wronged,
the acting is splendid and more than once Miss Seaton feels a lump in
her throat, but it is over at length and the curtain falls for the last
time.

'Did you like it?' asks Ponsonby, helping her on with her cloak.

'Very much,' she replies, 'I have never been to an English theatre
before, you know, but it was awfully sad.'

'Sadder if it had been the man wronged,' he says--

Philippa looks up with a laughing retort about each one for himself, but
he seems so very grave that she refrains and wonders why he said that,
but it is sometime before she finds out.

CHAPTER II

'A face in a crowd, a glance, a droop of the lashes,
and all is said.'--MARION CRAWFORD.

It is some days later, and having a ball in prospect, Mrs Seaton has
left Philippa to rest, whilst she goes on a round of visits; and
Philippa, nothing loth, settles herself comfortably on the sofa with a
book, and prepares to enjoy a lazy afternoon, but she is destined to
interruption. The door suddenly bursts open and Teddy flies in, with
'Oh, Aunt Lippa, will you come into the Square with me. Marie's sister
has come to see her and it would be kind to let them be together, don't
you think--'

Lippa feels inclined to suggest that it would be just as kind to let her
alone, but she refrains and merely says 'Well?'

'Will you?' asks the little boy, emphasizing his words by leaning
heavily against his aunt. 'You see,' he continues, 'I do feel sometimes
lonely, 'cos Marie's old and won't run, and I think you look as if you
could--'

'I have done so in the course of my life,' she answers laughing, 'and I
might be able to do so again.'

'Then you will try this afternoon, won't you?' this very coaxingly.
'Marie had better walk with us there, but it's such a little way we can
come back by ourselves, can't we.'

'Yes; I should think so,' says Philippa.

'Then I'll just go and get my hat,' and Teddy, pausing at the door,
adds. 'Do you know I think you're a very good aunt for a boy to have.'

'Indeed?' and Lippa laughs.

She finds it quite as pleasant sitting under a shady tree in the Square,
as on the sofa in Brook Street; and her nephew does not require her to
run, having found another companion in the person of a fat, very plain
little girl; but after some time she has to go home, and Teddy having
worried the life out of a stray cat, returns to his aunt, with a red,
smutty face.

'Well,' he says, 'I am so hot, what shall I