of the dying-out of the old British tradition that had brought him to-night. He was with a friend, a lady who had lived much abroad, who had never seen anything of the kind, and who liked everything that was characteristic. 'You know the foreign school of acting is a very different affair,' he said again to Millicent, who this time replied, 'Oh yes, of course,' and considering afresh the old lady in the box, reflected that she looked as if there were nothing in the world that she, at least, hadn't seen.
'We have never been abroad,' said Hyacinth, candidly, looking into his friend's curious light-coloured eyes, the palest in tint he had ever encountered.
'Oh, well, there's a lot of nonsense talked about that!' Captain Sholto replied; while Hyacinth remained uncertain as to exactly what he referred to, and Millicent decided to volunteer a remark.
'They are making a tremendous row on the stage. I should think it would be very bad in those boxes.' There was a banging and thumping behind the curtain, the sound of heavy scenery pushed about.
'Oh yes; it's much better here, every way. I think you have the best seats in the house,' said Captain Sholto. 'I should like very much to finish my evening beside you. The trouble is I have ladies—a pair of them,' he went on, as if he were seriously considering this possibility. Then, laying his hand again on Hyacinth's shoulder, he smiled at him a moment and indulged in a still greater burst of frankness. 'My dear fellow, that is just what, as a partial reason, has brought me up here to see you. One of my ladies has a great desire to make your acquaintance!'
'To make my acquaintance?' Hyacinth felt himself
