As the old man came lumbering in with two great volumes, bearing the title "Modes et Costumes Historique--Étranger," and, slamming them down on the table, began ostentatiously turning over the colored plates, Thrall, laughing good-naturedly, closed the book, saying: "Now, now, Lefebvre! You and Nonna Angelique here need no plates to dress Shakspere's people by, and you won't be so cross when you _see_ your new Juliet! Come now, Madame, no one knows better than you do how important is the setting of a jewel! Oh, I know what that shrug means and that 'la, la, la!' But as a just woman you must at least see my young Capulet before you condemn her. Miss Lawton," he continued, "please remove your jacket. Thanks! And now take off your veil and hat, please!" The autumn wind had somewhat roughened Sybil's hair, and she raised her hands to smooth it, but he stopped her: "Not for the world!" he said, laughingly. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the centre of the room, saying: "Monsieur et Madame, you will kindly costume this young girl for me, but only _if_ you can see in her a Juliet. If not, why--" he stopped. Flushed, excited, embarrassed under deliberate inspection, Sybil stood with downcast eyes and red, half-sullen lip, already quivering to a smile. The old pair stood at gaze. Then mutely the woman's hand went out and was caught in his. The girl saw, and with her sudden flashing smile, she raised imploring, dark eyes and looked at them. "Par Dieu!" cried old Lefebvre, "'tis Juliet's self!" "And oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" the old woman exclaimed, "if you can act as you can look the part! Oh, Mr. Thrall, I crave your pardon! Will I costume her?--_will I?_ We shall make of her that last blossom of the House of Capulet--the very Juliet herself!" She turned and half whispered to the old man, "Slight and dark!" He took snuff furiously, and added: "Rich colored, quick tempered, hot!" And then, together: "Let's see! let's see!" and they turned excitedly toward their boxes. "No velvet, I think?" suggested Thrall, who was highly elated that his judgment, so far, had been so heartily seconded by this experienced old couple. "Velvet? Bah!" responded Nonna Angelique, with a condemnatory wave of the hand that swept velvet entirely out of consideration. "Too old! too heavy! but--but--" She tossed things right and left in hurried, nervous search.--"Where's that blond lace scarf?" she fretted, "where?--where? And why don't you open the cabinet, and not stand there wasting time, mon mari?" As they stood waiting, Stewart Thrall said, laughingly: "Patience, patience! We are in the hands of the powers that be. These are the people who 'paint the lily' and--er--er--touch up refined gold! And, Miss Lawton, haven't you been about a theatre long enough to learn how indiscreet it is to laugh at your manager's imperfect quotations? You should reserve your merriment for those occasions when he tells a supposedly funny story. Ah! ah! the lost is found!"