Audrey

Haward, entering the pit, made his way quietly to where a servant was

holding for him a place. The fellow pulled his forelock in response to

his master's nod, then shouldered his way through the press to the

ladder-like stairs that led to the upper gallery. Haward, standing at his

ease, looked about him, recognizing this or that acquaintance with his

slow, fine smile and an inclination of his head. He was much observed, and

presently a lady leaned from her box, smiled, waved her fan, and slightly

beckoned to him. It was young Madam Byrd, and Evelyn sat beside her.

Five minutes later, as Haward entered the box of the ladies of Westover,

music sounded, the curtain was drawn back, and the play began. Upon the

ruder sort in the audience silence fell at once: they that followed the

sea, and they that followed the woods, and all the simple folk ceased

their noise and gesticulation, and gazed spellbound at the pomp before

them of rude scenery and indifferent actors. But the great ones of the

earth talked on, attending to their own business in the face of Tamerlane

and his victorious force. It was the fashion to do so, and in the play

to-night the first act counted nothing, for Darden's Audrey had naught to

do with it. In the second act, when she entered as Arpasia, the entire

house would fall quiet, staring and holding its breath.

Haward bent over Madam Byrd's hand; then, as that lady turned from him to

greet Mr. Lee, addressed himself with grave courtesy to Evelyn, clothed in

pale blue, and more lovely even than her wont. For months they had not

met. She had written him one letter,--had written the night of the day

upon which she had encountered Audrey in the Palace walk,--and he had

answered it with a broken line of passionate thanks for unmerited

kindness. Now as he bent over her she caught his wrist lightly with her

hand, and her touch burned him through the lace of his ruffles. With her

other hand she spread her fan; Mr. Lee's shoulder knot also screened them

while Mr. Grymes had engaged its owner's attention, and pretty Madam Byrd

was in animated conversation with the occupants of a neighboring box. "Is

it well?" asked Evelyn, very low.

Haward's answer was as low, and bravely spoken with his eyes meeting her

clear gaze, and her touch upon his wrist. "For me, Evelyn, it is very

well," he said. "For her--may I live to make it well for her, forever and

a day well for her! She is to be my wife."