"You see, it is a simple ceremony, Nina," he said, as he put the little goblet on the table again. "But at the same time it is very confidential. I mean, you wouldn't ask everybody to go through it with you--it would hardly, for example, be quite circumspect for you to ask any young man you didn't know very well--" "Leo!" The sound of her voice startled him; there were tears of indignation in it; he looked up and found she had grown suddenly pale. "You," she said, with quivering lips, "you and I, Leo--we have drunk together out of these--and you think I allow any one else--any one living in the world--to drink out of them after that?--I would rather have them dashed to pieces and thrown into the sea!" Her vehemence surprised him--and might have set any other person thinking; but he was used to Nina's proud and wayward moods; so he merely went on to tell her that there was nothing, after all, so very solemn in the ceremony of drinking from a loving-cup; and then he asked her whether she ought not to call Miss Girond, for it was about time they were going down to the theatre. Of course the forthcoming dinner that Mr. Lehmann was about to give at the Star and Garter created quite a stir behind the scenes, where the routine of life is much more monotonous than the people imagine who sit in the stalls and regard the antics of the merry folk on the stage. There were all kinds of rumors and speculations as to who was going with whom, as to the number and quality of the visitors, and as to the possibility of the manager presenting each of his lady-guests with a little souvenir in honor of the occasion. So when Lionel was summoned to Miss Burgoyne's room one evening, he was not surprised to find her begin to talk of the following Sunday. "Will you make yourself some tea, Mr. Moore?" she said, from the inner room. "There's some cake on the top of the piano. Then you can bring a chair to the curtain, and I'll talk to you--for I'm not quite finished yet." He drew a chair to the little opening in the curtain, where he could hear what she had to say, and answer, without any indiscreet prying. "I am at your service, Miss Grace," said he, lightly. "How are you going down to Richmond on Sunday?" she asked at once. "By train, I suppose." There was a moment's silence--perhaps she was waiting for him to ask a similar question. "Lord Denysfort is going to drive down," said the voice in the inner room. "Lord Denysfort!" he said, contemptuously. "What she is the attraction now? I don't like that kind of thing; it gets the theatre a bad name. If I were Lehmann, I wouldn't have a single stranger allowed in the wings."