But long before that Leonora was rich.  Uncle Meshach had died and left her the Myatt fortune for life, with remainder to the three girls absolutely in equal shares.  Fred was the executor and trustee, and Fred’s own share of the bounty was a total remission of Meshach’s loan to him.  Thus it is that providence watches over the wealthy, the luxurious, and the well-connected, and over the lilies of the field who toil not.

Aroused from lethargy by the dramatic circumstances of her father’s death, Rose had resumed her reading with a vigour that amounted almost to fury.  In the following January she miraculously passed the Matriculation examination of London University in the first division, and on returning home she informed Leonora that she had decided to go back to London and study medicine at a hospital for women.

But of the three girls, it was Millicent who had made the most history.  Millicent was rapidly developing the natural gift, so precious to the theatrical artist, of existing picturesquely in the eye of the public.  When the rehearsals of Princess Ida began for the annual performance of the Operatic Society Milly confidently expected to receive the principal part, despite the fact that Lucy Turner, who had the prescriptive right to it, was once more in a position to sing; and Milly was not disappointed.  As a heroine of comic opera she now accounted herself an extremely serious person, and it soon became apparent that the conductor and his prima donna would have to decide between them who was to control the rehearsals while Milly was on the stage.  One evening a difference of opinion as to the tempo of a song and chorus reached the condition of being acute.  Exasperated by the pretty and wayward child, the conductor laid down his stick and lighted a cigarette, and those who knew him knew that the rehearsal would not proceed until the duel had been fought to a finish.  Milly thought hard and said:  ’Mr. Corfe says the Hanbridge people would jump at me!’ ‘My good girl,’ the conductor replied, ’Mr. Corfe’s views on the acrobatic propensities of the Hanbridge people are just a shade off the point.’  Every one laughed, except Milly.  She possessed little appreciation of wit, and she had scarcely understood the remark; but she had an objection to the laughter, and a very strong objection to being the conductor’s good girl.  The instant result was that she vowed never again to sing or act under his baton, and took the entire Society to witness; her place was filled by Lucy Turner.  The Hanbridge Society happened to be doing Patience that year, and they justified Mr. Corfe’s prediction.  Moreover, they hired the Hanbridge Theatre Royal for six nights.  On the first night Milly was enthusiastically applauded by two thousand people, and in addition to half a column of praise in the ‘Signal,’ she had the happiness of being mentioned in the district news of the ’Manchester Guardian’ and the ‘Birmingham Daily Post.’  She deemed it magnificent for