Yes, Laurence Alsager was as thoroughly disgusted as he looked, and that was saving much; for he had the power of throwing great savageness of expression into his bright eyes and thin lips. Here had a sudden home-sickness, an indescribable longing, come upon him, and he had hurried back after two years' absence; and now within half-a-dozen hours of his arrival he had sickened at the change. He hated the theatre, and the grinning fools who laughed at the immodest rubbish, and the grinning fools who uttered it; he hated the conventionality of dress and living; he could not stand going in with a regular ruck of people again, and having to conform to all their ways. He would cut it at once; go down to Knockholt to-morrow, and stay a couple of days with Sir Peregrine just to see the old governor, and then be off again to South America, to do prairies and bisons and that sort of thing. As he made this resolution, the curtain fell amidst a storm of applause, and rose again to show the actors in a row, bowing delightedly with their hands on their waistcoats; Spofforth "bowed his acknowledgments from a private box," and kissed his hand to Alsager, who returned the salute with a very curt nod, then rose and left the theatre. In the lobby he met the Mitford party, and was quietly slipping by when Sir Charles, after whispering to Bertram, touched his shoulder, saying, "Colonel Alsager, let me renew our old acquaintance." There was no escape from this big man's cheery manner and outstretched hand, so Laurence, after an instant's admirably-feigned forgetfulness, returned the grasp, saying, "Ah, Mitford, I think? of Brasenose in the old days?" "Yes, yes, to be sure! All sorts of things happened since then, you know." "O yes, of course; though I've only been in England six hours, I've heard of your luck and the baronetcy. George Bertram here is such a terrific talker, he couldn't rest until he had told me all the news." This set Sir Charles Mitford off into one of his great roars again, at the finish of which he said, "Let me introduce you to my wife; she's just here with Bertram.--Here, Georgie darling, this is Colonel Alsager, an old acquaintance of mine." Of any one else Mitford would have said "an old friend;" but as he spoke he glanced at Laurence's stern, grave expression, and changed the word. Perhaps the same feeling influenced Lady Mitford, as her bow was constrained, and her spirits, already depressed by the performance, were by no means raised by the introduction to this sombre stranger. Sir Charles tried to rally. "Hope we shall see something of you, Alsager, now you're back. You'll find us in Eaton Place, and--" "You're very good; but I shall leave town to-morrow, and probably England next week." Probably no man had ever been more astonished than was George Bertram as he stood by and heard this; but, true to his creed, he said never a word.