after crying out "Bravo."

All the house was affected. Foker, for his part, taking out a large
yellow bandanna, wept piteously. As for Pen, he was gone too far for
that. He followed the woman about and about--when she was off the stage,
it and the house were blank; the lights and the red officers, reeled
wildly before his sight. He watched her at the side-scene--where she
stood waiting to come on the stage, and where her father took off her
shawl: when the reconciliation arrived, and she flung herself down on Mr.
Bingley's shoulders, whilst the children clung to their knees, and the
Countess (Mrs. Bingley) and Baron Steinforth (performed with great
liveliness and spirit by Garbetts)--while the rest of the characters
formed a group round them, Pen's hot eyes only saw Fotheringay,
Fotheringay. The curtain fell upon him like a pall. He did not hear a
word of what Bingley said, who came forward to announce the play for the
next evening, and who took the tumultuous applause, as usual, for
himself. Pen was not even distinctly aware that the house was calling for
Miss Fotheringay, nor did the manager seem to comprehend that anybody
else but himself had caused the success of the play. At last he
understood it--stepped back with a grin, and presently appeared with Mrs.
Haller on his arm. How beautiful she looked! Her hair had fallen down,
the officers threw her flowers. She clutched them to her heart. She put
back her hair, and smiled all round. Her eyes met Pen's. Down went the
curtain again: and she was gone. Not one note could he hear of the
overture which the brass band of the dragoons blew by kind permission of
Colonel Swallowtail.

"She is a crusher, ain't she now!" Mr. Foker asked of his companion.

Pen did not know exactly what Foker said, and answered vaguely. He could