blessed by the proclaimed admiration of the gods in the gallery. In the
succeeding acts he introduced a second personal influence, exerted this
time on the side of evil, and permitted it to act upon his central figure
successfully. The man fell again into the mire, and was left there at the
conclusion of the piece, but hugging a different sin, not the sin he had
been embracing when the curtain rose upon the first act. This dramatic
scheme took away the breath of the house for a moment, but only for a
moment. Then the lungs once more did their accustomed duty, and enabled
a large number of excited persons to hiss with a wonderful penetration.
Their well-meant efforts did not have the effect of terrorizing the
author. On the contrary, he quickly responded to the hostile uproar,
and, coming forward in a very neat Jaeger suit, a flannel shirt, and a
pair of admirably fitting doeskin gloves, bowed with great gravity and
perfect self-possession. The hisses thereupon suddenly faded into
piercing entreaties for a speech, in which a gallery lady with a powerful
soprano voice became notorious as the leader. But the Jaeger author was
not to be prevailed upon. He waved the doeskin gloves in token of adieu,
and retreated once more into the excited obscurity of the wings, where
his manager was trembling like an aspen, in the midst of a perspiring
company. The lights were turned down. The orchestra burst into a tuneful
jig, and the lingering audience at length began to disperse.

Dr. Levillier, Julian, and Valentine left their box in silence. It
seemed that this odd play, which dared to be natural, had impressed
them. They walked into the vestibule without a word, and, avoiding many
voluble friends who were letting off the steam as they gathered their
coats and hats from a weary lady in a white cap, they threaded their way
through the crowd and emerged into the street. Just as they reached the
portico, Julian suddenly started and laid his hand on Valentine's arm.