“Come, come!” cried the actress, clapping her hands, and perfectly unheeding his displeasure--“why don’t you help me off with my cloak?--why don’t you set me a chair?--why don’t you take this great box out of my way?--why don’t you----Heaven help me!” and she stamped her little foot quite seriously on the floor. “A pretty person for a lover you are!” “Oho! then I am a lover, you acknowledge?” “Nonsense!--get a chair next me at supper.” The young Godolphin was perfectly fascinated by the lively actress; and it was with no small interest that he stationed himself the following night in the stage-box of the little theatre at ----, to see how his Fanny acted. The house was tolerably well filled, and the play was _She Stoops to Conquer_. The male parts were, on the whole, respectably managed; though Percy was somewhat surprised to observe that a man, who had joined the corps that morning, blessed with the most solemn countenance in the world--a fine Roman nose, and a forehead like a sage’s--was now dressed in nankeen tights, and a coat without skirts, splitting the sides of the gallery in the part of Tony Lumpkin. But into the heroine, Fanny Millinger threw a grace, a sweetness, a simple, yet dignified spirit of trite love that at once charmed and astonished all present. The applause was unbounded; and Percy Godolphin felt proud of himself for having admired one whom every one else seemed also resolved upon admiring. When the comedy was finished, he went behind the scenes, and for the first time felt the rank which intellect bestows. This idle girl, with whom he had before been so familiar; who had seemed to him, boy as he was, only made for jesting and coquetry, and trifling, he now felt to be raised to a sudden eminence that startled and abashed him. He became shy and awkward, and stood at a distance stealing a glance towards her, but without the courage to approach and compliment her. The quick eye of the actress detected the effect she had produced. She was naturally pleased at it, and coming up to Godolphin, she touched his shoulder, and with a smile rendered still more brilliant by the rouge yet unwashed from the dimpled cheeks, said--“Well, most awkward swain? no flattery ready for me? Go to! you won’t suit me: get yourself another empress.” “You have pleased me into respecting you,” said Godolphin. There was a delicacy in the expression that was very characteristic of the real mind of the speaker, though that mind was not yet developed; and the pretty actress was touched by it at the moment, though, despite the grace of her acting, she was by nature far too volatile to think it at all advantageous to be _respected_ in the long run. She did not act in the afterpiece, and Godolphin escorted her home to the inn.