‘My naughty girl is not to poke her fun at orators,’ Nataly said.  ’No, dearest; it would agitate me to go.  I’m better here.  I shall be at peace when the night is over.’

‘But you will be all alone here, dear mother.’

Nataly’s eyes wandered to fall on Colney.  He proposed to give her his company.  She declined it.  Nesta ventured another entreaty, either that she might be allowed to stay or have her mother with her at the Meeting.

‘My love,’ Nataly said, ‘the thought of the Meeting—­’ She clasped at her breast; and she murmured:  ’I shall be comforted by your being with him.  There is no danger there.  But I shall be happy, I shall be at peace when this night is over.’

Colney persuaded her to have him for companion.  Mr. Peridon, who was to have driven with Nesta and mademoiselle, won admiration by proposing to stay for an hour and play some of Mrs. Radnor’s favourite pieces.  Nesta and Victor overbore Nataly’s objections to the lover’s generosity.  So Mr. Peridon was left.  Nesta came hurrying back from the step of the carriage to kiss her mother again, saying:  ’Just one last kiss, my own!  And she’s not to look troubled.  I shall remember everything to tell my own mother.  It will soon be over.’

Her mother nodded; but the embrace was passionate.

Nesta called her father into the passage, bidding him prohibit any delivery to her mother of news at the door.  ’She is easily startled now by trifles—­you have noticed?’

Victor summoned his recollections and assured her he had noticed, as he believed he had ’The dear heart of her is fretting for the night to be over!  And think! seven days, and she is in Lakelands.  A fortnight, and we have our first Concert.  Durandarte!  Oh, the dear heart ’ll be at peace when I tell her of a triumphant Meeting.  Not a doubt of that, even though Colney turns the shadow of his back on us.’

‘One critic the less for you!’ said Nesta.  Skepsey was to meet her carriage at the theatre.

Ten minutes later, Victor and Simeon Fenellan were proceeding thitherward on foot.

‘I have my speech,’ said Victor.  ’You prepare the way for me, following our influential friend Dubbleson; Colewort winds up; any one else they shout for.  We shall have a great evening.  I suspect I shall find Themison or Jarniman when I get home.  You don’t believe in intimations?  I’ve had crapy processions all day before my eyes.  No wonder, after yesterday!’

‘Dubbleson mustn’t drawl it out too long,’ said Fenellan.

’We ‘ll drop a hint.  Where’s Dartrey?’

’He’ll come.  He’s in one of his black moods:  not temper.  He’s got a notion he killed his wife by dragging her to Africa with him.  She was not only ready to go, she was glad to go.  She had a bit of the heroine in her and a certainty of tripping to the deuce if she was left to herself.’