saw the house now for the first time, and I saw something which
pleased me very little. We were immediately opposite the Royal box,
which, with the one adjoining, was occupied by a very brilliant little
party. The Archduchess was there. It was she whose lorgnettes were still
unfalteringly directed towards Isobel. Lady Delahaye sat in the
background, and a greater personage than either occupied the chair next
to the Archduchess. Soon I saw that they were all whispering together,
all still looking from Isobel towards the stage, and from the stage to
Isobel; and in the background was a man whose coat was covered with
orders, and who held himself like a soldier. He looked at Isobel as one
might look at a ghost. I stood back almost hidden in the shadows, and I
wondered more than ever what the end of all these things might be.

Towards the close of the act that wonderful voice, with its low burden
of sorrow so marvellously controlled, drew me against my will to the
front of the box. He stood there with outstretched arms, the prototype
of all pathos, and the low words, drawn as it were against his will from
his tremulous lips, kept the whole house breathless. His arms dropped to
his side, the curtain commenced to fall. In that moment his eyes,
suddenly uplifted, met mine. It seemed to me that they were charged with
meaning, and I read their message rightly. After all, though, I am not
sure that I needed any warning.

The curtain fell. There was twenty minutes' interval. Isobel sat back in
her chair, and her hand lingered lovingly about the roses which lay upon
her lap. I did not speak to her. I knew that she was living in a little
world of her own, into which any ordinary intrusion was almost
sacrilege. Arthur and Allan had left their places. I judged rightly that
they had gone home. So I sat by myself, and waited for what I knew was
sure to happen.

And presently it came--the knock at the box door for which I had been
listening. I rose and opened it. A tall young Englishman, with smooth
parted hair, whose evening attire was so immaculate as to become almost
an offence, stood and stared at me through his eyeglass.

"Mr. Greatson!" he suggested. "Mr. Arnold Greatson?"

I acknowledged the fact with becoming meekness.

"My name is Milton," he said--"Captain Angus Milton. I am in the suite
of the Archduchess for this evening. Her Highness occupies the box
opposite to yours."

I bowed.

"I have noticed the fact," I answer