Nan had placed Stuart in front of her on purpose to watch closely his expression.

As the moment for Harriet's appearance drew near, his nervous tension became a positive agony. Yet he distinctly felt from the subtle impression, which the intelligent single mind can always receive from the collective mind of a crowd, that the people were in a friendly mood of expectancy. The fact that she was an American girl and from New York was greatly in her favour.

The audience greeted her appearance with a burst of applause and waited for the first note of her opening song.

Stuart was charmed with the effect of her personality in the character, before she moved. The long, beautiful golden hair, the innocent young face and her simple girlish costume made an instantaneous impression in her favour.

With the first sweet note from her throat every fear vanished. She sang simply, quietly, exquisitely, without effort, as a bird sings because the song bubbles from within.

A ripple of surprised comment swept the audience and burst into vigorous applause at the close of her song.

She looked into Stuart's face and smiled sweetly.

"Isn't she glorious!" he cried, turning his flushed face toward Nan.

"Fine," was the quiet answer, "but please, Jim, don't climb over the rail and try to get on the stage."

Stuart settled back in his seat with a resolution to be more careful.

But in a few moments his resolution was forgotten. From start to finish Harriet received a continuous ovation. In the great songs of the last act her voice swelled into a climax of thrilling spiritual power. The audience rose in their seats and greeted her with such a tribute of enthusiasm New York had rarely seen. Wave after wave of applause swept the house. Her fellow-singers were compelled to lead her out a half-dozen times before the tumult ceased.

The manager, in ecstasies, fell on his knees, and kisses the tips of her fingers.

When Stuart had fought his way through the crowd and reached the stage, he found her alone with her father in her room. Her head was resting on his breast and he was stroking the fair young forehead with tender caressing touch. His eyes were dim with tears and his voice could find no words.

He turned away from the scene and left them alone for a few moments.

He found Nan and asked her to wait for him at the stage door in her automobile until he could give Harriet his congratulations.

She consented with a frown, and begged him to hurry.

He heard the muffled throb of the big limousine draw up at the stage door as he made his way to Harriet's room. Her father was still there and a crowd of musicians, singers, and critics were waiting in a group outside to offer their congratulations.

She was holding them back until his arrival.

When Stuart entered she dropped her father's hand, started toward him with her lips parted in a joyous smile and extended both hands.

Instead of taking them he slipped his arm about her slender waist, drew her quickly to his heart and kissed her. The girl's extended white arms by an instinctive impulse found their way around his neck, and her head sank on his breast.

"My glorious little pal!" he whispered, his voice choking with emotion.

"I'm the proudest man in the world to-night."

"It's all your work Jim," she said simply. "You suggested and willed it and I've made good under your inspiration. I'd rather see the happiness on your face and hear your words of approval than all the applause of that crowd."

"And you are perfectly happy?" he asked with enthusiasm.

"Certainly not!" she cried, emphatically. "No real woman ever does this for the thing itself. It's done only to please her hero that is, or is to be. I shall never be perfectly happy until I've a little nest of my own and the man I love is always by my side."

"He'll be a lucky man, little girl. And he must be a good one to get my consent. You can't marry without it you know."

"I shall not!" she answered with a laugh.

When Harriet drew herself quietly from Stuart's arms he turned and saw Nan standing in the doorway, with a curious smile on her flushed face.

"May I, too, offer my congratulations, Miss Woodman?" she asked. "I hope you have forgotten the lack of appreciation you met at the hands of my crowd of thoughtless banqueters in the ovation you have had this evening."

Harriet's little figure suddenly stiffened at the sight of Nan, but at the sound of her friendly voice, relaxed, and moved to meet the extended hand.

"Thank you, Mrs. Bivens," she replied cordially. "I couldn't hold a grudge against any one in that audience to-night."

And then Stuart did something that sent a shock through every fibre of Nan's being.

As easily and naturally as a big brother, he slipped one of his long arms around Harriet and looked down with frank admiration into her eyes.

"You see, Nan, she's mine. I raised her from a wee little mite. And this was such a cruel and dangerous experiment--she had no chance. It was impossible--but, God bless her, she did it!"

Nan apologized for hurrying away and Stuart was compelled to follow.

As he settled back among the soft cushions of the car by her side and the big machine glided swiftly up Broadway toward the Bivens palace, his enthusiasm burst out anew:

"Honestly, Nan, don't you think her a wonderful little girl? And just to think she's my kid----"

"Rather a remarkably developed kid, Jim!" was the laughing answer.

"She's splendid. The depth and range, power and sweetness of her voice are marvellous. Her fame will fill the world."

"Then you can't wonder that I'm proud of her."

"No," she answered, dreamily. She could afford to be generous. Warned in time and she had made up her mind instantly to act on a plan that had been vaguely forming and tempting her for the past months. It was her trump card; she had hesitated to play it, but she would do it now without delay.

CHAPTER VI

THROUGH PURPLE CURTAINS

When Nan made up her mind, she acted with lightning rapidity. She would force Stuart to an avowal of love that would fix their relation beyond disturbance by the little singer. She had too fine a sense of values to permit herself to become entangled in an intrigue.

She could wait, and gain in power for the waiting. Her physician had told her that Bivens's days were numbered. Stuart had waited twelve years in silence; he could wait the few months more of her husband's flickering life.

But on one thing she was determined. Now that another woman had appeared on the scene she would not live in suspense, she must know that he loved her still, loved her passionately, madly as she believed he did. But he must say it. She must hear his voice quiver with its old fiery intensity. She wished this as she had never longed for anything on earth, and for twelve years she had lived in a magic world where she had only to breathe a desire to have it fulfilled.

Stuart had baffled and eluded her on every point when she had thought he was about to betray his passion. Here was something mere money had no power to command. Well, she had other powers. She would use them to the limit. She would no longer risk the danger of delay.

She had no difficulty in persuading Bivens to urge Stuart to visit their country estate in the mountains of North Carolina. The doctor had ordered him there to live in the open air.

The young lawyer refused to go at first, but Bivens urged with such pathetic eagerness he was compelled to accept.

It was a warm beautiful morning the last week in March when he alighted on the platform of the little railroad station on the estate, and took his seat beside Nan in her big touring car. The fruit trees were in full bloom, and their perfume filled the air. The hum of bees and the song of birds he had known in his boyhood thrilled his heart. He drew a deep breath of joy, and without a struggle resigned himself to the charm of it all.