It was on the evening of the 30th day of December that Harry was at a party given in honor of Mrs. Slocum’s friend. At first sight of her he was captivated; she was the belle of the season, they told him, and he did not doubt it. In every movement there was a charming grace, and the mellowest pair of blue eyes seemed to laugh at him all the time. Her words seemed like music to Harry’s ears, with that rich, Italian accent which only a woman of great accomplishments possesses. When he departed that evening, it was with the greatest reluctance that he left her side. And as he put on his coat and went out into the cold night, his mind still wandered back to a pair of blue eyes. In every window he seemed to see that pair of blue eyes watching him. What was the trouble? He, a confirmed bachelor, being so agitated by a pretty face and a pair of blue eyes. Finally he reached his home, and now he was trying to forget the happenings of the evening. But those eyes still pursued him in his sleep. Upon awakening, he knew that it was all a dream; yet not all, for those eyes were a reality. “Harry,” said his father, “when you are in the city to-day I wish you would call on my old friend, Tom Harris, and give him my best wishes for his success. To-night is New Year’s eve, and he is to open his new theatre, ‘The Grand Royal,’ and his daughter, who has lately returned from abroad, is to be the leading actress.” Of course Harry would be only too glad to call on his father’s old friend; and the first place he went, on his arrival in the city, was to the private office of “The Grand Royal.” “Henry St. Albans’ son? Oh! yes, but you will excuse me for a moment. I have some urgent business with my leading actor. Please step into the office for a moment,” replied Manager Harris, when Harry introduced himself. [Illustration: Man leaning on arm] The door was left ajar, and he could not very well help hearing the conversation. It seems that Oscar Redmond, who was one of the most promising actors of the day, had the failing of a great many actors, and would drink occasionally, yet seldom get intoxicated. That morning, however, he had been out with some of the boys, and as all wished to drink to his success, he had indulged rather too freely, and in such a condition he had come to the manager of “The Grand Royal” and demanded an exorbitant salary, above the amount specified in the contract. Mr. Harris refused, saying that he would rather close his theatre than submit to such an outrage, and Redmond left, declaring that he would not appear that night. “Harry,” began the manager as he returned, “did you”—“Yes, I heard every word, Mr. Harris; but perhaps I can aid you in some way.” “You?” “Yes, years ago when I was at college I was considered a good impersonator and quick to learn my part,” said Harry, “and if you have no objection I will learn the lines this morning and rehearse with the company in the afternoon.”