's.

"What are you doing, Nell?" he pleaded, wildly. "You will ruin the first
night. His Majesty in front, too! Dryden will never forgive us if
'Granada' goes wrong through our fault."

"Heyday! What care I for 'Granada'?" and Nell swung the basket of
oranges high in air and calmly awaited bids. "Not a step on the stage
till the basket is empty."

It was Buckingham's turn now. "Here's music for our manager," he
chuckled. "Our deepest sympathy, friend Hart."

This was more than Hart could bear. The manager of the King's House was
forced into profanity. "Damn your sympathy," exclaimed he; and few would
criticise him for it. He apologized as quickly, however, and turned to
Nell. "There goes your scene, Nell. I'll buy your oranges, when you come
off," he continued to plead, in desperation, scarcely less fearful of
offending her than of offending the great Lord Buckingham.

"Now or never," calmly replied the vender from her chair-top.

"The devil take the women," muttered Hart, frantically, as he rushed
headlong into his tiring-room.

"Marry, Heaven defend," laughed Nell; "for he's got the men already."
She sprang lightly from the chair to the floor.

Hart was back on the instant, well out of breath but purse in hand.

"Here, here," he exclaimed. "Never mind the oranges, wench. The audience
will be waiting."

"Faith and troth, and is not Nell worth waiting for?" she cried, her
eyes shining radiantly. Indeed, the audience would have gladly waited,
could they have but seen her pretty, winsome way! "These are
yours--all--all!" she continued, as she gleefully emptied the basket of
its remaining fruit over Prince Almanzor's head.

Hart protested vainly.

Then rushing back to Moll, Nell threw both arms about the girl
triumphantly. "There, Moll," she said, "is your basket and all the
trophies"; and she gave Moll the basket with the glittering coins
jangling in it.

"Your cue--your cue is spoken, Mistress Nell," shrieked Dick from the
stage-door.

Nell heeded not. Her eyes happening upon an orange which had fallen near
the throne-chair, she caught it up eagerly and hurled it at Manager
Hart.

"Forsooth, here's another orange, Master Manager."

He succeeded in catching it despite his excitement.

"Your cue--your cue--Mistress Nell!" came from every throat as one.

Nell tossed back her head indifferently. "Let them wait; let them wait,"
she said, defiantly.

The stage-beauty crossed leisurely to the glass and