This ejaculation was caused by the sudden appearance of Jeremiah Pamflett. He had been in the theatre, in the pit, and had been all the night watching the private box occupied by the Lethbridge party. He had taken note of Fred Cornwall's attentions to Phoebe and of the young girl's blushes, and he had formed his conclusions. Once during the evening he had endeavoured to make his way to the private box; but as he had only a pit check to show, he was peremptorily sent back. His humour was malicious and sour, but some crumbs of comfort fell to his share through the failure of _A Heart of Gold_. Upon the success of the piece depended, he knew, the payment of the bill for three hundred pounds which Mr. Lethbridge had signed, and the prospect of selling up Phoebe's uncle, or of showing him mercy at Phoebe's intercession, was very gratifying to him. He felt that it strengthened his chances with the girl he intended should be his wife. "I will have her," he thought, "whether she likes it or not. Miser Farebrother is bound to me, and there shall be no backing out. He can't back out: I've got his signature to his written promise, and Mr. Lawyer may go to the devil. I'll wring his heart! I'll wring all their hearts!" To such a nature as Jeremiah's this was an agreeable contemplation, and he revelled in it, setting every tender glance that passed between Phoebe and Fred in the private box to the account which at no distant time he should commence to square up. It was a delight to him that _A Heart of Gold_ had failed. He yelled in derision at the top of his voice when the curtain fell, and patted the breast of his coat exultantly, in the pocket of which Mr. Lethbridge's acceptance was safely deposited. It was as good as a love-token to him; it gave him assurance of success in his wooing. When the dramatic author finished his speech and had left the stage, Jeremiah tried to push through the mob in the pit; but, in his eagerness, it was his misfortune to hustle rather roughly a peppery individual, who straightway pitched into him. A row ensued, and a fight, which left Jeremiah with a black eye and clothes much disordered. This had delayed his progress considerably, and his confusion of mind did not help him. All this, of course, went down on the account between him and Phoebe and her friends, and was debited against them. Clear of the theatre he had hunted for them in every direction but the right one, and it was only when they were getting into the cabs that he discovered them. "Oh dear!" exclaimed Fanny.