know all about it. You won't mind my running away?--I'm on in the first
scene. There is Mrs. Grey waiting for you--you must go and get something
to eat--and when you come back, call at the stage-door, and you'll find
an envelope waiting for you, with two places in it--the dress circle, if
it can be managed, for I want you to be some distance away from the
orchestra. Good-bye, Nina!"

She held his hand for a moment.

"Leo, I thank you," she said, regarding him with her dark eyes; and then
he smiled and waved another farewell to her as he disappeared; and she
was left to make her way with her patient chaperon out of this great,
hollow, portentous building, that was now resounding with mysterious
clankings and calls.

And it was from a couple of seats in the back of the dress-circle that
Mrs. Grey and her young charge heard the comedy-opera of "The Squire's
Daughter;" and Lionel knew they were there; and no doubt he sang his
best--for, if Nina had been showing off what she could do in the
morning, why should he not show off now, amid all these added glories of
picturesque costumes and surroundings? Nina was in an extraordinary
state of excitement, which she was unable altogether to conceal. Mrs.
Grey could hear the little, muttered exclamations in Italian; she could
see how intently that expressive face followed the progress of the
piece, reflecting its every movement, as it were; she caught a glimpse
of tears on the long, dark lashes when Lionel was singing, with
impassioned fervor, his love-lorn serenade; and then the next moment she
was astonished by the vehemence of the girl's delight when the vast
house thundered forth its applause--indeed, Nina herself was clapping
her hands furiously, to join in the universal roar of a recall--she was