without a sovereign to
help myself with, and I'd give up the ladyship to you in a minute."

"But that is because you own your life."

"Own my life? Of course I do. That is just what every soul must own."

"Not if--if she cares for some one more than her life."

"Oh-e! oh-e! That is the secret! And he don't like it? The heathen! I
wish he had seen you just now!"

"He did. He was standing in the box close by you. I saw his face, for
the first time in months. He was leaning forward; his eyes met mine.
They were full of reproach--contempt, perhaps. I could not tell, for the
house swam round, the lights seemed leaping toward me. Then I felt as if
the noise were putting them out, for everything grew dark."

"And you fainted dead away, poor dear! I know how to pity you. Not that
I have had trouble yet; but it is sure to come, and then, of course, you
will be sorry for me."

"I shall, indeed."

"Just as I am sorry for you now. But who is the man?"

"I hardly think I know. He gave me an Italian name, but I feel sure it
was not his."

"That accounts for his antipathy to the stage. If he had really been an
Italian, your singing would have entranced him. It was heavenly; but an
Englishman--. Well, well, we must see!"

That moment the door swung open, and Olympia came in, radiant with
jewels and fierce with anger. She saw Lady Clara, and stopped upon the
threshold in haughty astonishment. Caroline shrank from the stormy
expression of her face, but faltered out:

"Madame, it is Lady Clara, the daughter of Lord Hope."

Instantly the frown lost itself in a bland smile. Olympia was equal to
her part at all times. She did not often see a lady of rank in her
dressing-room, and the honor drove away the indignant wrath intended for
Caroline.

"Ah!" she said, "this poor child--it was so unfortunate! But she will
recover. In a day or two she will get back her courage. What a voice she
has, my lady! Did you hear? So fresh, so powerful, up to the very time
when she broke down. What could have occasioned it?"

"It is indeed a misfortune," said Clara, with some dignity; "because I
am sure she will never do for the stage. Her voice is superb, but so
uncertain! When we compare it with yours, madame, it is to regret that
she ever ventured so far."

Olympia seated herself. She had a few mom