The Master Mummer by E. Phillips Oppenheim

Isobel, her chair drawn a little behind the curtain, was almost invisible from the house. With both hands she held the cluster of pink roses which she had found upon the seat. Gravely, but with wonderful self-composure, she followed the action of the play with an intentness which never faltered. Occasionally she leaned a little forward, and at such moments her profile passed the droop of the curtain, and was visible to the greater part of the audience. It was immediately after one of such movements that I noticed some commotion amongst the occupants of the box opposite to us. Their attention seemed suddenly drawn towards Isobel -- two sets of opera-glasses were steadily levelled at her. A woman, whose neck and arms were ablaze with diamonds, raised her lorgnettes, and, regardless of the progress of the play, kept them fixed in our direction. I changed my position to obtain a better view of these people, and immediately I understood.

I saw the house now for the first time, and I saw something which pleased me very little. We were immediately opposite the Royal box, which, with the one adjoining, was occupied by a very brilliant little party. The Archduchess was there. It was she whose lorgnettes were still unfalteringly directed towards Isobel. Lady Delahaye sat in the background, and a greater personage than either occupied the chair next to the Archduchess. Soon I saw that they were all whispering together, all still looking from Isobel towards the stage, and from the stage to Isobel; and in the background was a man whose coat was covered with orders, and who held himself like a soldier. He looked at Isobel as one might look at a ghost. I stood back almost hidden in the shadows, and I wondered more than ever what the end of all these things might be.