One hand fluttered up to her heart. “Well, this is a nice mess!” thought Merriwell. “What can I do with her?” He did not like to run away; it did not seem dignified. “As I watched you last night,” she went on, swiftly, “I became more and more infatuated. When the curtain fell on the third act I was completely carried away. I knew I had found the hero of my life’s dream. I did not know you. We had never met before. I knew of no manner of obtaining an introduction. Then it was I resolved to fling conventionality to the wind, and I hastily wrote a single line on a slip of paper, which I attached to the flowers I carried. Then, when you were called before the curtain, I flung the flowers at your feet. You picked them up—oh, bliss!—and bowed and smiled upon me!” She seemed trembling with the great excitement that governed her. The embarrassment of Frank’s position increased. “Hang it!” he thought. “I wish I had let those flowers alone!” “I went home,” the young woman continued. “And all last night I dreamed of you, over and over and over. They were happy dreams. Ah, I was so sorry when the light of morning came in at my window and drove away my dreams by robbing me of sleep. I tried to sleep and dream some more.” “Well, she’s got it bad!” Merry mentally exclaimed. “I’m afraid I’ll have trouble with this case. I wonder if insanity runs in her family. She’s old enough to know better, so she must be cracked.” “At last,” the panting woman continued, leaning toward him, “I arose, and I made a desperate resolve to meet you somehow—anyhow. Then I wrote to you in the words of _Juliet_, which seemed to express my feelings so well. Did you receive my letter?” “Yes,” confessed Frank. Her face lighted up. “Ah,” she sighed, “I wonder if you understood—I wonder if you knew how sincere I was! Oh, I could not write you everything, and I longed to so much, but I knew you would not understand. As it was, I had to find a moment when my husband did not see me, for he——” “Your husband?” grasped Merry, thunderstruck. “Yes; he is so suspicious—so jealous and cruel!” “Great heavens! madam, are you married?” “I am. I was married when I was sixteen—to a man I hate! Oh, you cannot know the horror of being bound to a person you hate! It is dreadful!” Now, Merry was beginning to grow indignant. “And you, a married woman, are seeking a flirtation with a stranger—an actor? Madam, your folly is astonishing!” “Don’t—don’t speak to me like that!” she pleaded, tears seeming to spring to her eyes. “I am not seeking a flirtation! I am seeking to know my ideal. You—you are my ideal!” “It is the height of folly and rashness!” exclaimed Frank, severely. “Madam, if you have no thought for yourself, you should have some regard for me! Think of the position in which you are placing me!” “But if you care for me—if you love me——” “I do not!” Once more her hand fluttered up to her heart.