"Yes, madam, Iwillgo, but--but----" Livingston Palmer stared around wildly. He wanted to add, "I can prove what I have to say," but the words became mixed as before. "Icansay--whatIcanprove--I mean, I provetosay what I can--I can say what Icansay----" "Then go and say it!" yelled somebody from the gallery. "Say it, and give somebody else a chance to talk." "Say, but this is a bum company," added somebody else. "Worst I ever saw!" came from a third party. And then followed a storm of hisses. In the midst of this Palmer hurried from the stage. At once Dixon collared him. "Palmer, what do you mean by this?" demanded the manager. "Have you lost your wits?" "No, but--but--it's awful to have so many folks staring at you, and cat-calling, too." "You spoiled both acts." "I did my best," pleaded Livingston Palmer. "Then you'll never make an actor if you live to be a hundred years," responded Jack Dixon, and with this cold cut he walked off, leaving Palmer the picture of misery and despair. But the scene was not yet ended, and scarcely had Dixon turned away when there came another roar and a hiss. The unfortunate captain had fallen down with his sword between his feet. In trying to pick himself up he had upset a small table, scattering the books thereon in every direction. His wig came off, and when he managed to gain his feet once more it was found that his coat was split up the back for a foot and over. "They are a disgrace to the opera house!" came the cry. "They are no good!" "Let us give 'em something to remember us by!" The last suggestion was greeted with a wild assent, and soon half a dozen different articles landed on the stage, including the core of an apple and a half-decayed orange. In the midst of the uproar a number of the audience started to leave and the drop curtain came down with a bang. CHAPTER XXIV. PALMER CALLS UPON ROBERT'S MOTHER. Among the first to leave the opera house were Mrs. Talbot and her husband. "I have had quite enough of this," said the lady to James Talbot. "The company and the play are both very poor." "Perhaps you are right," he admitted. "I must say I looked for something much better myself. That poor butler couldn't act at all." "He was dumstruck," said Mrs. Talbot, and felt compelled to laugh. "Poor fellow, he ought to go at some other line of work." They were soon on the way home. Mr. Talbot had ordered a carriage to come for them when the performance was over, but this was not at hand, so they were forced to walk. "I didn't make much by taking her out to-night," said the schemer to himself. "Next time I'll have to make sure that I am taking her to something that is really first-class." When the pair reached home James Talbot wished his wife to come into the sitting-room, to talk over their business affairs. The fact of the matter was, he was running short of money, and he desired his wife to make him an advance.