waiting-maid, and “Falkland,” Julia’s jealous lover.  Gentlemen came; saw Julia at rehearsal; observed her stoutness and her wig; omitted to notice that her heart was in the right place; quailed at the prospect, apologized, and retired.  Ladies read the part of “Lucy”; remarked that she appeared to great advantage in the first half of the play, and faded out of it altogether in the latter half; objected to pass from the notice of the audience in that manner, when all the rest had a chance of distinguishing themselves to the end; shut up the book, apologized, and retired.  In eight days more the night of performance would arrive; a phalanx of social martyrs two hundred strong had been convened to witness it; three full rehearsals were absolutely necessary; and two characters in the play were not filled yet.  With this lamentable story, and with the humblest apologies for presuming on a slight acquaintance, the Marrables appeared at Combe-Raven, to appeal to the young ladies for a “Lucy,” and to the universe for a “Falkland,” with the mendicant pertinacity of a family in despair.

This statement of circumstances—­addressed to an audience which included a father of Mr. Vanstone’s disposition, and a daughter of Magdalen’s temperament—­produced the result which might have been anticipated from the first.

Either misinterpreting, or disregarding, the ominous silence preserved by his wife and Miss Garth, Mr. Vanstone not only gave Magdalen permission to assist the forlorn dramatic company, but accepted an invitation to witness the performance for Norah and himself.  Mrs. Vanstone declined accompanying them on account of her health; and Miss Garth only engaged to make one among the audience conditionally on not being wanted at home.  The “parts” of “Lucy” and “Falkland” (which the distressed family carried about with them everywhere, like incidental maladies) were handed to their representatives on the spot.  Frank’s faint remonstrances were rejected without a hearing; the days and hours of rehearsal were carefully noted down on the covers of the parts; and the Marrables took their leave, with a perfect explosion of thanks—­father, mother, and daughter sowing their expressions of gratitude broadcast, from the drawing-room door to the garden-gates.

As soon as the carriage had driven away, Magdalen presented herself to the general observation under an entirely new aspect.

“If any more visitors call to-day,” she said, with the profoundest gravity of look and manner, “I am not at home.  This is a far more serious matter than any of you suppose.  Go somewhere by yourself, Frank, and read over your part, and don’t let your attention wander if you can possibly help it.  I shall not be accessible before the evening.  If you will come here—­with papa’s permission—­after tea, my views on the subject of Falkland will be at your disposal.  Thomas! whatever else the gardener does, he is not to make any floricultural noises under my window.  For the rest of the afternoon I shall be immersed in study—­and the quieter the house is, the more obliged I shall feel to everybody.”