The two young men walked slowly up the street in the direction of the Bon-Bon Theatre, passing into Swanston Street just as the Town Hall clock struck eleven. It was a beautiful moonlight night, but no breeze was blowing, and the heat which the earth had drawn to her bosom during the day was now exhaled from the warm ground in a faint humid vapour. Crowds of people were in the streets sauntering idly along, evidently unwilling to go to bed. The great buildings stood up white and spectral-like on the one side of the street, while on the other they loomed out black against the clear sky. The garish flare of the innumerable street lamps seemed out of place under the serene splendour of the heavens, and the frequent cries of the street boys, and noisy rattling of passing cabs, jarred on the ear. At least Keith thought so, for, after walking in silence for some time, he turned with a gesture of irritation to his companion.

"Isn't this noise disagreeable?" he said impatiently; "under such a perfect sky the city ought to lie dead like a fantastic dream of the Arabian Nights, but the gas lamps and incessant restlessness of Melbourne vulgarises the whole thing."

"Poetical, certainly," replied Ezra, rousing himself from his abstraction; "but I should not care to inhabit an enchanted city. To me there is something grand in this restless crowd of people, all instinct with life and ambition--the gas lamps jar on your dream, but they are evidences of civilisation, and the hoarse murmur of the mob is like the mutterings of a distant storm, or white waves breaking on a lonely coast. No, my friend, leave the enchanted cities to dreamland, and live the busy life of the nineteenth century."

"Your ideas and wishes are singularly at variance," said Keith smiling. "The city suggests poetical thoughts to you, but you reject them and lower yourself to the narrow things of everyday."

"I am a man, and must live as one," replied the Jew, with a sigh; "it's hard enough to do so--Heaven knows!--without creating Paradises at whose doors we must ever stand like lost Peris."

"What's the matter with you to-night?" asked Keith abruptly.

"Nothing particular; only I've had a quarrel with my father."

"Is that all? My dear Lazarus, your father lives in an atmosphere of quarrelling--it's bread and meat to him--so you needn't fret over a few words. What was the quarrel about?"

"Money."

"Humph!--generally a fruitful cause of dissension. Tell me all about it."

"You know how I love Rachel?" said Lazarus quietly. "Well, I am anxious to marry her and have a home of my own. It's weary work living in tents like a Bedouin. I get a good salary, it's true; but I asked my father to give me a sufficient sum of ready money to buy a piece of land and a house. I might have saved myself the trouble--he refused, and we had angry words, so parted in anger."

"I wouldn't bother about it, if I were you," said Keith consolingly. "Words break no bones--besides, this burlesque may bring us a lot of money, and then you can marry Rachel when you please."

"I don't expect much money out of it," replied the Jew, with a frown. "It's our first piece, and Mortimer will drive a hard bargain with us--but you seem very hopeful to-night."

"I have cause to. Eugénie has written me a letter, in which she says she is coming to Melbourne."

"That's good news, indeed. Is she going to stay?"

"I think so," said Keith gaily. "I told you she was a governess, so she has replied to an advertisement in the Argus. and hopes to get the situation."

"I trust she will," observed Ezra, smiling at Keith's delight. "She will do you a lot of good by her presence, and guard you from the spells of Armida."

"Alias Caprice. Thanks for the warning, but I've not been ensnared by the fair enchantress yet, and never mean to; but here we are at the theatre. I hope we get good terms from Mortimer."

"So do I, for Rachel's sake."

"We are both preux chevaliers. anxious to gain for our lady-loves not fame, but money. Oh, base desire!"

"It may be base, but it's very necessary," replied the prudent Jew, and they both entered the stage-door of the theatre.

Mortimer's sanctum was a very well-furnished room, displaying considerable taste on the part of the occupant, for the manager of the "Bon-Bon" was sybaritic in his ideas. The floor was covered with a heavy velvet carpet, and the walls adorned with excellent pictures, while the furniture was all chosen for comfort as well as for ornament. Mortimer was seated at his desk with a confused mass of papers before him, and leaning back in a chair near him was Caprice, who looked rather pale and worn.

There was a lamp on the table with a heavy shade, which concentrated all the light into a circle, and Kitty's pale face, with its aureole of fair hair seen in the powerful radiance, appeared strange and unreal. Dark circles under her heavy eyes, faint lines round the small mouth, and the weary look now habitual to her, all combined to give her face a wan and spiritual look which made even Mortimer shiver as he looked at her.

"Hang it, Kitty," he said roughly, "don't look so dismal. You ought to see a doctor."

"What for?" she asked listlessly. "I'm quite well."

"Humph! I don't think so. You've been going down the hill steadily the last few months. Look how thin you are--a bag of bones."

"So was Rachel," replied Caprice, with a faint smile.

"Well, she didn't live very long. Besides, you ain't Rachel," growled Mortimer, "and I don't want you to get ill just now."

"No, you could hardly supply my place," said Caprice, with a sneer. "Don't you bother yourself, Mortimer, I'm not going to die yet. When I do I sha'n't be sorry; life hasn't been so pleasant to me that I should wish to live."

"I don't know what you want," grumbled the manager; "you've got all Melbourne at your feet."

"I can't say much for Melbourne's morality, then," retorted Caprice bitterly; "circumstances have made me what I am, but I'm getting tired of the cakes and ale business. If I could only secure the future of my child, I'd turn religious."

"Mary Magdalen!"

"Yes, a case of history repeating itself, isn't it?" she replied, with a harsh laugh.

"Strange!" said Mortimer, scrutinising her narrowly; "the worse a woman is in her youth, the more devout she becomes in her old age."

"On the authority of M. de la Rochefoucauld, I suppose," answered Caprice; "old age gives good advice when it no longer can give bad example."

"Who told you that?"

"A man you never knew--Vandeloup."

"I don't know that my not being acquainted with him was much to be regretted."

"No, I don't think it was," replied Caprice coolly; "he had twice your brains--to know him was a liberal education."

"In cheap cynicism, gad, you've been an apt pupil."

Kitty laughed, and, rising from her seat, began to walk to and fro.

"I wish those boys would come," she said restlessly; "I want to go home."

"Then go," said Mortimer; "you needn't stay."

"Oh, yes, I need," she replied; "I want to see that they get good terms for their play."

"I'll give them a fair price," said Mortimer; "but I'm not going to be so liberal as you expect."

"I've no doubt of that."

"I believe you're sweet on that Stewart."

"Perhaps I am!"

"Meddlechip won't like that,"

"Pish! I don't care two straws for Meddlechip."

"No; but you do for his money."

"Of course; that goes without saying."

"You're a hardened little devil, Caprice."

"God knows I've had enough to make me hard," she replied bitterly, throwing herself down in her chair, with a frown.

There was a knock at the door at this moment, and, in reply to Mortimer's invitation to "come in," Ezra and Keith appeared.

"Well, you two are late," said Mortimer, glancing at his watch; "a quarter-past eleven."

"I'm very sorry," said Ezra quietly; "but it was my fault. I was telling Stewart about some business."

"Well, we won't take long to settle this affair," remarked Mortimer, looking over his papers. "Be seated, gentlemen."

Keith took off his overcoat and threw it over the back of a chair, on which Kitty's fur-lined mantle was already resting.

Caprice, who had flushed up on the advance of Stewart, leaned back in her chair, while Keith sat down near her, and Ezra took a position opposite, close to Mortimer.

"Now then, gentlemen," said Mortimer, playing with a paper-cu............