which seems to me quite as remarkable as
some of Wagner's masterpieces."

"Well, I am glad you enjoy it, Miss Moreland, but I fear my education
did not extend beyond the 'Mikado' and 'Ermine'; so when it comes to
grand opera I must confess my pleasure is confined to the _entre acte_.
I love to see the people, and if it were not for being rude I think I
should be tempted to run down to the club while the curtain is up."

"You have my permission, Mr. Sedger, but tell me who is that
good-looking man with Mr. Wainwright, coming down this way?"

"He is a New Yorker; Duncan Grahame is his name. I met him at the club
this afternoon."

"What is he doing here? One always seems to ask what a stranger is doing
in Chicago: I don't know why, I am sure."

"He is out here on business in connection with an elevator trust. He
seems to be a capital fellow, and, as he is a member of the Staten Club,
I suppose he needs no further patent of respectability. But here he
comes, so you can judge of him for yourself."

The two men of whom they were speaking entered the box. Harold
Wainwright spoke to the ladies and introduced his friend. Mrs. Sanderson
offered Duncan a seat beside her and said: "I have heard of you quite
frequently, Mr. Grahame, from a friend in New York, Miss Sibyl Wright,
and I think you should be grateful for having such an enthusiastic
admirer."

"Doubly so considering that she is a woman and it was to you she spoke.
I also have heard of you from scores of people in the East, and I made
Wainwright introduce me at the first opportunity. I arrived only this
morning, and I assure you I am quite without a guiding hand."

"You make me smile and frown by turns," she replied. "I was tempted to
feel flattered at the first part of your speech, but if it is a question
of any shade in the desert, I shall not feel strongly inclined to offer
you my protection in the Chicago wilderness."

"I think it would be advisable to interpret my speech as a compliment,
as I seldom make them."

"Really, Mr. Grahame, I am tempted to call you rude."

"It is not rudeness but frankness, I assure you, and I spoke the truth.
I have really been most anxious to meet you, and now that my desire has
been gratified I trust you will not be so cruel as to let the frown
remain. There goes the curtain. I am going to beg permission to return
after the next act."

"You deserve punishment for your rudeness, so I refuse to grant it. As a
penance for your