There was a little laugh, a hiss or two rebuked the disorder; then the baton signalled the orchestra, and the music recommenced, smoothly and in perfect time; the conductor had never turned his head. The curtain went up; the incident was closed. I drew a long, sighing breath of relief as one, then another, then all together, as if by a single impulse, the people sat down in their places. It had been but an instant. The painted stage, the glittering court ladies, Isabella on her throne, the suppliant Colombo, were as if nothing had happened. "First-rate orchestra," muttered Robert Van Dam. The General turned in her chair and looked at me. She did not speak, but I could see that she was excited; it seems to me now that her eyes were very bright, and that her strong, square-chinned face looked curiously satisfied. "Let's go," I gasped; "I want to go home." Choking with sobs, though not unhappy, I felt as if I wished to run, to fly; but, as I tottered out of the box, I could scarcely stand. Mr. Van Dam helped me, the General and Milly following. In the corridor we were joined by Peggy and the florid young man whom I had seen with her. "Why--why, you're not going? You are not going?" Peggy cried. She breathed quickly, and her teeth and eyes alike seemed to twinkle. "Can--can't Mr. Bellmer or I--do something?" "Nothing at all," said the General in brisk staccato, fastening my wraps with an air of proprietorship; "nobody's in voice to-night, do you think? Miss Winship doesn't care to stay." Before we reached the lobby, John came from somewhere, hurrying towards us. I was walking between Mr. Bellmer and Robert Van Dam, but with scarcely a look at them he tucked my hand under his arm, just as he would have done in the old days at the State University. At the door Mr. Van Dam looked for a cab. "I'll take her home," said John grimly. "I'll go with you; I must see her safe with Mrs. Baker," the General replied, understanding at once. "Mr. Bellmer, tell Mother, please, that Bob and I have gone with Miss Winship. Or--Bob, you won't be needed; you explain to Mother." The two men hurried away upon their errand, though I fancied they went reluctantly. Peggy had not come down. All the way home John's brows were black, and he looked straight ahead of him. As we passed under the glow of electric lamps, Milly smiled bravely at me across the carriage, respect and awe mingling with her sympathy. The General sat at my side erect; her eyes glittered, and she looked oddly pleased--not like a woman who had been at the focus of a scene, and had been dragged away from the Opera before it was over, but like a General indeed, planning great campaigns. As for me, I felt that I must laugh--cry. Did ever such a ridiculous thing, such a wonderful, glorious thing, such a perfectly awful thing, happen to any other girl that ever lived?