A bell sounded; John Steele, excusing himself, entered the auditorium and was shown to his seat.  It proved excellently located, and, looking around, he found himself afforded a comprehensive view of a spectacle brilliant and dazzling.  Boxes shone with brave hues; gems gleamed over-plentifully; here and there, accentuating the picture, the gorgeous colors of some eastern prince stood out like the brighter bits in a kaleidoscope.  Steele’s glance swept over royalty, rank and condition.  It took in persons who were more than persons—­personages; it passed over the impassive face of a dark ameer who looked as if he might have stepped from one of the pages of The Arabian Nights, and lingered on a box a little farther to one side.  Here were seated Sir Charles and his wife and party; and among them he could discern the features of Jocelyn Wray—­not plainly, she was so far away!  Only her golden hair appeared distinct amid many tints.

The curtain went up at last; the music began; melodies that seemed born in the springtime succeeded one another.  Perennial in freshness, theme followed theme; what joy, what gladness; what merriment, what madness!  John Steele, in the main, kept his attention directed toward the stage; once or twice he glanced quickly aside and upward; now in the dimness, however, the people in the boxes conveyed only a vague shadowy impression.  How long was the act; how short?  It came to a sudden end; after applause and bravos, men again got up and walked out; he, too, left his seat and strolled toward the back.

“Mr. Steele!  One moment!” He found himself once more addressed by the good-humored Captain Forsythe.  “Behold in me a Mercury, committed to an imperative mission.  You are commanded to appear—­not in the royal box—­but in Sir Charles’.”

“Sir Charles Wray’s?” John Steele regarded the speaker quickly.

“Yes,” laughed the other.  “You see I happened to mention I had seen you.  ‘Why didn’t you bring him with you to the box?’ queried Sir Charles.  He, by the by, went in for law himself, before he became governor.  ’Only had time to shake hands this morning!’ ‘Yes, why didn’t you?’ spoke up Miss Jocelyn.  ‘You command me to bring him?’ I inquired.  ‘By all means!’ she laughed, ‘I command.’  So here I am.”

John Steele did not answer, but Captain Forsythe, without waiting for a reply, turned and started up the broad stairway.  The other, after a moment’s hesitation, followed, duly entered one of the larger boxes, spoke to Sir Charles and his wife and returned the bow of their niece.  Amid varied platitudes Steele’s glance turned oftenest to the girl.  She was dressed in white; a snowy boa drooped from the slender bare shoulders as if it might any moment slip off; a string of pearls, each one with a pearl of pure light in the center, clasped her throat.  In her eyes the brightness seemed to sing of dancing cadenzas; her lips, slightly parted, wore the faint suggestion of a smile, as if some canticle or clear cadence had just trembled from them.  The small shoe that peeped from beneath silken folds tapped softly to rhythms yet lingering; on her cheeks two small roses unfolded their glad petals.