But Mr. Bennet gave up all pretense of watching the performance after a little while and devoted his attention entirely to Arethusa, for he had never seen anyone before who so personified enjoyment. Her eyes, great, deep pools of darkness, were glued immovably to the scene before her. A soft flush came and went in her cheeks. She clutched the programme that had been given her at the door tightly in one hand. She had made no move to open it. She had no time to waste on programmes. Once, at a very exciting moment, when the villain was eavesdropping within a hand's distance of the handsome Earl of the piece, she grabbed Mr.

Bennet's arm and squeezed it painfully, almost totally unaware whose arm it was.

Then the curtain went down with a grand flourish to a long roll from the snare drum. It went up again, an encore to much applause, then down; then up and down swiftly several times. Arethusa clapped a great split right through the middle of her brand new gloves. The curtain descended once more, and this time.... It stayed. The lights in the theater flashed on.

It had seemed all too short a period of pleasure. Arethusa sighed as she rose and reached behind her for her Green Cloak.

"I wish," she said, regretfully, "I wish it had lasted longer!"

"Lasted longer!" exclaimed Mr. Bennet, "Why!..."

"Isn't it over?" she almost shrieked.

"Over! Good gracious, child! That was only the first act! I believe there are two more, before it's over."

"Two more! Oh! Goody!" Arethusa plumped herself down again with such solid decision to stay where she was, that had her seat not been strongly made, she might have gone clear through it. "But I saw men going out! And I thought of course that was all! It did seem awfully short, though!"

That there should be two whole more acts; such richness of prospect!

The curtain rose for the second act, and Arethusa's smile began to widen in glad antic.i.p.ation. Then it faded, and her expression changed to that of one rather bewildered. She looked all about her, but no one else seemed at all affected as she was herself. Everybody in the audience was gazing intently, and with pleasure, at the stage.

"What's the matter?" inquired Mr. Bennet.

Arethusa nodded towards the frolicking chorus girls who were just immediately back of the foot-lights, all with arms out-stretched to their responsive audience, singing vociferously of unintelligible words.

"It's.... It's the girls."

"Yes...."

"They.... They have on pa ... pajamas." She stumbled a little over the word.

"Yes...." encouraged Mr. Bennet once more.

"They must have been resting," replied Arethusa.

"Resting?"

"Pa ... pajamas are bedclothes," she explained, blushing just a bit.

"Yes, I know," said Mr. Bennet kindly, "but I don't just see...." He glanced back at the stage.

"I reckon they put them on to rest between the acts," continued Arethusa, "because they must have been tired, after dancing so hard, and the curtain must have gone up so quick they didn't have time to change. They must be awfully embarra.s.sed to come out before us like that. I think it's mean to laugh at them. I wouldn't laugh for anything myself."

The picture conjured up by this speech of Arethusa's, of the chorus girls changing wildly to pajamas and reclining after the arduous labors of the first act, tickled Mr. Bennet more than anything that had happened on the stage, even the best efforts of the expensive comedian.

And the effect upon him of the idea was the very same effect that the idea of moths and b.u.t.terflies as a Topic of Conversation for Parties had had upon Mr. Watts, when Arethusa had presented it to him at the dinner-dance.

Mr. Bennet laughed.

His laughter was much more refined and less boisterous than that of Mr.

William Watts, but Arethusa realized, nevertheless, that he was laughing at her. He was not laughing at the chorus girls who had been caught unawares by a rising curtain, in garments in which they had not intended that they should be seen; but he was laughing at her, Arethusa. Whatever it was she had said this time that was wrong, she had made herself ridiculous enough for the Wonderful Mr. Bennet to laugh at her!

Her throat filled suddenly with a perfectly solid lump. Something back of her eyes began to smart unbearably, and they filled also, filled quickly with tears that so blinded her that she could not see even her own shimmering lap. Her hands trembled unmanageably, until the programme dropped from their uncertain grasp, and she fumbled about to find that handkerchief which was so badly needed. She dabbed at her eyes with it, and winked back those tears as best she could, biting her lips fiercely to keep from sobbing outright. But there were so many tears and they came so fast that they brimmed clear over, and some fell, great shining drops, on the yellow chiffon of her dress. Her tiny handkerchief was all unavailing to quench this flow, and in a very short while it was only a small lump of wet. Her head drooped lower and lower.

It was absolute and overwhelming humiliation.

Mr. Bennet heard a queer little sound at his side, a little sound that she was quite unable to control, and he turned to see this weeping Arethusa.

"Why, my dear little girl!" he exclaimed, bending over. "What on earth!"

She managed to swallow a small portion of the lump that filled her throat. "You.... You laughed at me!" she said brokenly. "You laughed at me!"

So he had. But Mr. Bennet was very sure that this was not the time to acknowledge it.

He was genuinely distressed to see her cry, but his interest was more acute that something be done to stop it before too much attention was accorded them. Mr. Bennet disliked very much to be made at all conspicuous.

He slid one arm gently along the back of her seat. Arethusa was conscious of this movement through her unhappiness, and she could not help being thrilled at the thought of that Wonderful Arm being where it was. Mr. Bennet, however, knew very well just how far it might go. Miss Eliza herself thought no more of the proprieties than did Mr. Bennet.

Then he leaned protectingly close. Arethusa thrilled some more.

"Did you imagine for a moment that I was laughing at you!" And his rich drawling voice was so convincing that she believed him immediately.

"Indeed, I was not! There was something very funny just then that you missed. _Why_, I wouldn't laugh at _you_ for all the world!"

Arethusa smiled through her tears at him like a veritable bit of April.

"I didn't like to think you would. But.... But.... It seemed just exactly like you were!"

"You misjudged me dreadfully!"

And this time he sounded so reproachful that she was just as ashamed of herself for so misjudging him, as she had been humiliated the moment before because she had thought herself the object of his mirth.

"I ... I'm sorry," she faltered. Would Mr. Bennet ever be able to forgive such a misinterpretation of his charming laugh?

But Mr. Bennet was a truly magnanimous soul, and it seemed that he would.

So an atmosphere of enjoyment once more restored, Arethusa turned her attention back to the chorus ladies, who had in the meantime clothed themselves in garments belonging less to the hours of rest and more to those of activity, and responded to their antics to amuse as she had before that most unfortunate episode.

She sighed a gusty sigh of real forlornness when the curtain had descended in such a way that it could not possibly be construed by even inexperienced theatergoers to mean anything but that it was all over.

"It doesn't last near long enough, not near!" she said, regretfully, as she was being helped into the Green Cloak.

Mr. Bennet produced his watch. "I don't know just how long you expected it to last," he replied, "but right this moment it happens to be ten minutes past eleven; which means that we have been here almost three hours!"

Arethusa regarded him open-eyed and open-mouthed.

"_Honest!_"

"Honest."

"Why, it hasn't seemed like any time at all!"