Villiers resumed his seat with a sigh, and seeing that it was quite useless to quarrel with Vandeloup, owing to that young man’s coolness, resolved to make the best of a bad job, and held out his hand with a view to reconciliation. ‘It’s no use fighting with you,’ he said, with an uneasy laugh, as the other took his hand, ‘you are so deuced amiable.’ ‘I am,’ replied Gaston, calmly examining his programme; ‘I practise all the Christian virtues.’ Here Barty, on whom the Frenchman’s appearance and conversation had produced an impression, requested Villiers, in a stage whisper, to introduce him--which was done. Vandeloup looked the young man coolly up and down, and eventually decided that Mr Barty Jarper was a ‘cad’, for whatever his morals might be, the Frenchman was a thorough gentleman. However, as he was always diplomatic, he did not give utterance to his idea, but taking a seat next to Barty’s, he talked glibly to him until the orchestra finished with a few final bangs, and the curtain drew up on Act III. The scene was the interior of a pawnshop, where the pawnbroker, a gentleman of Hebraic descent (Mr Buckstone Wopples), sells the cruet to the dishonest steward, who has come back from America disguised as a sailor. The decayed family all rush in to buy the cruet stand, but on finding it gone, overwhelm the pawnbroker with reproaches, so that to quiet them he hides them all over the shop, on the chance that the dishonest steward will come back. The dishonest steward does so, and having found the will tears it up on the stage, upon which he is assaulted by the decayed family, who rush out from all parts. Ultimately, he reveals himself and hands back the cruet stand and the estates to the decayed family, after which a general marrying all round took place, which proceeding was very gratifying to the boys in the gallery, who gave their opinions very freely, and the curtain fell amid thunders of applause. Altogether ‘The Cruet Stand’ was a success, and would have a steady run of three nights at least, so Mr Wopples said--and as a manager of long standing, he was thoroughly well up in the subject. Villiers, Vandeloup, and Barty went out and had a drink, and as none of them felt inclined to go to bed, Villiers told them he knew Mr Theodore Wopples, and proposed that they should go behind the scenes and see him. This was unanimously carried, and after some difficulty with the door-keeper--a crusty old man with a red face and white hair, that stood straight up in a tuft, and made him look like an infuriated cockatoo--they obtained access to the mysterious regions of the stage, and there found Master Sheridan Wopples practising a breakdown while waiting for the rest of the family to get ready. This charming youth, who was small, dried-up and wonderfully sharp, volunteered to guide them to his father’s dressing-room, and on knocking at the door Mr Wopples’ voice boomed out ‘Come in,’ in such an unexpected manner that it made them all jump.