The Half-and-Half was one of those early Victorian halls of the people, with fixed stars and only a few meteors.  The popular favourites changed their songs and their clothes at periodic intervals, but they would have lost favour if they had not remained the same throughout everything.  A chairman with a hammer announced the turns, and condescendingly took champagne with anybody who paid for it.  Eileen soon became an indispensable part of this smoky world.  She signed an agreement at three guineas a week for three years, to perform only at the Half-and-Half.  Fossy saw far.  Eileen did not.  She jumped for joy when she got beyond eyeshot.  She felt herself jumping out of the governess-life.  Second thoughts and soberer footsteps brought doubt.  She had intended telling Mrs. Lee Carter as soon as the trial-performance was over, but now she hesitated and was lost.  Half the charm lay in the secret adventure, the dare-devilry.  Besides, as a governess she had a comfortable home and a respectable status, and she had already seen and divined enough of the world behind the footlights to shrink from being absorbed into it.  What fun in the double life!  She had never found a single life worth living.  She would belong to two worlds—­be literally Half-and-Half.  Nelly O’Neill must only be born at twilight.  But she felt she could not be out uniformly every evening without some explanation.

“Mrs. Lee Carter,” she said, “I have to tell you of a peculiar chance of augmenting my income that has come to me.”

Mrs. Lee Carter, wearing plumes and train for a court reception, paled.  “You are not going to leave me!”

The naive exclamation strengthened Eileen’s hand.

“I don’t quite see how to do otherwise,” she said boldly.

“Oh, dear, I wish I could afford more.  I know you’re worth it.”

Eileen thought, “If you’d only give your guests good claret instead of bad champagne!” But she said, “You are very kind—­you have always been most considerate.”

The plumes wagged.

“I try to please all parties.”

Nelly O’Neill thought, “And to give too many.”  Eileen said, “Yes, you’ve given me my evenings to myself as it is, and considering the new work is only in the evenings, I did think of running the two, but I’m afraid—­”

“If we lightened your work a little—­” interrupted Mrs. Lee Carter, eagerly.

“I shouldn’t so much ask that as to have perfect freedom like a young man—­a latch-key even.”  Never had Eileen looked more demure and Puritan.

“Oh, I hope you won’t be working too late—­”

“The people who go there are engaged in the daytime.  I’d better be frank with you; it’s an extremely unfashionable place towards the East End, and I quite understand you may not like me to take it.  At the same time I shall never meet anybody who knows me.  In fact, it’s a dancing and singing place.”

“Oh!” said Mrs. Lee Carter, blankly.  “I didn’t know you could teach dancing, too.”