It was the face of Clarence Brant.

When the curtain fell, and she and her father rose to go, he was at their side.
He seemed older and more superior looking than she had ever thought him before, and there was a gentle yet sad wisdom in his eyes and voice that comforted her even while it made her feel like crying.
"You are satisfied that no harm has come to our friend," he said pleasantly.

"Of course you recognized him ?" "Oh, yes; we met him to-day," said Phoebe.

Her provincial pride impelled her to keep up a show of security and indifference.

"We are going to supper with him." Clarence slightly lifted his brows.
"You are more fortunate than I am," he said smilingly.