“It’s a sacred concert,” he said, “so that you need have no scruples, Ida.  It’s a regular swell affair, and I tell you I had great difficulty in getting hold of the tickets.  It’s a charity concert got up by the big nobs of the Stock Exchange, and there’ll be no end of swells there.  I got the tickets because the guv’nor’s going into the country to preach to-night, and while the cat’s away we can slip out and enjoy ourselves; not that he’d object to a sacred concert, I suppose, especially if he were allowed to hold forth during the intervals,” he added, with a sneer.

“It is very kind of you to ask me,” said Ida; “but I think I would rather stay at home.”

“I thought you were fond of music,” Joseph remarked, beginning to look sullen.  “We shall go quite quietly, and no one need know anything about it, for I got tickets for the upper circle and not the stalls on purpose; and they’re in a back row.  I thought you’d enjoy this concert, and if you don’t go I shall tear up the tickets.”

“Oh, do let us go, Ida!” pleaded Isabel.  “A sacred concert isn’t as good as a theatre, but it will be a break in the monotony; besides, Joseph must have had a lot of trouble to get the tickets, for I read in the paper that there was a regular rush for them.  Don’t be selfish, Ida, and spoil our enjoyment.”

“I wish you would go without me,” said Ida, with a sigh; but ultimately she yielded.

Mrs. Heron, of course, knew that they were going, but she was not told in so many words, that she might deny all knowledge of it if the outing came to Mr. Heron’s ears; and she watched them with a peevish and suspicious expression on her face as they started for the train.  They went up second-class, and Mr. Joseph, who was in the best of humours, and wore a new pair of patent-leather boots and a glossy hat, to say nothing of a dazzling tie, enlivened the journey by whispering facetious remarks on their fellow-passengers to Ida, who in vain leant away from him, as far as possible, in her corner of the carriage, and endeavoured to concentrate her attention on the programme.  But though her eyes were fixed on it and she could not entirely shut out Joseph’s ill-bred jokes, her thoughts were wandering back to a certain afternoon when she had sat beside the Heron stream and listened to Stafford planning out their future.  He had been telling her something of the great world of which she knew nothing, but into which he was going to take her, hand in hand, as it were; he was going to take her to the theatres and the concerts and the dances of which she had read and heard, but of which she knew nothing by experience.  Now, she was going to her first concert with Mr. Joseph Heron.

There was a larger crowd than usual outside Queen’s Hall that evening, for the concert was really an important one for which some of the greatest singers had been engaged.  In addition to Patti, Santley, Edward Lloyd, and other famous professionals, some distinguished amateurs were to perform, and royalty, as represented by the ever-popular and amiable prince, had promised to patronise the affair.