xpected to be with her--Ella--what would life be
worth to her?

But if he was dissatisfied at being with Phyllis instead of Mrs. Linton,
he did not consider that any reason for neglecting the former. He
wondered if she had any choice in sandwiches--of course she had in
champagne. His curiosity was satisfied, and Phyllis was amply provided
for.

"You are Mrs. Linton's dearest friend," he remarked casually, as they
leaned up against the profile of the Church scene in "Cagliostro," for
they were standing in the "wings"--to be exact--on the O. P. side.

"She is my dearest friend, at any rate," said Phyllis.

"You were not at school together. She is four or five years older than
you."

"Only three. When she got married she seemed to me to be almost
venerable. Three years seemed a long time then."

"But now you fancy that you have formed a right idea of what is meant by
three years?"

"Well, a better idea, at any rate."

"You are still a good way off it. But if you have formed a right
estimate of a woman's friendship----"

"That's still something, you mean to say? But why did you stop short,
Mr. Courtland?"

Phyllis was looking up to his face with a smile of inquiry.

"I was afraid that you might think I was on the way to preach a sermon
on the text of woman's friendship. I pulled myself up just in time. I'm
glad that I didn't frighten you."

"Oh, no; you didn't frighten me, Mr. Courtland. I was only wondering
how you would go on--whether you would treat the topic sentimentally or
cynically."

"And what conclusion did you come to on the subject?"

"I know that you are a brave man--perhaps the bravest man alive. You
would, I think, have treated the question seriously--feelingly."

He laughed.

"The adoption of that course implies courage certainly. All the men of
sentimentality--which is something quite different from sentiment, mind
you--have taken to writing melodrama and penny novelettes. You didn't
hear much sentimentality on this stage to-night, or any other night, for
that matter."

"No; it would have sounded unreal. A Parthenon audience would resent
what they believed to be a false note in art; and a Parthenon audience
is supposed to be the concentration of the spirit of the period in
thought and art; isn't it?"

"I don't know. I'm half a savage. But I like to think the best of
a Parthenon audience; you and I formed part of that concentration
to-night--yes, I like to think the best of it. I supp