Ono night 1 strolled into the Hnymarket Theatre, took a stall ticket, and soon com furlably settled injvelf to enjoy tho play. By the time the third act camel was dcoplv interested,and my gazo and wholo attention wore rivetted on the stago. I would not) for the world have willingly moved an oyo lid, and thereby lost one look or action, yot after a few minutes I bccamo vaguely con. scions of a curious sensation of disquietude. My eyes, too, felt strangdy drawn-dead against my will-to turn their gaze away from the stage. I struggled against litis Strange feeling; I tried t 0 still stare before me, to coneontrato my mental forces on tho play—but in vain. It was as if somo power stronger tenfold than myself compelled mo to turn from the stage and lift my eyes, drawn cs by an irresistible lorce, straight to a box on tho second tier—and meet the steadfast gaze of a pair of handsome dark eyes that seurchod me through—held mo in a soit of spell. I knew the man at once— those oyos, the straight, linely-cut features, the tall, graceful liguro, " Louis Carlcton, by Jove 1" I muttered, and he smiled as if he had hoard my inward exclamation, and turned his face to the stage. I could not; I felt that 1 must go up to him, outside and beyond my natural wish to see again an old " chum," after some three years' gap of tiino. I knew now, too-or at least half "uessod-lho cause of my strange sensation and, vexed at myself, struggled to resist them,

'• I won't stir till the play ii over," I aaitl inwardly, but the moment tlio act-drop fell in the third act I rose-I was obliged to rise, in obedience to thai man's mesmeric power—and made my way round to his box. I tapped at the door. " Come in," said the sofb voice I re membered io well, and the next moment our two hands were close clasped. He laughed pleaaitntly. 