“A little bird,” she made answer, with much complacence.  “And the idea that you should really want to do such a thing!—­how many voices like yours are there wandering about in comedy-opera that you should consider you have any right to run such a risk?  I don’t mean being killed—­I mean catching a cold!  I suppose you have got to take your coat and waistcoat off—­on Calais sands—­with a wind blowing in from the sea; that is a nice thing for your chest and throat, isn’t it?  Well, I’m going to step in and prevent it.  I consider you have treated me very badly—­pretending you didn’t see me, when you were so very particularly engaged; but never mind; I never bear malice; and, as I say, I’m going to step in and prevent this piece of folly.”

“Very much obliged, I am sure,” he said, politely.  “When men propose to fight, it is so extremely pleasant to find a woman appear to throw a protecting arm over them!”

“Oh, I am not going to be repelled by any of your ferocious sentiments,” said she, good-naturedly.  “I am a friend of both of you—­I hope; and I won’t have anything of the kind—­I tell you I won’t allow it—­”

“I’m afraid your intervention has come too late,” said he, quietly.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Oh, it isn’t worth speaking about,” said he.  “The young gentleman went a little too far—­he has got to be taught a lesson, that is all—­”

“Oh, listen to him!—­listen to his bloodthirstiness!” she exclaimed, in affected horror; and then she suddenly altered her tone.  “Come, now, Mr. Moore, you’re not seriously going to try to harm that poor boy!  He is a very nice boy, as honest and simple-minded as you could wish.  And such a pretty boy, too—­no, no, it is quite absurd—­”

“You are right there,” said he.  “It is quite absurd.  The whole thing is absurd.  But it has gone too far.”

Here Miss Burgoyne was called.

“Will you leave it in my hands?” she said, leisurely rising from her chair, and tucking up her long train so that she might safely pass into the wings.

“Certainly not,” said he.  “You have no right to know anything about it.  The quarrel was forced upon me; I had no wish to harm your pretty boy, nor have I much now—­except in trying to keep myself from being harmed.  But that is all over now; and this thing has to be seen through to the end now.”

He held open the door for her; and then he accompanied her along the passage and up the steps, until they were both ready for their entrance on the stage.

“Men are so obstinate,” said she, with an air of vexation; “so obstinate and foolish.  But I don’t care; I’ll see if I can’t get something done; I won’t allow two dear friends of mine to do anything so stupid if I can help it.  Why, the idea!—­getting into a quarrel with a harmless young fellow like that!  You ought to have been kind to him for my sake—­for he really is such a dear boy—­so simple and good-natured—­”