cellence which reflected great credit upon the young star, who might
be supposed, if he had followed an unwise tradition, to be willing to
shine at the expense of his surroundings. His rendition of the role of
Haxard was magnificent in one journal, grand in another, superb in a
third, rich, full and satisfying in a fourth, subtle and conscientious
in a fifth. Beyond this, the critics ceased to be so much of one mind.
They were, by a casting vote, adverse to the leading lady, whom the
majority decided an inadequate Salome, without those great qualities
which the author had evidently meant to redeem a certain coquettish
lightness in her; the minority held that she had grasped the role with
intelligence, and expressed with artistic force a very refined intention
in it. The minority hinted that Salome was really the great part in the
piece, and that in her womanly endeavor to win back the lover whom she
had not at first prized at his true worth, while her heart was wrung by
sympathy with her unhappy father in the mystery brooding over him, she
was a far more interesting figure than the less complex Haxard; and they
intimated that Godolphin had an easier task in his portrayal. They all
touched more or less upon the conduct of the subordinate actors in their
parts, and the Maxwells, in every case, had to wade through their
opinions of the playing before they got to their opinions of the play,
which was the only vital matter concerned.

Louise would have liked to read them, as she had read the first, with
her arm across Maxwell's shoulder, and, as it were, with the same eye
and the same mind, but Maxwell betrayed an uneasiness under the
experiment which made her ask: "Don't you _like_ to have me put my arm
round you, Brice?"

"Yes, yes," he answered, impatiently, "I like to have you put your arm
around me on all proper occasions; but--it isn't favorable to collected
thought."

"Why, _I_ think it is," she protested with pathos, and a burlesque of
her pathos. "I never think half so well as when I have my arm around
you. Then it seems as if I thought with your mind. I feel so judicial."

"Perhaps I feel too emotional, under the same conditions, and think with
_your_ mind. At any rate, I can't stand it; and we can't both sit in the
same chair either. Now, you take one of the papers and go round to the
other side of the table. I want to have all my faculties for the
appreciation of this noble criticism; it's going to be full of