oved Princess of
Wales was to be present. So she hesitated for an instant.

"Why, you are very good," she said, doubtfully. "Will there be any other
people there,--any one not an employee, I mean?"

Paul misunderstood her and became a servant again.

"No, I am afraid there will be only the employees, Madam," he said.

"Oh, then, I should be very glad to come," murmured Celestine, sweetly.
"But I never sing out of the theatre, so you mustn't mind if it is not
good."

The head-waiter played a violent tattoo on the back of the chair in his
delight, and balanced and bowed.

"Ah, we are very proud and pleased that we can induce Madam to make so
great exceptions," he declared. "The committee will be most happy. We
will send a carriage for Madam, and a bouquet for Madam also," he added
grandly, as one who was not to be denied the etiquette to which he
plainly showed he was used.

* * * * *

"Will we come?" cried Van Bibber, incredulously, as he and Travers sat
watching Grahame make up in his dressing-room. "I should say we would
come. And you must all take supper with us first, and we will get Letty
Chamberlain from the Gaiety Company and Lester to come too, and make
them each do a turn."

"And we can dance on the floor ourselves, can't we?" asked Grahame West,
"as they do at home Christmas-eve in the servants' hall, when her
ladyship dances in the same set with the butler and the men waltz with
the cook."

"Well, over here," said Van Bibber, "you'll have to be careful that
you're properly presented to the cook first, or she'll appeal to the
floor committee and have you thrown out."

"The interesting thing about that ball," said Travers, as he and Van
Bibber walked home that night, "is the fact that those hotel people are
getting a galaxy of stars to amuse them for nothing who wouldn't exhibit
themselves at a Fifth Avenue dance for all the money in Wall Street. And
the joke of it is going to be that the servants will vastly prefer the
banjo solo by hall-boy Number Eight."

Lyric Hall lies just this side of the Forty-second Street station along
the line of the Sixth Avenue Elevated road, and you can look into its
windows from the passing train. It was after one o'clock when the
invited guests and their friends pushed open the storm-doors and were
recognized by the anxious committee-men who were taking tickets at the
top of the stairs. The committee-men fled in different directions,