an acquaintance of Van Brinen's. Claude
asked him if Van Brinen were in the house. He said yes. Claude then
inquired whether Van Brinen knew the number of his box, and was told
that he did know it. The conversation turned to other topics, but when
the two men had gone out Charmian said:

"Why did you ask those questions about Mr. Van Brinen, Claudie?"

"Only because I thought if he knew where our box was he might pay us a
visit. No one has been more friendly with us than he has."

"I see. He's certain to come after the next act. Ah! the lights are
going down."

She had been standing for a few minutes. Now she moved to sit down.
Before doing so she drew her chair a little way back in the box.

"I don't want to be distracted from the stage--my attention, I mean--by
seeing too many people," she whispered, in explanation of her action.
"You are quite right to keep at the back. One can listen much better if
one doesn't see too much of the audience."

Claude said nothing. The curtains were parting.

The second act was listened to by the vast audience in a silence that
was almost complete.

Now and then Charmian whispered a word or two to Claude. Once she said:

"Isn't it wonderful, the silence of a crowd? Doesn't it show how
absorbed they are?"

And again:

"I think it's such a mercy that modern methods of composition give no
opportunity to the audience to break in with applause. Any interruption
would ruin the effect of the act as a whole."

Claude just moved his head in reply.

Everything was satisfactory. Jacob Crayford had been right. The opera
was ready for production and was "going" without a hitch. The elaborate
scenic effects were working perfectly. Miss Mardon had never been more
admirable, more completely mistress of her art. Nor had she ever looked
more wonderful. Alston Lake's success was assured. His voice filled the
great house without difficulty. Even Charmian and Claude were surprised
by its volume and beauty.

"Isn't Alston splendid?" whispered Charmian once.

"Yes," Claude replied.

He added, after a pause:

"Dear old Alston is safe."

Charmian turned her face toward the stage. Now and then she moved rather
restlessly in her chair. She had a fan with her and began to use it.
Then she laid it down on the ledge of the box, then took it up again,
opened it, closed it, and kept it in her hand. She felt the audience
almost like a weight laid upon her. Their silent attention began to
fright