hen came confused answers from the spectators:--'Bolt, old
fellow!'--'Escape!'--'Fly!'--'Run!'--and the last word being taken
up and re-echoed, 'Run! run!'--he _did_ run; ran out and then ran
in and across the stage again; finally out of sight; and drop
the curtain. The burst of applause was tremendous.

'You'll have to go on, you know, if that keeps up,' said
Stuart behind the scenes; 'and I don't wonder. Here, Mr.
Brandevin, go in and stop them!'

The next scene was also very well done. The old French
gentleman was alone, and had it all to perform by himself. He
began with calling his daughter, in various discordant keys,
and with such a variety of impatient and exasperated
intonation, that the whole room was full of laughter. His
daughter not appearing nor answering, he next instituted a
make-believe search for her, feigning to go into the kitchen,
the buttery, her bedroom. Not finding her, and making a great
deal of amusement for the spectators by the way, he at last
comes back and asks in a deploring tone, 'Where is she?'

Cries of 'Off!'--'Gone!'--'Sloped!'--'Away!' were such a medley
that nobody professed to be able yet to make out the word. The
curtain fell again.

'You are very stupid,' said Mme. Lasalle. 'It is as plain as
possible.'

'It will be, when we see the rest,' said somebody. 'No, I
don't think it is, either.'

For as he spoke, the curtain rose upon an old clergyman, busy
with his books at a table with a lamp. He had a wig, and
looked very venerable indeed. Presently to him comes, after a
knock, his servant woman.

'Please, sir, here's a young couple wantin' to see ye. It's
the old story, I expect.'

'Let them come, Sarah--let them come in!' says the old
clergyman; 'the old story is the newest of all! Let them
come,--but first help me on with my gown. So!--now you may open
the door.'

Enter the old peasant's daughter and her lover. The latter
confers with the old clergyman, who wheezes and puffs and is
quite fussy; finally bids them stand before him in the proper
position. The proper position, of course, brings the two
people to face the audience, while the old clergyman's back
was a little turned to them, and no loss.

Now the dislike with which Miss Kennedy had received the
change of companions in this charade by no means lessened as
the play went on. The first scene had annoyed her, the minute
she had time to think it over during the solo of the second;
and now finding herself fac