her; Leonora tried to think so too.  But on the fourth day the Hanbridge conductor was in bed with influenza; and the Bursley conductor, upon a flattering request, undertook his work for the remaining nights.  Milly broke her vow; her practical common sense was really wonderful.  On the last and most glorious night of the six, after responding to several frenzied calls, Milly was inspired to seize the conductor in the wings and drag him with her before the curtain.  The effect was tremendous.  The conductor had won, but he very willingly admitted that, in losing, the adorable chit had triumphed over him.  The episode was gossip for many days.

And this was by no means the end of the matter.  The agent-in-advance of one of the touring musical-comedy companies of Lionel Belmont, the famous Anglo-American manager, was in Hanbridge during that week, and after seeing Milly in the piece he telegraphed to Liverpool, where his company was, and the next day the manager visited Hanbridge incognito.  Then Harry Burgess began to play a part in Millicent’s history.  Harry had abandoned his stool at the Bank, expressing his intention to undertake some large commercial enterprise; he had persuaded his mother to find the capital.  The leisurely search for a large commercial enterprise precisely suited to Harry’s tastes necessitated frequent sojourns in London.  Harry became a man-about-town and a member of the renowned New Fantastics Club.  The New Fantastics were powerful supporters of the dramatic art, and the roll of the club included numerous theatrical stars of magnitudes varying from the first to the tenth.  It was during one of the club’s official excursions—­in pantechnicon vans—­to a suburban theatre where a good French actress was performing, that Harry made the acquaintance of that important man, Louis Lewis, Belmont’s head representative in Europe.  Louis Lewis, over champagne, asked Harry if he knew a Millicent Stanway of Bursley.  The effect of the conversation was that Harry came home and astounded Milly by telling her what Louis Lewis had authorised him to say.  There were conferences between Leonora and Milly and Mr. Cecil Corfe, a journey to Manchester, hesitations, excitations, thrills, and in the end an arrangement.  Millicent was to go to London to be finally appraised, and probably to sign a contract for a sixteen-weeks provincial tour at three pounds a week.

* * * * *

Leonora’s prevailing mood was the serenity of high resolve and of resignation.  She had renounced the chance of ecstasy.  She was sad, but she was not unhappy.  The melancholy which filled the secret places of her soul was sweet and radiant, and she had proved the ancient truth that he who gives up all, finds all.  Still in rich possession of beauty and health, she nevertheless looked forward to nothing but old age—­an old age of solitude and sufferance.  Hannah and Meshach were gone; John was gone; and she alone seemed to be left of the elder