nto his head, I wonder?

The night of our grand theatricals at length arrived, and we were all
assembled in the library, converted for the time into a green-room.
Mounteagle was repeating to himself, for the hundredth time, his part of
_Lord Tinsel_; I, in my _Modus_ dress, which I had a disagreeable idea
was not becoming, was endeavoring to make an impression on the
not-to-be impressed Mary, and Florence was looking lovelier than ever in
her rich old-fashioned dress, when Fane entered, and bending, offered
her a bouquet of rare flowers. She blushed deeply as she took it. Oh!
Fane, Fane, what will you have to answer for?

We were waiting the summons for the first scene, when, to Mary's horror,
I suddenly exclaimed that I could not play!

"Good Heavens! why not?" was the general inquiry.

"Why!" I said. "I never thought of it until now, but certainly _Modus_
ought to appear without moustaches, and, hang it, I cannot cut mine
off."

"Take my life, but spare my moustaches!" cried Mary, in tragic tones.
"Certainly though, Mr. Wilmot, you are right; _Modus_ ought not to be
seen with the characteristic 'musk-toshes,' as nurse calls them; of an
English officer. What is to be done?"

"Please, sir, will you come? Major Vaughan says the group is agoing to
be set for the first scene, and you are wanted, sir," was a flunkey's
admonition to Fane, who went off accordingly, after advising me to add a
dishevelled beard to my tenderly cared-for moustaches, which would seem
as if _Modus_ had entirely neglected his toilette.

There was a general rush for part books, a general cry for things that
were not forthcoming, and a general despair on the parts of the youngest
amateurs at forgetting their cues just when they were most wanted.

Fane, when he came off the stage after the first scene, leant against a
pillar to watch the pretty one between _Julia_ and _Helen_, so near that
he must have been seen by the audience, and presented a most handsome
and interesting spectacle, I dare say, for young ladies to gaze at.
Fixing his eyes on Florence, whose rendering of the part was really
perfect as she uttered these words, "Helen, I'm constancy!" he
unconsciously muttered aloud, "I believe it!"

"So do I!" I could not help saying, "and therefore more shame to whoever
wins such a heart to throw it away. 'Beneath her feet, a duke--a duke
might lay his coronet!'" I quoted.

"Are you in love yourself, Fred?" laughed the captain; then, stroki