Helene, come and dress Miss Monroe; put on her slippers while I lace her gown; run and fetch more jewels,--more still,--she can carry off any number; not any rouge, Helene--she has too much colour now; pull the frock more off the shoulders--it's a pity to cover an inch of them; pile her hair higher--here, take my diamond tiara, child; hurry, Helene, fetch the silver cup and the cake--no, they are on the stage; take her train, Helene.

Miss Hamilton, run and open the doors ahead of them, please.

I won't go down for this tableau.

I'll put Miss Dalziel right, and then I'll slip into the drawing-room, to be ready for the guests when they come in." We hurried breathlessly through an interminable series of rooms and corridors.

I gave the signal to Mr.Beresford, who was nervously waiting for it in the wings, and the curtain went up on Hynde Horn disguised as the auld beggar man at the king's gate.