The great second act was on. Things were not going as smoothly as they appeared to from the front. Even the inexperienced Hampstead, as he waited for his cue, could see that his angel was being enormously vexed by the manner in which Vinicius made love. Henry Lester was a brilliant actor, but flighty and erratic. During rehearsal Mowrey had much trouble in getting him to memorize accurately the business of his part. He would do one thing one way to-day and forget it or reverse it on the next. To-night Lester was committing all these histrionic crimes. Miss Dounay had continually to adapt herself to his impulsive erraticisms, to shift speeches and alter business. The climax of exasperation came when one of the wide metal circlets upon his arm became entangled in the gossamer threads of Lygia’s hair and pulled it painfully. Yet the actress was sufficiently accomplished to play her own part irreproachably and deliver John’s cue at the right moment to secure the startling entrance already described, and thus to be gracefully and dramatically swept away from the rude advances of her importunate lover. It was at the end of this particular scene and off stage, when the curtain was descending to the accompaniment of applause from the audience, that the death of John’s illusion came. For a delicious instant, he was still holding Lygia from the floor as if instinctively sheltering her amidst the general confusion of crowding actors and hurrying stage hands. Nothing loth, she lay at rest, with eyes closed and features composed as if in the faint. To the raw, impressionable young man, Marien had never looked so much an angel as at this moment; and now she was coming to, as if still in character. Her eyelids fluttered but did not open, and then her lips moved slightly, stiffly, under their load of greasy carmine, as if she would speak. In self-forgetful ecstasy, Hampstead bent eagerly to receive the confidence. Perhaps she was going to thank him, to whisper a word of congratulation. Whatever the communication might be, his soul was in raptures of delightful anticipation as he felt her breath upon his cheek. The communication was made promptly and unhesitatingly, after which Miss Dounay alertly swung her feet to the floor and walked out upon the stage to receive her curtain call, leading Ursus by the hand, mentally dazed, inwardly wabbling, outwardly bowing,—trying, in fact, to do just as the others did. But in John’s mind now there was this numbing sense of shock, for he could not refuse to believe his ears, and what this angelic vision had breathed into them in tones of cool, emphatic conviction, was: "What a damn fool that man Lester is!"