s a great curiosity to know about the
girl. Did you ever see her?"

"Only in public. I don't know Mavick personally, and for reasons," and
Mr. Brad laughed in a superior manner. "It's easy enough to see her."

"How?"

"Watch out for a Wagner night, and go to the opera. You'll see where
Mavick's box is in the bill. She is pretty sure to be there, and her
mother. There is nothing special about her; but her mother is still
a very fascinating woman, I can tell you. You'll find her sure on a
'Carmen' night, but not so sure of the girl."

On this suggestion Philip promptly acted. The extra expense of an
orchestra seat he put down to his duty to keep his family informed of
anything that interested them in the city. It was a "Siegfried" night,
and a full house. To describe it all would be very interesting to Alice.
The Mavick box was empty until the overture was half through. Then
appeared a gentleman who looked as if he were performing a public duty,
a lady who looked as if she were receiving a public welcome, and seated
between them a dark, slender girl, who looked as if she did not see the
public at all, but only the orchestra.

Behind them, in the shadow, a middle-aged woman in plainer attire. It
must be the Scotch governess. Mrs. Mavick had her eyes everywhere about
the house, and was graciously bowing to her friends. Mr. Mavick coolly
and unsympathetically regarded the house, quite conscious of it, but
as if he were a little bored. You could not see him without being aware
that he was thinking of other things, probably of far-reaching schemes.
People always used to say of Mavick, when he was young and a clerk in a
Washington bureau, that he looked omniscient. At least the imagination
of spectators invested him with a golden hue, and regarded him through
the roseate atmosphere that surrounds a many-millioned man. The girl had
her eyes always on the orchestra, and was waiting for the opening of
the world that lay behind the drop-curtain. Philip noticed that all the
evening Mrs. Mavick paid very little attention to the stage, except when
the rest of the house was so dark that she could distinguish little in
it.

Fortunately for Philip, in his character of country reporter, the Mavick
box was near the stage, and he could very well see what was going on
in it, without wholly distracting his attention from Wagner's sometimes
very dimly illuminated creation.

There are faces and figures that compel universal attention an