Then Leslie, perceiving his opportunity, interpolated a few words appropriate to the occasion. Pointing to the discomfited Otto, he said, "Heed not that vulgar groundling, who would step in between us and our happiness. Let him return in shame and failure to his butcher shop in Brooklyn, nor dare profane thy presence, sweet Pauline." Otto felt that this was addressed to him, and he called out in a passion: "Don't you call me names, you New York dude!" Here a policeman appeared, and hurried the unfortunate man from the hall, and the play proceeded to the close. At the end Claude and Pauline were called before the curtain by the excited audience. The applause was terrific. Then there was a cry of "Speech! speech!" Nothing could have suited Leslie better. "My generous friends," he said, "this is the proudest moment of my life. I don't feel that I have merited your applause, but I accept it for the fair Pauline. If my poor efforts have pleased you I am more than satisfied. I did not anticipate the unpleasant interruption which marred our closing scene, but Miss Strassburger and myself were sustained by the thought that you were with us. Trusting to meet you again ere long, I bid you good-night." There was another chorus of cheers. Leslie led Ida out at the wings, and the audience left the hall. "What did you think of it, Rupert?" asked Leslie proudly, as he joined his fellow bell-boy in the street. "I give you credit for getting out of a tight place so neatly." "I was too much for the butcher boy, eh, Rupert?" "You certainly were," said Rupert, laughing. "I hope Ida will forgive him." "I think she will after a while, as long as he didn't spoil the play. The audience were very enthusiastic." "Yes, more so probably on account of Otto's ill-timed interruption." "So I think. It was a splendid ovation. Oh, Rupert, it was delicious. It was, as I said, the proudest moment of my life. I wonder if there will he anything in the papers about it." "I think it quite likely." "You didn't see anything of Daly or Palmer in the hall, did you?" "I don't know the gentlemen by sight." "I wish they had been there. I think they would have appreciated my triumph over the young butcher from Brooklyn." "Perhaps they would," said Rupert, dubiously. The next evening Leslie read the following notice in the _Evening News_: