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Jones, who had not accorded the slightest attention to Maule, was discoursing in an animated fashion with Miss Bolten. On the stage in a canvas forest a man stood, open-mouthed, raising and lowering his right arm at regular intervals; and next to her Eden caught the motion of Mrs. Manhattan's fan. "No," she heard Jones say, "I have every reason to doubt that Shakspere was the author of Hamlet.
April 22. i went out today. it was real warm. i dident go to church becaus i had been sick. i let my rooster out to fite J. Albert Clark's. they were fiting good when i looked up and there was father looking over the fence. he made me stop the fite and shet my rooster up. i wonder if he wood have stoped them if i hadent been there. i got 2 eggs today, the old brama that i swaped for with Ed Tole and a bolten gray that John Adams give me.
Then with an amiable commonplace the old beau bowed and moved back. Maule bowed also, and presently, taking advantage of a recitative, he left Mrs. Manhattan and entered Eden's box. He seemed at home at once. He shook Mr. Usselex by the hand, saluted Miss Bolten and her mother, ignored Jones, and dislodging Arnswald, took his seat. "The season promises well," he whispered confidentially to Eden.
Presently it was invaded by other visitors of whom no particular mention is necessary. At last there was a wail and final crash in the orchestra. The opera was done. On the way home Usselex questioned his wife. "Who is that man Maule?" he asked. "Miss Bolten is interested in him, I believe." "I hope not," Usselex returned; "he has a bad face."
Arnswald dropped in the seat which he had vacated. It was evident at once that he and Miss Bolten had met before. He had leaned forward, and was whispering in her ear. "Eden," Maule began, "do you remember that ring you gave me?" "Mr. Maule, you forget many things " "Why do you call me Mr. Maule? there was a time " "Yes, there was a time, as you say; but that time is no longer."
"I told you once that I thought Miss Bolten was interested in him. Let me tell you now he is in love with me." "Eden, Eden " her father murmured, reprovingly. Into Usselex' face came an expression that a demon might have envied. For a second he fronted Maule, his hand clenched. Then the fingers loosened again.
In the first place " "Ah!" murmured Miss Bolten. She did not appear particularly interested in Jones or in the man on the stage. She was occupied in scrutinizing the occupants of the different boxes. "And whom do you suspect?" she asked, her eyes foraging an opposite baignoire. "Another man with the same name," Jones answered, and laughed a little to himself. Eden tapped him on the sleeve. "Mr.
A Miss Bolten and her mother whom she had invited had already arrived, and Arnswald, she noticed, went immediately forward to salute them; then returning, he assisted her with her wrap. In a moment the vestibule was invaded by Jones; and Eden, after a word or two to her guests, settled herself in the front of the box and promenaded her opera-glass about the house.
On the stage the tenor in green and gold was still gesticulating, open-mouthed as before, and presently there came a blare of trumpets, a shudder of brass, dominated by the cry of violins, and abruptly the curtain fell. Arnswald advanced with the cloak, and Jones stood up. The latter said some parting word to Miss Bolten and to her mother, bent over Eden's hand and left the box.
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