to an end, towards midnight, had established itself as an authentic
enormous success; and because Mr. Prohack did not care for it, because
it bored him, because he found it vulgar and tedious and expensive,
because it tasted in his mouth like a dust-and-ashes sandwich, the
fellow actually felt sad; he felt even bitter. He hated to see the
fashionable and splendid audience unwilling to leave the theatre,
cheering one super-favourite, five arch-favourites and fifteen
favourites, and cheering them again and again, and sending the curtain
up and down and up and down time after time. He could not bear that what
he detested should be deliriously admired. He went so far as to form
views about the decadence of the theatre as an institution. Most of all
he was disgusted because his beloved Eve was not disgusted. Eve said
placidly that she did not think much of the affair, but that she had
thoroughly enjoyed it and wouldn't mind coming on the next night to see
it afresh. He said gloomily:

"And I've been bringing you up for nearly twenty-five years."

As for Sissie, she was quietly and sternly enthusiastic about a lot of
the dancing. She announced her judgment as an expert, and Charlie agreed
with her, and there was no appeal, and Mr. Prohack had the air of an
ignorant outsider whose opinions were negligible. Further, he was absurd
in that, though he assuredly had no desire whatever to go to the dance,
he fretted at the delay in getting there. Even when they had all got out
to the porch of the theatre he exhibited a controlled but intense
impatience because Charlie did not produce the car instantly from amidst
the confused hordes of cars that waited in the surrounding streets.
Moreover, as regards the ball, he had foolishly put himself in a false
position; for he was compelled to pretend that he had purchased the
tickets because he personally wanted to go to the ball. Had he not been
learning to dance? Now the fact was that he looked forward to the ball
with terror. He had never performed publicly. He proceeded from one
pretence to another. When Charlie stated curtly that he, Charlie, was
going to no ball, he feigned disappointment, saying that Charlie ought
to go for his sister's sake. Yet he was greatly relieved at Charlie's
departure (even in Lady Massulam's car); he could not stomach the
notion of Charlie cynically watching his infant steps on the polished,
treacherous floor. In the matter of Charlie, Oswald Morfey also feig