CHAPTER VII.


Hester was excited and overwrought; she could not meet any of the
crowd, and took refuge in one of the deserted wings, until, as she
hoped, every one had dispersed. As she was quietly leaving the wings
she was met, much to her annoyance, by the manager. He was a coarse,
florid-faced person, but he took off his hat to Hester, as if she had
been the finest lady in the land.

"I thank you most heartily," he said. "You have saved me--you have
saved the house. Now, what shall I give you? A pound, two pounds? I'll
give them to you--yes, gladly; and I'll engage that you come here
every night at a fair salary. What's your address, my good girl, and
what's your name? You've got a voice to be proud of, and that I will
say."

"I told you I would not sing for money," said Hester, angrily. "Good-
night, sir. I'm glad I gave the children and the women a bit of
pleasure, but my voice ain't to be bought for no money. You ain't the
first as has wanted it, but it ain't for you. Good-night, sir. I'm
sorry as you think so little of the people what come here. They have
hard lives, and they want their bit of pleasure, and you shouldn't
take their money, what ain't easy to get, ef you have nothing to show
them for it. I sang for the people to-night, not for you. My voice and
me, we belong to the poor folk of Liverpool. Good-night, sir-you have
nought to thank me for."

She rushed out of the open door, not heeding the manager's outstretched
hand, nor the raised tones with which he sought still to detain her.