mbassadors At their ease.
He wondered if a beautiful heiress, whose hand was sought in marriage
by the nobility of England, would understand the importance of a London
correspondent. He hoped someone would tell her. He liked to think of her
as being considerably impressed and a little unhappy.

Saturday night he went to the theatre for which he had purchased
tickets. And he went alone, for the place that Sister Anne was to have
occupied could not be filled by any other person. It would have been
sacrilege. At least, so it pleased him to pretend. And all through
dinner, which he ate alone at the same restaurant to which he had
intended taking her, he continued, to pretend she was with him. And
at the theatre, where there was going forward the most popular of all
musical comedies, the seat next to him, which to the audience, appeared
wastefully empty, was to him filled with her gracious presence. That
Sister Anne was not there--that the pretty romance he had woven about
her had ended in disaster--filled, him with real regret. He was glad he
was leaving New York. He was glad he was going, where nothing would
remind him of her. And then he glanced up--and looked straight into her
eyes!

He was seated in the front row, directly on the aisle. The seat Sister
Anne was supposed to be occupying was on his right, and a few seats
farther to his right rose the stage box and in the stage box, and in the
stage box, almost upon the stage, and with the glow of the foot-lights
full in her face, was Anita Flagg, smiling delightedly down on him.
There were others with her. He had a confused impression of bulging
shirt-fronts, and shining silks, and diamonds, and drooping plumes upon
enormous hats. He thought he recognized Lord Deptford and Holworthy; but
the only person he distinguished clearly was Anita Flagg. The girl was
all in black velvet, which was drawn to her figure like a wet bathing
suit; round her throat was a single string of pearls, and on her hair of
golden-rod was a great hat of black velvet, shaped like a bell, with the
curving lips of a lily. And from beneath its brim Anita Flagg, sitting
rigidly erect with her white-gloved hands resting lightly on her knee,
was gazing down at him, smiling with pleasure, with surprise, with
excitement.

When she saw that, in spite of her altered appearance, he recognized
her, she bowed so violently and bent her head so eagerly that above her
the ostrich plumes dipped and courtesied lik