on!"

Alberto flew to his uncle, and was silently embraced. Even at this
moment, sacred to the interchange of the noblest affections, several
persons in the audience distinctly saw the uncle's left eye wink over
Alberto's shoulder to Bidette, who responded to the unwelcome
familiarity, this time, with an indignant frown.

The nephew gently uncoiled his uncle, and addressed himself to the
father:

"Respected sir, I have long loved your daughter, and am not totally
unprepared to believe that she may, in some slight measure, reciprocate
my affections. I humbly solicit her hand in marriage."

The father, with the characteristic decision of an old man of business,
had already made up his mind. Alberto, the young partner and heir of the
rich usurer of Venice, would be a more manageable son-in-law than the
middle-aged though wealthy Rodicaso. The father said words to this
effect in an "aside," and then replied aloud:

"Her hand is yours; and may your union be crowned with felicity. Come,
children, and receive a parent's blessing."

"My bitter curse be on you all! Boy, we shall meet again!" shouted
Rodicaso, striding off the stage, and followed by the notary for his
pay, and by the laughter and scorn of the rest of the company.

Fidelia's little cup of earthly happiness was now full. Her time for
fainting had arrived at last. Everybody moved to clear a space for her.
She rose, and walked with an unfaltering step toward Alberto. There was
no overdone rapture in her gait; no exaggerated ecstasy in her face. As
a practised critic remarked, "her calmness was the truest expression of
her agony of joy."

Alberto advanced halfway with a lover's ardor, and extended his arms.
Then was her time to faint; and she fainted with a slight scream,
sinking gently upon a faithful breast.

The father raised his hands above the couple, and blessed them in the
correct way, never seen off the stage. Uncle Bignolio wiped his eyes,
and murmured, "Dear boy! How much he looks like his father now!"--a
remark somewhat out of place, considering that Alberto's back was turned
to the uncle. Bidette hovered near the happy group, and danced for joy.

It was a touching tableau, and the spectators applauded it In a way
that tickled the heart of the author, who was watching the effect
through an eyehole of the left wing.

CHAPTER IV.

HOW THE PLAY ENDED.

Just as the curtain was to be rung down on the end of the play, a mad
clatter of boots w