"Are you always as indifferent to the stars of the stage Captain?"
enquired Mrs. Wingfield, as she gently puffed away her delicate
cigarette. "What Eustace would do without his distractions in that
way, heaven only knows."
"He will outgrow it; most men have stage fever, as most babies have
measles," he answered evasively.
"And now for our mantles and away," said Lady Esmondet, rising.
"And may the mantle of resignation fall on the shoulders of poor Capt.
Trevalyon," said Vaura, taking his offered arm, and as the hand
leaning on his arm pressed closely, she said in low tones, "you had my
unregistered vote."
"_Merci_," he said, pressing her hand.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THEATRE FRANCAIS.
They found the theatre crowded from pit to dome. And the advent of our
little party, as they took possession of their box, caused no little
sensation even in that galaxy of beauty and fashion.
"By the lilies of France," said a Parisian, putting up his glass;
"though not the three graces, one of them is there."
"Yes, by the memory of Bonaparte, she is worth a long look," said his
companion, gazing at Vaura.
Pages:
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188