It must be the Scotch governess. Mrs. Mavick had her eyes
everywhere about the house, and was graciously bowing to her friends.
Mr. Mavick coolly and unsympathetically regarded the house, quite
conscious of it, but as if he were a little bored. You could not see him
without being aware that he was thinking of other things, probably of
far-reaching schemes. People always used to say of Mavick, when he was
young and a clerk in a Washington bureau, that he looked omniscient. At
least the imagination of spectators invested him with a golden hue, and
regarded him through the roseate atmosphere that surrounds a
many-millioned man. The girl had her eyes always on the orchestra, and
was waiting for the opening of the world that lay behind the
drop-curtain. Philip noticed that all the evening Mrs. Mavick paid very
little attention to the stage, except when the rest of the house was so
dark that she could distinguish little in it.
Fortunately for Philip, in his character of country reporter, the Mavick
box was near the stage, and he could very well see what was going on in
it, without wholly distracting his attention from Wagner's sometimes very
dimly illuminated creation.
There are faces and figures that compel universal attention and
admiration.
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