“Americans?” demanded his companion, preparing to adjust her own glass. “Yes, your ladyship,” was the quiet response. “Ah!” Her ladyship, as she uttered this with a slight accent of contempt, evidently did not deem them worthy the effort of a glance, and accordingly turned her glass toward the stage, the curtain having risen for the first act. For a time the attention of all was attracted in the same direction. Brownie sat as one entranced, forgetting the past, and living over again the exquisite delight which she had so often experienced in by-gone days. “You are fond of the opera, Miss Douglas?” Wilbur whispered, when the curtain at length fell. “Passionately,” she replied, turning her glowing face toward him; then added: “And, Mr. Coolidge, you have given me the first bit of unalloyed pleasure I have had since great misfortune came upon me.” Her voice quivered, her eyes were dewy, and her breast heaved with the deliciousness of the hour. “I would I could henceforth give you every joy of earth,” he murmured, tenderly, in her ear. “Wilbur,” his mother said, in cold, hard tones, “will you come and arrange your sister’s cloak?” She had watched his every movement, and her heart was in a tumult of rage at that artful girl for presuming to keep him at her side. A meaning glance was exchanged between mother and daughter, as she made her request; and after the cloak was satisfactorily arranged, as he was about returning to his post, Isabel said: “Sit down here, Wilbur, and point out to me some of the people whom you know.” He pointed out several, when she suddenly exclaimed: “Why, there is Mr. Dredmond who came over with us, is it not?” “Yes,” dryly replied her brother. “I like his appearance very much. I wish you would go and bring him here, and introduce him to us.” “What is the use? Any other time will do as well, and it is nearly time for the curtain to rise again,” he said, impatiently, and with an uneasy glance toward Miss Douglas. “Oh, there is plenty of time. Look! he is bowing to you now.” Wilbur returned the salutation, but did not move, and his mother exclaimed: “Do oblige your sister, Wilbur. He is, indeed, a fine-looking young man; I wonder if he is well connected?” “Rather. He is grandson to an earl,” was the laconic reply. “An earl!” ejaculated both mother and daughter, in a breath. “Yes; so I have lately learned, and, notwithstanding he will succeed to an earldom upon his grandfather’s death, he is very modest about it, and prefers to be addressed as plain Mr. Dredmond, rather than ‘my lord.’” “Wilbur, you must introduce him, by all means. Isabel, who knows what may happen?” and Mrs. Coolidge, much excited at the intelligence she had just received, ruffled her feathers with motherly pride. “There, Wilbur! I do believe he is coming here. He has left his box, and is coming this way!” exclaimed Isabel, her cheeks flushing a vivid scarlet at the thought of being introduced to a peer of the realm.