fended elbow with the opposite hand, and sat crumpled up
till all had passed him: then went out alone. That little action of
disgust showed her that he had not lost spirit, albeit condemned to serve
amongst an inferior race, promoters of discord.

Just as the third play was opening, some commotion was seen in the pit,
rising from near Braintop's vacated seat; and presently a thing that
shone flashing to the lights, came on from hand to hand, each hand
signalling subsequently toward Mr. Pole's box. It approached. Braintop's
eyes were in waiting on Emilia, who looked sadly at the empty orchestra.
A gentleman in the stalls, a head beneath her, bowed, and holding up a
singular article, gravely said that he had been requested to pass it. She
touched Mr. Pole's shoulder. "Eh? anything funny?" said he, and glanced
around. He was in time to see Braintop lean hurriedly over the box, and
snatch his pocket-mirror from the gentleman's hand. "Ha! ha!" he laughed,
as if a comic gleam had illumined him. A portion of the pit and stalls
laughed too. Emilia smiled merrily. "What was it?" said she; and
perceiving many faces beneath her red among handkerchiefs, she was eager
to see the thing that the unhappy Braintop had speedily secreted.

"Come, sir, let's see it!" quoth Mr. Pole, itching for a fresh laugh; and
in spite of Braintop's protest, and in defiance of his burning blush, he
compelled the wretched youth to draw it forth, and be manifestly
convicted of vanity.

A shout of laughter burst from Mr. Pole. "No wonder these young sparks
cut us all out. Lord, what cunning dogs they are! They ain't satisfied
with seeing themselves in their boots, but they--ha! ha! By George! We've
got the best fun in our box. I say, Braintop! you ought to have two, my
boy. Then you'd see how you looked behind. Ha-ha-hah! Never enjoyed an
evening so much in my life! A looking-glass for their pockets! ha!
ha!--hooh!"

Luckily the farce demanded laughter, or those parts of the pit which had
not known Braintop would have been indignant. Mr. Pole became more and
more possessed by the fun, as the contrast of Braintop's abject
humiliation with this glaring testimony to his conceit tickled him. He
laughed till he complained of hunger. Emilia, though she thought it
natural that Braintop should carry a pocket-mirror if he pleased, laughed
from sympathy; until Braintop, reduced to the verge of forbearance, stood
up and remarked that, to perform the mission entrus