The earl had led her behind the scenes, and the minister had twice addressed him ere Mr. Laurance recovered himself sufficiently to perceive that his companions were smiling at his complete absorption. "Why--Cuthbert--wake up. You look like some one walking open-eyed in sleep. Has Madame's beauty dazed you as utterly as poor Count T----?" His wife pinched his arm, but without heeding her he looked quite past her into the laughing eyes of the minister, and asked: "Do you know her? Is her husband living?" "I shall call by appointment to-morrow, but this is the first time I have seen her. Of her history I know nothing, but rumour pronounces her a widow." "Which generally means that these pretty actresses have drunken, worthless husbands, paid comfortable salaries to shut their eyes and keep out of the way," added Mrs. Laurance, lengthening the range of her opera glass, and levelling it at a group where the shimmer of jewels attracted her attention. How the words grated on her husband's ear, grown strangely sensitive within an hour? Carelessly glancing over the sea of faces beneath and around him, the minister continued: "English critics contend that Madame Orme's 'Amy Robsart' is so far from being Scott's ideal creation, that he would fail to recognize it were he alive; still where she alters the text, and intensifies the type, they admit that the dramatic effect is heightened. She appears to have concentrated all her talent upon the passionate impersonation of one peculiar phrase of feminine suffering and endurance--that of the outraged and neglected wife; and her favourite _roles_ are 'Katherine' from Henry VIII., 'Hermione,' and 'Medea,' though she is said to excel in 'Deborah.' My brother who saw her last night as 'Medea' pronounced her fully equal to Rachel, and said that in that scene where she attempted to remove her children from the side of the new wife, the despairing fury of her eyes literally raised the few thin hairs that still faithfully cling to the top of his head. Ah--the parting with Leicester--how marvellously beautiful is she!" Leaning against a dressing-table loaded with toilet trifles and _bijouterie_, Amy stood, arrayed in the costume which displayed to greatest advantage the perfect symmetry of form and the dazzling purity of her complexion.