Edward Fraser was not the man to let grass grow under his feet. He set about the production with the utmost vigilance and despatch. The first thing he did was to call on O'Donnell. He was introduced to Mrs. O'Donnell. He found her simply divine, he said, the greatest beauty in London, by gad. And, as to the boy (he himself was childless) he afterwards declared to his wife, that it was the handsomest, the most engaging, the most endearing little fellow in Europe. As soon as he was free to talk about business he said: "O'Donnell, I have firmly made up my mind to produce 'The Maid of Athens' with the least possible delay. Before I had seen you I had, of course, arranged with Lavirotte. Will you understudy Lavirotte's part at six guineas a week? Of course, if there is a chance of your singing it, you shall go on, and I could not think of putting you second. But you know what our climate is like, and that a fellow may get a cold any minute." "You know," said Eugene, colouring with pleasure, "I want an engagement, and I am not in a position to refuse one if I could possibly take it. But Dominique and I have been such great friends all our lives, I could not think of taking any position which might seem to undermine his." "But, you see, that is the very thing I offer you--a position which will not seem to undermine his. So long as he is singing, of course you will not sing. But if he gets a cold, or anything of that kind, you take his place and keep it warm for him until he is quite well again. What can be more friendly than that?" "Men are always jealous of those who understudy them, for they think that the understudies are always wishing for some accident to the men who are singing the parts. Have you spoken of the matter to Dominique?" "Oh, yes! I have arranged it all with him. He agrees to what I suggest. I am sorry I cannot offer you as good terms as he is getting; but we could not afford more than six to one in such a position as yours. Lavirotte's agreement is all drawn up and signed on the understanding that if I can secure you I will do so." After some more talk, Eugene agreed to accept Fraser's offer, and the composer went home greatly delighted with the day's work and the new acquaintance he had made. "Harriet," he said when he got home, "I have fallen in love with Mrs. O'Donnell, and you must fall in love with her too. She is simply perfect. You must worship the boy. I know, if you saw him, you would never let him out of your arms." Mrs. Fraser simply shook her head, and sighed to think she had no boy of her own. The preparations for the production of the new opera were hastened, the Oberon Theatre secured, the rest of the company engaged, and the opera put in rehearsal. Everyone who was privileged to hear the music agreed that the opera ought to be a great success, and most of the people thought that Lavirotte would make a hit in his part. Fraser was to conduct the opera himself, and he took the minutest care that nothing should be left undone to court success. About a month before the day fixed for the first appearance, O'Donnell came to Fraser's private room at the theatre, and said: "I want to ask you a question about my own business." "Fire away, my dear fellow!" cried the hearty composer. "Anything you like." "I am, as you know, Fraser, at present in lodgings with my wife and child. We were thinking of taking a small house, and what I want you to tell me is, do you think I would be justified in doing so? Do you think my engagement with you will be worth anything like six pounds a week for a considerable portion of the year?" "My dear O'Donnell, I'm very glad you spoke to me upon the subject. Take a small house, by all means; get what furniture is just necessary. I'll be guarantee for it. And, I'll tell you what I'm game to do this minute: I'll undertake, if you like, in writing, that you shall not average less than six pounds a week for the next twelve months, Under existing circumstances, I cannot, at present, offer you more money than is in your agreement, but you can have the engagement, if you like, about the twelve months." O'Donnell was delighted. "You really don't say so, my dear Fraser!" "I do," he said. "You need not speak of this matter to anyone. I mean to stick to you. You are sure to make a mark. You are sure to make money. And, look here, I say, you know it isn't my money that's going into this speculation, and I have a little money of my own. Never be hard up for a fiver. We like your wife, your boy, and yourself; and by gad, sir, we mean that you shall be a success." O'Donnell went home in the highest spirits. That very day he and his wife set out house-hunting, and within a week they were settled in a little semi-detached house in Cecil Street, Hoxton. Among the furniture there was, of course, a piano, and O'Donnell felt unexpectedly relieved to be able, as he expressed it, to shout and hammer the keys against the detached wall of his own house, where there was no fear of disturbing lodgers or neighbours. Here, with his wife and child, and the old and faithful nurse who had looked after him when he was a child, he felt as though life was opening afresh to him, and as if there was more sunshine in the air than ever he had noticed before. "The first thing we have to do, Nellie, is to get the Frasers and Dominique here to dinner, on the earliest day possible. Of course I should never have known Fraser but for Dominique; and, indeed, half my good luck at the Oberon, or more than half, is due to Lavirotte." So it was arranged that on the first Saturday after the O'Donnells were settled in their home, the Frasers and Lavirotte should dine with them. The dinner passed off in the pleasantest manner. Mark dined at the table, and Lavirotte insisted on attending to the boy and giving him all the delicacies he could filch, to the great jealousy of Mrs. Fraser, who had taken an extraordinary liking to the mother and child. Lavirotte seemed in better spirits and health than of late. He was quite cheerful, quite amusing. He made pretty compliments to the women, said good-humoured, whimsical, blunt things to the men, and when dinner was over and the men were alone, he threw himself into a chair and declared he had not enjoyed any little dinner so much, for a century. "You know, Eugene, I was best man at your marriage, and godfather to your boy, and I really think I have forgotten my duty towards him. I never gave him a knife and fork, or even a mug. It was beastly neglectful of me. I feel in the best of spirits to-day. Wasn't I in good voice at the rehearsal?" "Capital!" said both men. "Nothing could have been better." "You'll bring down the house, Lavirotte," cried Eugene. "I shall do my very best," said Lavirotte. "I think my health has greatly improved within the past fortnight or so. I have not felt that old sensation of faintness, and going up and down the stairs to my eyrie does not distress me as it used. By Jove, Eugene, I feel as well as before that terrible time in the tower. No, I won't have any more. I'll go and look after my boy." Lavirotte left the room. Fraser shifted uneasily in his chair. "Are you perfect in the part?" he said to Eugene. "I think so," said the latter. "Because," said Fraser, "although Lavirotte seems in better health than he was some time ago, no one knows what may happen." Lavirotte did not go straight to the small drawing-room where the two women were seated. He went out to the little kitchen, and said to old Bridget, the servant: "Is the boy in bed?" "Yes, he is, sir, and asleep," said the old woman. "Let me go up and look at him before I join the ladies." "Certainly, sir. I'll show you the room." She led the way upstairs. The boy was sleeping in a cot, his rosy cheek resting on his pink arm, his yellow hair hanging all about his head. There was another bed in the room. "That is yours, no doubt," said Lavirotte, pointing to the second bed. "Yes," she said, "I sleep here to mind him in the night; but he's no trouble." "And this window looks into what?" "The side passage." The old woman had turned up the paraffin lamp, and was holding it over the sleeping child. "You have no gas in the house?" "No; the master does not like gas." "You ought to be very careful with that lamp. Many a sad thing happens owing to the use of paraffin lamps, where children are." He stooped over the sleeping child, kissed the boy's cheek, and then descended to the little drawing-room where the two wives sat.