nversation
which she frequently indulged in seemed a weariness to the flesh; while
her applause was so plainly a mere matter of courtesy as almost to miss
being a courtesy at all.

When, therefore, in the last act, I approached that truly dreadful
five-page speech, which after a laconic "Go on!" from the young minister
is continued through several more pages, I actually trembled with fear,
lest her _ennui_ should find some unpleasant outward expression.
However, I dared not balk at the jump, so took it as bravely as I could.

As I stood in the middle of the stage addressing the minister, and my
lover on my left, I faced her box directly. I can see her now. She was
almost lying in her chair, her hands hanging limply over its arms, her
face, her whole body suggesting a repressed yawn.

I began, slowly the words fell, one by one, in low, shamed tones:--

"I was just eight years old, and I was half dead with starvation."

Her hands closed suddenly on the arms of her chair, and she lifted
herself upright. I went on:--

"I was alone--the rain was falling." (She drew her great fur cloak
closely about her.) "The night was coming on--and--and--I
begged--_openly_--LOUDLY--as only a hungry child can beg."

She sat back in her seat with a pale, frowning face; while within the
perfumed furry warmth of her cloak she shivered so that the diamonds at
her ears sent out innumerable tiny spears of colour.

The act went on to its close; her attention never flagged. When I
responded to a call before the curtain, she gravely handed me her bunch
of roses.

A few moments later, by a happy accident, I was presented to her; when
with that touch of bitterness that so often crept into her voice she
said:--

"You hold your glass too steadily and at too true an angle to quite
please me."

"I do not understand," I answered.

She smiled, her radiantly lovely smile, then with just a suspicion of a
sneer replied, "Oh, yes, I think you do; at all events, I do not find it
amusing to be called upon to look at too perfect a reflection of my own
childhood."

At which I exclaimed entreatingly, "Don't--please don't--"

I might have found it hard to explain just what I meant; but she
understood, for she gave my hand a quick, hard pressure, and a kind look
shone from her splendid eyes. Next moment she was sweeping superbly
toward her carriage, with her gentlemen in waiting struggling for the
opportunity to do her service. So here, again, was th