. Their critic was
ill--Matravers, who had at first laughed at the idea, had consented
after much pressure to take his place. He felt himself from the first
confronted with a difficult task, yet he entered upon it with a
certain grave seriousness, characteristic of the man, anxious to
arrive at and to comprehend the true meaning of what in its first
crude presentation to his senses seemed wholly devoid of anything
pertaining to art.

The first act was almost over before the heroine of the play, and the
actress concerning whose merits there was already some difference of
opinion, appeared. A little burst of applause, half-hearted from the
house generally, enthusiastic from a few, greeted her entrance.
Ellison, watching his companion's face closely, was gratified to find
a distinct change there. In Matravers' altered expression was
something more than the transitory sensation of pleasure, called up by
the unexpected appearance of a very beautiful woman. The whole
impassiveness of that calm, almost marble-still face, with its set,
cold lips, and slightly wearied eyes, had suddenly disappeared, and
what Ellison had hoped for had arrived. Matravers was, without doubt,
interested.

[Illustration: "What I have seen," Matravers said gravely, "I do not
like"]

Yet the woman, whose appearance had caused a certain thrill to quiver
through the house, and whose coming had certainly been an event to
Matravers, did absolutely nothing for the remainder of that dreary
first act to redeem the forlorn play, or to justify her own peculiar
reputation. She acted languidly, her enunciation was imperfect, her
gestures were forced and inapt. When the curtain went down upon the
first act, Matravers was looking grave. Ellison was obviously uneasy.

"Berenice," he muttered, "is not herself to-night. She will improve.
You must suspend your judgment."

Matravers fingered his programme nervously.

"You are interested in this production, Ellison," he said, "and I
should be sorry to write anything likely to do it harm. I think it
would be better if I went away now. I cannot be blamed if I decline to
give an opinion on anything which I have only partially seen."

Ellison shook his head.

"No, I'll chance it," he said. "Don't go. You haven't seen Berenice at
her best yet. You have not seen her at all, in fact."

"What I have seen," Matravers said gravely, "I do not like."

"At least," Ellison protested, "she is beautiful."

"According to w