"Now, we'll have some dinner, and then we'll be off," he said. "Lady Helen Dalrymple will admire you to-night, Heather, and I want her to." Who was Lady Helen Dalrymple? CHAPTER V It certainly was a wonderful night. Lady Helen Dalrymple had placed her box at the theatre at our disposal. She was a tall and slender woman, dressed in the extreme height of a fashion which I had never even dreamed about. Her cheeks had a wonderful colour in them, which was at once soft and vivid. Her lips were red and her eyes exceedingly dark. She greeted me with great _empressement_; her voice was high-pitched, and I cannot say that it impressed me agreeably. "Welcome, welcome, my dear Heather," she said, and then she invited me to seat myself on the front chair near her own, whereas father sat behind at the back of the box. The play began, and to me it was a peep into fairy land. I had never seen a play before, but, of course, I had read about plays and great actors and actresses, and this one--_As You Like It_--took my breath away. I could scarcely restrain my rapture as the different scenes flitted before my eyes, and as the characters--all real to me--fitted their respective parts. But in the midst of my delight Lady Helen bent towards me and said: "Don't the footlights dazzle your eyes a little, child? Would you not prefer to take this chair and let your father come to the front of the box?" Now, my eyes were quite strong, and the footlights did not dazzle them in the very least, but I slipped back into the other seat, and, after that, if the truth must be known, I only got little glimpses of the play from time to time. Lady Helen and father, instead of being in raptures over the performance, kept up a running fire of whispered talk together, not one word of which could I catch, nor, indeed, did I want to--so absorbingly anxious was I to follow the story of Rosalind in the Forest of Arden. When at last the performance was over, father suggested that we should all go to the Savoy Hotel for supper, where, accordingly, we went. But once again, although there was a very nice table reserved for us, father and Lady Helen did all the talking, and I was left in the cold. I looked around me, and for the first time had a distinct sense of home-sickness for the very quiet little house I had left. By this time Aunt Penelope would be sound asleep in bed, and Buttons would have gone to his rest in the attic, and the parrot would have ceased to say "Stop knocking at the door!" I was not accustomed to be up so late, and I suddenly found myself yawning. Lady Helen fixed her bright eyes on my face. "Tired, Heather?" she asked. I had an instinctive sort of feeling that she ought not to call me Heather, and started back a little when she spoke. "Oh, you need not be shocked, Heather," said my father. "Lady Helen is such a very great friend of mine that you ought to be only too proud when she addresses you by your Christian name."