young woman had evidently produced a most favorable impression on the audience. But she seemed wholly unconscious of this compliment, and made her exit quite calmly. A buzz ran through the theater; the audience were discussing the merits of _Portia_. On the stage, too, she was the subject of many comments, and this continued until _Lancelot_ made his appearance and went through his speech; then _Portia_ reappeared with the _Prince_, and was greeted with great applause. Mr. Effingham leaned forward and touched the young woman’s sleeve. “Come,” he said with easy carelessness, and scarcely moderating his voice; “come, fair _Portia_, while that tiresome fellow is making his speech, and talk to me a little. We are old acquaintances, and you are indebted to me for directing you home.” “Yes, sir,” said Beatrice, turning her head slightly; “but pardon me--I have my part to attend to.” “I don’t care.” “Excuse me, sir; but I do.” “Really, madame, you are very stiff for an actress. Is it so very unusual a thing to ask a moment’s conversation?” “I know that it is the fashion in London and elsewhere, sir, but I dislike it. It destroys my conception of the character,” she said, calmly. Mr. Effingham laughed. “Come here again, and talk to me,” he said. “Did you not say we should meet again?” “Yes, sir; and I also said I was not a lady.” “Well, what is the meaning of that addition?” “It means, sir, that being an actress I am not at liberty to amuse myself here as I might were I a lady in a drawing room. Pardon me, sir,” she added, calmly, “I am neglecting what I have engaged to do--play _Portia_.” And the young woman, quietly disengaging her sleeve from Mr. Effingham’s fingers, moved away to another part of the stage. “Here is a pretty affair,” said Mr. Effingham to himself, as he fell back languidly into the chair from which, however, he had not deigned to rise wholly when addressing the young actress. “What are things coming to when an actress treats a gentleman in this manner. I really believe the girl thinks I am not good enough for her. ‘Pardon me, sir,’ was there ever such insufferable prudery and affectation. No doubt she wishes to catch me, and commences with this piquant piece of acting, or, perhaps,” added the elegant young gentleman, smoothing his frill, “she fell in love with me the other day when we met and is afraid she will betray herself. Not talk when I desire to talk with her, indeed, and yonder all of these people have seen her careless treatment of me and are laughing at me. Fortunately I am proof against these jeers. Come, come, let us see if Miss Portia will treat me as badly next time.” _Portia_ entered next with the _Prince of Arragon_, and while that gentleman was addressing the caskets, Mr. Effingham again applied himself to the task of forcing the young woman to converse with him. “Why did you treat me so just now?” he said, with abrupt carelessness. “How, sir.”