ene succeeded scene with a natural charm, revealing unexpected
resources, from pathos to sorrow; from vanity to humility; from scorn
to love awakened. And, when the transition did come, every pose spoke
of the quickening heart; her movements proclaimed the golden fetters;
passion shone in her glances, defiant though willing, lofty though
humble, joyous though shy.

Was it the heat from the lamps?--but Mauville's brow became flushed;
his buoyancy seemed gross and brutal; desire lurked in his lively
glances; Pan gleamed from the curls of Hyperion!

The play jogged on its blithesome course to its wonted end; the duke
delivered the excellent homily,

"A gentle wife
Is still the sterling comfort of a man's life,"

and the well-pleased audience were preparing to leave when Barnes, in
a drab jacket and trunks, trimmed with green ribbon bows, came forward
like the clown in the circus and addressed the "good people."

"In the golden age," said the father of Juliana, "great men treated
actors like servants, and, if they offended, their ears were cut off.
Are we, in brave America, returning to the days when they tossed an
actor in a blanket or gave a poet a hiding? Shall we stifle an art
which is the purest inspiration of Athenian genius? The law prohibits
our performing and charging admission, but it does not debar us from
taking a collection, if"--with a bow in which dignity and humility
were admirably mingled--"you deem the laborer worthy of his hire?"

This novel epilogue was received with laughter and applause, but the
audience, although good-natured, contained its proportion of timid
souls who retreat before the passing plate. The rear guard began to
show faint signs of demoralization, when Mauville sprang to his feet.
Pan had disappeared behind his leafy covert; it was the careless,
self-possessed man of the world who arose.

"I am not concerned about the ethics of art," he said lightly, "but
the ladies of the company may count me among their devout admirers. I
am sure," he added, bowing to the manager with ready grace, "if they
were as charming in the old days, after the lords tossed the men, they
made love to the women."

"There were no actresses in those days, sir," corrected Barnes,
resenting the flippancy of his aristocratic auditor.

"No actresses?" retorted the heir. "Then why did people go to the
theater? However, without further argument, let me be the firs