and flew to Barnard's Green. It wanted nearly an hour to the time of
performance; but the tuning of a violin was audible from within, and the
money-taker was already there with his pipe in his mouth and his hands
in his pockets. I had no courage to address that functionary; but I
lingered in his sight and sighed audibly, and wandered round and round
the canvas walls that hedged my divinity. Presently he took his pipe out
of, his mouth and his hands out of his pockets; surveyed me deliberately
from head to foot, and said:--

"Hollo there! aint you the party that brought a three-cornered letter
here last evening!"

I owned it, falteringly.

He lifted a fold in the canvas, and gave me a gentle shove between the
shoulders.

"Then you're to go in," said he, shortly. "She's there, somewhere.
You're sure to find her."

The canvas dropped behind me, and I found myself inside. My heart beat
so fast that I could scarcely breathe. The booth was almost dark; the
curtain was down; and a gentleman with striped legs was lighting the
footlamps. On the front pit bench next the orchestra, discussing a plate
of bread and meat and the contents of a brown jug, sat a stout man in
shirt-sleeves and a woman in a cotton gown. The woman rose as I made my
appearance, and asked, civilly enough, whom I pleased to want.

I stammered the name of Miss Angelina Lascelles.