in the States!  Fifteen hundred pesos a night and a special train de luxe in Argentina and Brazil!  I could see the loungers and the drivers talking and pointing as usual.  The gilded loungers in Verrey’s cafe got up and watched us through the windows as we passed.  This was fame.  For nearly twenty years I had been intimate with fame, and with the envy of women and the foolish homage of men.

We saw dozens of omnibuses bearing the legend ‘Qita.’  Then we met one which said:  ‘Empire Theatre.  Valdes, the matchless juggler,’ and Sally smiled with pleasure.

‘He’s coming to see our turn to-night, after his,’ she remarked, blushing.

‘Valdes?  Why?’ I asked, without turning my head.

‘He wants us to sup with him, to celebrate our engagement.’

‘When do you mean to get married?’ I asked her shortly.  I felt quite calm.

‘I guess you’re a Tartar to-day,’ said the pretty thing, with a touch of her American sauciness.  ’We haven’t studied it out yet.  It was only yesterday afternoon he kissed me for the first time.’  Then she bent towards me with her characteristic plaintive, wistful appeal.  ’Say!  You aren’t vexed, Selina, are you, because of this?  Of course, he wants me to tour with him after we’re married, and do a double act.  He’s got lots of dandy ideas for a double act.  But I won’t, I won’t, Selina, unless you say the word.  Now, don’t you go and be cross, Selina.’

I let myself expand generously.

‘My darling girl!’ I said, glancing at her kindly.  ’You ought to know me better.  Of course I’m not cross.  And of course you must tour with Valdes.  I shall be all right.  How do you suppose I managed before I invented you?’ I smiled like an indulgent mother.

‘Oh!  I didn’t mean that,’ she said.  ’I know you’re frightfully clever.  I’m nothing——­’

‘I hope you’ll be awfully happy,’ I whispered, squeezing her hand.  ’And don’t forget that I introduced him to you—­I knew him years before you did.  I’m the cause of this bliss——­Do you remember that cold morning in Berlin?’

‘Oh! well, I should say!’ she exclaimed in ecstasy.

When we reached our rooms in the hotel I kissed her warmly.  Women do that sort of thing.

Then a card was brought to me.  ‘George Capey,’ it said; and in pencil, ‘Of the Five Towns.’

I shrugged my shoulders.  Sally had gone to scribble a note to her Valdes.  ‘Show Mr. Capey in,’ I said, and a natty young man entered, half nervousness, half audacity.

‘How did you know I come from the Five Towns?’ I questioned him.

‘I am on the Evening Mail,’ he said, ’where they know everything, madam.’

I was annoyed.  ’Then they know, on the Evening Mail that Paquita Qita has never been interviewed, and never will be,’ I said.

‘Besides,’ he went on, ‘I come from the Five Towns myself.’

‘Bursley?’ I asked mechanically.