that he was backing the piece, that he was the "Angel," as those weak
and wealthy individuals are called who allow themselves to be led into
supplying the finances for theatrical experiments. But as he never
peered through the curtain-hole to count the house, nor made frequent
trips to the front of it to look at the box sheet, but was, on the
contrary, just as undisturbed on a rainy night as on those when the
"standing room only" sign blocked the front entrance, this supposition
was discarded as untenable. Nor did he show the least interest in the
prima donna, or in any of the other pretty women of the company; he
did not know them, nor did he make any effort to know them, and it was
not until they inquired concerning him outside of the theatre that
they learned what a figure in the social life of the city he really
was. He spent most of his time in Lester's dressing-room smoking,
listening to the reminiscences of Lester's dresser when Lester was on
the stage; and this seclusion and his clerical attire of evening dress
led the second comedian to call him Lester's father confessor, and to
suggest that he came to the theatre only to take the star to task for
his sins. And in this the second comedian was unknowingly not so very
far wrong. Lester, the comedian, and young Van Bibber had known each
other at the university, when Lester's voice and gift of mimicry had
made him the leader in the college theatricals; and later, when he had
gone upon the stage, and had been cut off by his family even after he
had become famous, or on account of it, Van Bibber had gone to visit
him, and had found him as simple and sincere and boyish as he had been
in the days of his Hasty-Pudding successes. And Lester, for his part,
had found Van Bibber as likable as did every one else, and welcomed
his quiet voice and youthful knowledge of the world as a grateful
relief to the boisterous _camaraderie_ of his professional
acquaintances. And he allowed Van Bibber to scold him, and to remind
him of what he owed to himself, and to touch, even whether it hurt or
not, upon his better side. And in time he admitted to finding his
friend's occasional comments on stage matters of value as coming from
the point of view of those who look on at the game; and even Kripps,
the veteran, regarded him with respect after he had told him that he
could turn a set of purple costumes black by throwing a red light on
them. To the company, after he came to know them, he wa
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