I had no thought that Mr. Hynes was in the house, but, amusing myself with the idea, I lifted my glass—dear little pearl trinket with which the General had provided me—and looked for him, wondering how often a poor young lawyer attends the Opera. Of course I couldn't see anybody I knew, nor could I read my libretto, for the words danced before my eyes; and Mrs. Van Dam, smiling at my interest, began chattering about the people around us, speaking as if I would soon be as familiar with the brilliant world of fashion and society as herself.
"I wonder," she said in her energetic way, "what it feels like to be at one's first opera."
Excitement was flashing from my eyes and burning on my cheeks as I answered:—
"It's—it's—oh, I can't tell you! But in the West," I added hastily, "we had oratorio."
"What a buttercup you are!" she said again.
Soon the curtain rose upon the second act—or scene. Whichever it was, that was all that I was fated to see or hear of the Opera. And for the little while I could consider it, I must say I was disappointed. The scenery was superb, but the voices—
"You've spoiled us, Nelly," Milly whispered.
"Colombo's not bad."
I squeezed her hand ecstatically.
I find that I don't criticise men so shrewdly; but oh, the thin, shrill pipe of Isabella, compared with what a woman's voice may be! Yet I admired her skill, and did not wonder that the house applauded.