ngth came the masquerade-scene, and in a short time the French
dancers appeared. Just then, a short, fat, red-faced and very vulgar
Englishwoman who sat behind Madeline and Juliet, gave each of them a
twitch on the shoulder, saying, in a broad Yorkshire dialect, "I'll
thank you gals or ladies or whatsomdever you be, to take off your
bunnets and let a body have some chance of seeing the show; for I've
been popping my ead back and furrads atween you ever sence you comed
hin, and thof I've as good a right to see as any body else, I've ardly
got a squint at the hactors yet."

The girls were now in a most critical dilemma. To take off their bonnets
seemed out of the question, as the exposure of their heads would no
doubt betray them, and their fear and perplexity were so great that they
had not presence of mind either to speak or move.

"Don't pertend that you don't ear me," said the Englishwoman, giving
them both a hard push forward with her huge hands. "I bees a true King
Georgeswoman, and won't be put upon by none of the Yankees, not I, thof
I _am_ come to their country. I pays my money as well as you, and I've
jist as good a right to see the show; and if you won't take off them big
bunnets, I'll be bound I'll make you, if there's even a row about it.
I've raised a row afore this time when I've been put upon."

"Oh! let us go, let us go," said Juliet, gasping with terror, and
seizing Madeline's arm.

"Honly wait," continued the Englishwoman, "till I tells my usband, who
sets ahind here, to call 'turn 'em out.' You _may_ be ladies. But I bees
an onest oman, and if I've come to a land of liberty, the more reason
that I should make free to speak my mind; and if we're all hequal, why
then nobody han't no right to put upon me."

By this time the two girls, in an agony of trepidation, had scrambled
over the benches and got to the door, expecting every instant to hear
the dreaded words, "turn them out," and to see Edward's eyes directed
towards them, with those of the whole audience. Scarcely conscious of
what they were doing, they ran down the gallery-stairs, and flew out of
the door into the street. As is usual toward the latter part of the
play, a number of boys had collected about the fruit-stalls waiting for
checks, that they might gain admittance to see the farce; and as
Madeline ran past them, her cloak flew open, and the moonbeams shone
brightly on a brilliant ring which she always wore on her fore-finger.
This with