On the morrow, in the evening, Lord Warburton went again to see his friends at their hotel, andat this establishment he learned that they had gone to the opera.

He drove to the opera with the ideaof paying them a visit in their box after the easy Italian fashion; and when he had obtained hisadmittance-it was one of the secondary theatres-looked about the large, bare, ill-lighted house.An act had just terminated and he was at liberty to pursue his quest.

After scanning two or threetiers of boxes he perceived in one of the largest of these receptacles a lady whom he easilyrecognised.

Miss Archer was seated facing the stage and partly screened by the curtain of the box;and beside her, leaning back in his chair, was Mr. Gilbert Osmond. They appeared to have the placeto themselves, and Warburton supposed their companions had taken advantage of the recess toenjoy the relative coolness of the lobby.

He stood a while with his eyes on the interesting pair; heasked himself if he should go up and interrupt the harmony.

At last he judged that Isabel had seenhim, and this accident determined him.

There should be no marked holding off. He took his way tothe upper regions and on the staircase met Ralph Touchett slowly descending, his hat at theinclination of ennui and his hands where they usually were."I saw you below a moment since and was going down to you.

I feel lonely and want company,"was Ralph's greeting."You've some that's very good which you've yet deserted.""Do you mean my cousin?

Oh, she has a visitor and doesn't want me. Then Miss Stackpole andBantling have gone out to a cafe to eat an ice-Miss Stackpole delights in an ice.

I didn't think theywanted me either. The opera's very bad; the women look like laundresses and sing like peacocks.

Ifeel very low.""You had better go home," Lord Warburton said without affectation."And leave my young lady in this sad place?

Ah no, I must watch over her.""She seems to have plenty of friends.""Yes, that's why I must watch," said Ralph with the same large mock-melancholy."If she doesn't want you it's probable she doesn't want me.""No, you're different.

Go to the box and stay there while I walk about."Lord Warburton went to the box, where Isabel's welcome was as to a friend so honourably oldthat he vaguely asked himself what queer temporal province she was annexing.

He exchangedgreetings with Mr. Osmond, to whom he had been introduced the day before and who, after hecame in, sat blandly apart and silent, as if repudiating competence in the subjects of allusion nowprobable.

It struck her second visitor that Miss Archer had, in operatic conditions, a radiance, even aslight exaltation; as she was, however, at all times a keenly-glancing, quickly-moving, completelyanimated young woman, he may have been mistaken on this point.

Her talk with him moreoverpointed to presence of mind; it expressed a kindness so ingenious and deliberate as to indicate thatshe was in undisturbed possession of her faculties.

Poor Lord Warburton had moments ofbewilderment.