fellow."

"You're afraid of her," continued his friend. "Oh, yes, you may think it
an impertinence if you like, but I know you are. You'd face a cannon's
mouth sooner than that woman's angry abuse. You dread a scene as a
musician does a false note. For me, I'm sick of the whole world."

"Why do you remain in it, then?" asked Adrien, laughing.

"For the same reason as yourself," replied the cynic. "Neither of us
know what the next will be like."

Adrien laughed, but before he could explain to his friend his plan with
regard to Ada, a crowd of pretty dancers in silver gauze surrounded him,
begging for real bon-bons, instead of the painted property sweets given
out to them.

"Do you girls think I am made of bon-bons, like the piece?" he said,
waving them back. "Why, you'll make yourselves ill."

"Oh, Mr. Leroy," pouted one, "we've danced so hard, too!"

"Go to Mr. Vermont, then," was the indolent reply; "he'll give you what
you want," and with a rush they swept back on to the stage.

"Always Jasper," murmured Shelton sadly, as his friend, with a genial
wave of the hand, picked his way past cardboard castles and paper trees,
till he disappeared through the door that would lead him to his
stage-box.

At eleven o'clock the play was over; the superbly-dressed women, with
their escorts, were descending the wide staircase, laughing and
discussing the piece, which seemed likely to become the success of the
season. Outside, the pavement was filled with the gay, excited crowds.
Whistles resounded for taxis hovering in the immediate vicinity, like
steel-plated birds of prey. Carriages were being shouted for, and
throughout all the bustle and excitement, a slight girlish form doggedly
kept its vigil near the main entrance.

The crowd of pleasure-seekers and onlookers had melted away, and the
attendants were busy turning out the lights, when the glass doors swung
open again, and three or four gentlemen came out, laughing and talking.

"Quite a success," said one of them.

"Yes, indeed," from another. "Paxhorn, I congratulate you again, old
man."

"Thank you," replied the author, his face beaming with satisfaction.
"Thanks to Leroy, it will run for a hundred nights, and my name will be
made."

"On Bon-bons," sneered Shelton; "what a thing it is to be a popular
playwright."

"Better to be a popular dancer," whispered Paxhorn, as the door swung
open again, and Adrien came out, with Ada Lester on his arm, Mr. Jasper
V