of the stage, and smiled on the spectacle of his beneficent work.
But because the happy appearance of Teddy Roosevelt had made le beau temps for the members of Mrs. Emsworth's company, it did not at all follow that Bilton, when he came to lunch, would find the same sunshine awaiting him, even as there is no guarantee that, because at twelve o'clock on an April day pellucid tranquillity flooded the earth, there will not be a smart hail-storm an hour afterwards. On the contrary, it was safe to bet that, whatever mood Mrs. Emsworth was in, she would be in a different one before long. The spring-day temperament of hers was, in fact, the only thing to be reckoned on. Consequently, since Bilton had not witnessed the varied phases exhibited at the theatre, he hoped, somehow sanguinely, that she would not be in a temper that so roundly labelled him ' beast ' at Port Washington Station.
She seemed to have forgotten he was coming to lunch—as a matter of fact, she had, and welcomed him charmingly.
' Dear man,' she said, ' how nice of you to look in. I'm nearly dead with fatigue; let's have lunch at once. Harold, I've acted every part in ' Telegrams ' through from beginning to end this morning. Those people are so hardworking, but they are so stupid. In fact, I know every part but my own. That I have promised them to be word perfect in by five o'clock this afternoon.'
' You don't rehearse again this afternoon?' asked he.
' Oh yes, I do. Three hours more this afternoon, then just time for dinner, then theatre again till half-past eleven, then supper at the Waldorf. To-morrow, rehearsal all morning, matinée, evening performance, every interval filled up with reporters and milliners and limelight people. Oh, well, thank God, we shall all soon be dead. Time to rest then, and time to lunch now.'
' Don't overdo it, Dolly,' said he, as they sat down.
