s contagious, and spread all
over the room; for the audience, gentle and simple, though they might
not have followed the blank verse in all its bearings, could at least
appreciate a kiss. It was the unusual acclamation raised by this means
which had led Somerset to turn his head.

When the play had ended the stranger was the first to rise, and going
downstairs at the head of the crowd he passed out of doors, and was lost
to view. Some questions were asked by the landlord as to the stranger's
individuality; but few had seen him; fewer had noticed him, singular as
he was; and none knew his name.

While these things had been going on in the quarter allotted to the
commonalty, Somerset in front had waited the fall of the curtain with
those sick and sorry feelings which should be combated by the aid of
philosophy and a good conscience, but which really are only subdued by
time and the abrading rush of affairs. He was, however, stoical enough,
when it was all over, to accept Mrs. Goodman's invitation to accompany
her to the drawing-room, fully expecting to find there a large company,
including Captain De Stancy.

But none of the acting ladies and gentlemen had emerged from their
dressing-rooms as yet. Feeling that he did not care to meet any of them
that night, he bade farewell to Mrs. Goodman after a few minutes of
conversation, and left her. While he was passing along the corridor,
at the side of the gallery which had been used as the theatre, Paula
crossed it from the latter apartment towards an opposite door. She was
still in the dress of the Princess, and the diamond and pearl necklace
still hung over her bosom as placed there by Captain De Stancy.

Her eye caught Somerset's, and she stopped. Probably there was something
in his face which told his mind, for she invited him by a smile into the
room she was entering.

'I congratulate you on your performance,' he said mechanically, when she
pushed to the door.

'Do you really think it was well done?' She drew near him with a
sociable air.

'It was startlingly done--the part from "Romeo and Juliet" pre-eminently
so.'

'Do you think I knew he was going to introduce it, or do you think I
didn't know?' she said, with that gentle sauciness which shows itself in
the loved one's manner when she has had a triumphant evening without the
lover's assistance.

'I think you may have known.'

'No,' she averred, decisively shaking her head. 'It took me as much by
surprise as