Things seldom turn out as we plan them, and after much waiting andhoping for other work Christie at last accepted about the onlyemployment which had not entered her mind.

 

　　Among the boarders at Mrs. Flint's were an old lady and her prettydaughter, both actresses at a respectable theatre. Not stars by anymeans, but good second-rate players, doing their work creditably andearning an honest living. The mother had been kind to Christie inoffering advice, and sympathizing with her disappointments. Thedaughter, a gay little lass, had taken Christie to the theatreseveral times, there to behold her in all the gauzy glories thatsurround the nymphs of spectacular romance.

 

　　To Christie this was a great delight, for, though she had pored overher father's Shakespeare till she knew many scenes by heart, she hadnever seen a play till Lucy led her into what seemed an enchantedworld. Her interest and admiration pleased the little actress, andsundry lifts when she was hurried with her dresses made her gratefulto Christie.

 

　　The girl's despondent face, as she came in day after day from herunsuccessful quest, told its own story, though she uttered nocomplaint, and these friendly souls laid their heads together, eagerto help her in their own dramatic fashion.

 

　　"I've got it! I've got it! All hail to the queen!" was the cry thatone day startled Christie as she sat thinking anxiously, whilesewing mock-pearls on a crown for Mrs. Black.

 

　　Looking up she saw Lucy just home from rehearsal, going through aseries of pantomimic evolutions suggestive of a warrior doing battlewith incredible valor, and a very limited knowledge of the noble artof self-defence.

 

　　"What have you got? Who is the queen?" she asked, laughing, as thebreathless hero lowered her umbrella, and laid her bonnet atChristie's feet.

 

　　"You are to be the Queen of the Amazons in our new spectacle, athalf a dollar a night for six or eight weeks, if the piece goeswell.""No!" cried Christie, with a gasp.

 

　　"Yes!" cried Lucy, clapping her hands; and then she proceeded totell her news with theatrical volubility. "Mr. Sharp, the manager,wants a lot of tallish girls, and I told him I knew of a perfectdear. He said: 'Bring her on, then,' and I flew home to tell you.

 

　　Now, don't look wild, and say no. You've only got to sing in onechorus, march in the grand procession, and lead your band in theterrific battle-scene. The dress is splendid! Red tunic, tiger-skinover shoulder, helmet, shield, lance, fleshings, sandals, hair down,and as much cork to your eyebrows as you like."Christie certainly did look wild, for Lucy had burst into the roomlike a small hurricane, and her rapid words rattled about thelisteners' ears as if a hail-storm had followed the gust. WhileChristie still sat with her mouth open, too bewildered to reply,Mrs. Black said in her cosey voice:

 

　　"Try it, me dear, it's just what you'll enjoy, and a capitalbeginning I assure ye; for if you do well old Sharp will want youagain, and then, when some one slips out of the company, you canslip in, and there you are quite comfortable. Try it, me dear, andif you don't like it drop it when the piece is over, and there's noharm done.""It's much easier and jollier than any of the things you are after.

 

　　We'll stand by you like bricks, and in a week you'll say it's thebest lark you ever had in your life. Don't be prim, now, but sayyes, like a trump, as you are," added Lucy, waving a pink satintrain temptingly before her friend.

 

　　"I will try it!" said Christie, with sudden decision, feeling thatsomething entirely new and absorbing was what she needed to expendthe vigor, romance, and enthusiasm of her youth upon.

 

　　With a shriek of delight Lucy swept her off her chair, and twirledher about the room as excitable young ladies are fond of doing whentheir joyful emotions need a vent. When both were giddy theysubsided into a corner and a breathless discussion of the importantstep.

 

　　Though she had consented, Christie had endless doubts and fears, butLucy removed many of the former, and her own desire for pleasantemployment conquered many of the latter. In her most despairingmoods she had never thought of trying this. Uncle Enos considered"play-actin'" as the sum of all iniquity. What would he say if shewent calmly to destruction by that road? Sad to relate, thisrecollection rather strengthened her purpose, for a delicious senseof freedom pervaded her soul, and the old defiant spirit seemed torise up within her at the memory of her Uncle's grim prophecies andnarrow views.

 

　　"Lucy is happy, virtuous, and independent, why can't I be so too ifI have any talent? It isn't exactly what I should choose, but anything honest is better than idleness. I'll try it any way, and get alittle fun, even if I don't make much money or glory out of it."So Christie held to her resolution in spite of many secretmisgivings, and followed Mrs. Black's advice on all points with adocility which caused that sanguine lady to predict that she wouldbe a star before she knew where she was.

 

　　"Is this the stage? How dusty and dull it is by daylight!" saidChristie next day, as she stood by Lucy on the very spot where shehad seen Hamlet die in great anguish two nights before.

 

　　"Bless you, child, it's in curl-papers now, as I am of a morning.

 

　　Mr. Sharp, here's an Amazon for you."As she spoke, Lucy hurried across the stage, followed by Christie,wearing any thing but an Amazonian expression just then.

 

　　"Ever on before?" abruptly asked, a keen-faced, little man, glancingwith an experienced eye at the young person who stood before himbathed in blushes.

 

　　"No, sir.""Do you sing?""A little, sir.""Dance, of course?""Yes, sir.""Just take a turn across the stage, will you? Must walk well to leada march."As she went, Christie heard Mr. Sharp taking notes audibly:

 

　　"Good tread; capital figure; fine eye. She'll make up well, andbehave herself, I fancy."A strong desire to make off seized the girl; but, remembering thatshe had presented herself for inspection, she controlled theimpulse, and returned to him with no demonstration of displeasure,but a little more fire in "the fine eye," and a more erect carriageof the "capital figure.""All right, my dear. Give your name to Mr. Tripp, and your mind tothe business, and consider yourself engaged,"--with whichsatisfactory remark the little man vanished like a ghost.

 

　　"Lucy, did you hear that impertinent 'my dear'?" asked Christie,whose sense of propriety had received its first shock.

 

　　"Lord, child, all managers do it. They don't mean any thing; so beresigned, and thank your stars he didn't say 'love' and 'darling,'

 

　　and kiss you, as old Vining used to," was all the sympathy she got.

 

　　Having obeyed orders, Lucy initiated her into the mysteries of theplace, and then put her in a corner to look over the scenes in whichshe was to appear. Christie soon caught the idea of her part,--not adifficult matter, as there were but few ideas in the whole piece,after which she sat watching the arrival of the troop she was tolead. A most forlorn band of warriors they seemed, huddled together,and looking as if afraid to speak, lest they should infringe somerule; or to move, lest they be swallowed up by some unsuspectedtrap-door.

 

　　Presently the ballet-master appeared, the orchestra struck up, andChristie found herself marching and counter-marching at word ofcommand. At first, a most uncomfortable sense of the absurdity ofher position oppressed and confused her; then the ludicrous contrastbetween the solemn anxiety of the troop and the fantastic evolutionsthey were performing amused her till the novelty wore off; themartial music excited her; the desire to please sharpened her wits;and natural grace made it easy for her to catch and copy the stepsand poses given her to imitate. Soon she forgot herself, enteredinto the spirit of the thing, and exerted every sense to please, sosuccessfully that Mr. Tripp praised her quickness at comprehension,Lucy applauded heartily from a fairy car, and Mr. Sharp popped hishead out of a palace window to watch the Amazon's descent from theMountains of the Moon.

 

　　When the regular company arrived, the troop was dismissed till theprogress of the play demanded their reappearance. Much interested inthe piece, Christie stood aside under a palm-tree, the foliage ofwhich was strongly suggestive of a dilapidated green umbrella,enjoying the novel sights and sounds about her.

 

　　Yellow-faced gentlemen and sleepy-eyed ladies roamed languidly aboutwith much incoherent jabbering of parts, and frequent explosions oflaughter. Princes, with varnished boots and suppressed cigars,fought, bled, and died, without a change of countenance. Damsels ofunparalleled beauty, according to the text, gaped in the faces ofadoring lovers, and crocheted serenely on the brink of annihilation.

 

　　Fairies, in rubber-boots and woollen head-gear, disported themselveson flowery barks of canvas, or were suspended aloft with hooks intheir backs like young Hindoo devotees. Demons, guiltless of hoof orhorn, clutched their victims with the inevitable "Ha! ha!" andvanished darkly, eating pea-nuts. The ubiquitous Mr. Sharp seemed topervade the whole theatre; for his voice came shrilly from above orspectrally from below, and his active little figure darted to andfro like a critical will-o-the-wisp.

 

　　The grand march and chorus in the closing scene were easilyaccomplished; for, as Lucy bade her, Christie "sung with all hermight," and kept step as she led her band with the dignity of aBoadicea. No one spoke to her; few observed her; all were intent ontheir own affairs; and when the final shriek and bang died awaywithout lifting the roof by its din, she could hardly believe thatthe dreaded first rehearsal was safely over.

 

　　A visit to the wardrobe-room to see her dress came next; and hereChristie had a slight skirmish with the mistress of that departmentrelative to the length of her classical garments. As studies fromthe nude had not yet become one of the amusements of the elite ofLittle Babel, Christie was not required to appear in the severesimplicity of a costume consisting of a necklace, sandals, and a bitof gold fringe about the waist, but was allowed an extra inch or twoon her tunic, and departed, much comforted by the assurance that herdress would not be "a shock to modesty," as Lucy expressed it.

 

　　"Now, look at yourself, and, for my sake, prove an honor to yourcountry and a terror to the foe," said Lucy, as she led her protégéebefore the green-room mirror on the first night of "The Demon'sDaughter, or The Castle of the Sun!! The most Magnificent Spectacleever produced upon the American Stage!!!"Christie looked, and saw a warlike figure with glittering helmet,shield and lance, streaming hair and savage cloak. She liked thepicture, for there was much of the heroic spirit in the girl, andeven this poor counterfeit pleased her eye and filled her fancy withmartial memories of Joan of Arc, Zenobia, and Britomarte.

 

　　"Go to!" cried Lucy, who affected theatrical modes of speech. "Don'tadmire yourself any longer, but tie up your sandals and come on. Besure you rush down the instant I cry, 'Demon, I defy thee!' Don'tbreak your neck, or pick your way like a cat in wet weather, butcome with effect, for I want that scene to make a hit."CHRISTIE AS QUEEN OF THE AMAZONS.

 

　　Princess Caremfil swept away, and the Amazonian queen climbed to herperch among the painted mountains, where her troop already sat likea flock of pigeons shining in the sun. The gilded breast-plate roseand fell with the quick beating of her heart, the spear shook withthe trembling of her hand, her lips were dry, her head dizzy, andmore than once, as she waited for her cue, she was sorely tempted torun away and take the consequences.

 

　　But the thought of Lucy's good-will and confidence kept her, andwhen the cry came she answered with a ringing shout, rushed down theten-foot precipice, and charged upon the foe with an energy thatinspired her followers, and quite satisfied the princess strugglingin the demon's grasp.

 

　　With clashing of arms and shrill war-cries the rescuers of innocenceassailed the sooty fiends who fell before their unscientific blowswith a rapidity which inspired in the minds of beholders a suspicionthat the goblins' own voluminous tails tripped them up and gallantrykept them prostrate. As the last groan expired, the last agonizedsquirm subsided, the conquerors performed the intricate dance withwhich it appears the Amazons were wont to celebrate their victories.

 

　　Then the scene closed with a glare of red light and a "grandtableau" of the martial queen standing in a bower of lances, therescued princess gracefully fainting in her arms, and the vanquisheddemon scowling fiercely under her foot, while four-and-twentydishevelled damsels sang a song of exultation, to the barbaric musicof a tattoo on their shields.

 

　　All went well that night, and when at last the girls doffed crownand helmet, they confided to one another the firm opinion that thesuccess of the piece was in a great measure owing to their talent,their exertions, and went gaily home predicting for themselvescareers as brilliant as those of Siddons and Rachel.

 

　　It would be a pleasant task to paint the vicissitudes and victoriesof a successful actress; but Christie was no dramatic genius born toshine before the world and leave a name behind her. She had notalent except that which may be developed in any girl possessing thelively fancy, sympathetic nature, and ambitious spirit which makesuch girls naturally dramatic. This was to be only one of manyexperiences which were to show her her own weakness and strength,and through effort, pain, and disappointment fit her to play anobler part on a wider stage.

 

　　For a few weeks Christie's illusions lasted; then she discoveredthat the new life was nearly as humdrum as the old, that hercompanions were ordinary men and women, and her bright hopes weregrowing as dim as her tarnished shield. She grew unutterably wearyof "The Castle of the Sun," and found the "Demon's Daughter" anunmitigated bore. She was not tired of the profession, onlydissatisfied with the place she held in it, and eager to attempt apart that gave some scope for power and passion.

 

　　Mrs. Black wisely reminded her that she must learn to use her wingsbefore she tried to fly, and comforted her with stories ofcelebrities who had begun as she was beginning, yet who had suddenlyburst from their grub-like obscurity to adorn the world as splendidbutterflies.

 

　　"We'll stand by you, Kit; so keep up your courage, and do your best.

 

　　Be clever to every one in general, old Sharp in particular, and whena chance comes, have your wits about you and grab it. That's the wayto get on," said Lucy, as sagely as if she had been a star foryears.

 

　　"If I had beauty I should stand a better chance," sighed Christie,surveying herself with great disfavor, quite unconscious that to acultivated eye the soul of beauty was often visible in that face ofhers, with its intelligent eyes, sensitive mouth, and fine linesabout the forehead, making it a far more significant and attractivecountenance than that of her friend, possessing only piquantprettiness.

 

　　"Never mind, child; you've got a lovely figure, and an actress'sbest feature,--fine eyes and eyebrows. I heard old Kent say so, andhe's a judge. So make the best of what you've got, as I do,"answered Lucy, glancing at her own comely little person with an airof perfect resignation.

 

　　Christie laughed at the adviser, but wisely took the advice, and,though she fretted in private, was cheerful and alert in public.

 

　　Always modest, attentive, and obliging, she soon became a favoritewith her mates, and, thanks to Lucy's good offices with Mr. Sharp,whose favorite she was, Christie got promoted sooner than sheotherwise would have been.

 

　　A great Christmas spectacle was brought out the next season, andChristie had a good part in it. When that was over she thought therewas no hope for her, as the regular company was full and a differentsort of performance was to begin. But just then her chance came, andshe "grabbed it." The first soubrette died suddenly, and in theemergency Mr. Sharp offered the place to Christie till he could fillit to his mind. Lucy was second soubrette, and had hoped for thispromotion; but Lucy did not sing well. Christie had a good voice,had taken lessons and much improved of late, so she had thepreference and resolved to stand the test so well that thistemporary elevation should become permanent.

 

　　She did her best, and though many of the parts were distasteful toher she got through them successfully, while now and then she hadone which she thoroughly enjoyed. Her Tilly Slowboy was a hit, and aproud girl was Christie when Kent, the comedian, congratulated heron it, and told her he had seldom seen it better done.

 

　　To find favor in Kent's eyes was an honor indeed, for he belonged tothe old school, and rarely condescended to praise modern actors. Hisown style was so admirable that he was justly considered the firstcomedian in the country, and was the pride and mainstay of the oldtheatre where he had played for years. Of course he possessed muchinfluence in that little world, and being a kindly man used itgenerously to help up any young aspirant who seemed to himdeserving.

 

　　He had observed Christie, attracted by her intelligent face andmodest manners, for in spite of her youth there was a nativerefinement about her that made it impossible for her to romp andflirt as some of her mates did. But till she played Tilly he had notthought she possessed any talent. That pleased him, and seeing howmuch she valued his praise, and was flattered by his notice, he gaveher the wise but unpalatable advice always offered young actors.

 

　　Finding that she accepted it, was willing to study hard, workfaithfully, and wait patiently, he predicted that in time she wouldmake a clever actress, never a great one.

 

　　Of course Christie thought he was mistaken, and secretly resolved toprove him a false prophet by the triumphs of her career. But shemeekly bowed to his opinion; this docility pleased him, and he tooka paternal sort of interest in her, which, coming from the powerfulfavorite, did her good service with the higher powers, and helpedher on more rapidly than years of meritorious effort.

 

　　Toward the end of that second season several of Dickens's dramatizednovels were played, and Christie earned fresh laurels. She lovedthose books, and seemed by instinct to understand and personate thehumor and pathos of many of those grotesque creations. Believing shehad little beauty to sacrifice, she dressed such parts to the life,and played them with a spirit and ease that surprised those who hadconsidered her a dignified and rather dull young person.

 

　　"I'll tell you what it is, Sharp, that girl is going to make acapital character actress. When her parts suit, she forgets herselfentirely and does admirably well. Her Miggs was nearly the death ofme to-night. She's got that one gift, and it's a good one. You 'dbetter give her a chance, for I think she'll be a credit to the oldconcern."Kent said that,--Christie heard it, and flew to Lucy, waving Miggs'scap for joy as she told the news.

 

　　"What did Mr. Sharp say?" asked Lucy, turning round with her facehalf "made up.""He merely said 'Hum,' and smiled. Wasn't that a good sign?" saidChristie, anxiously.

 

　　"Can't say," and Lucy touched up her eyebrows as if she took nointerest in the affair.

 

　　Christie's face fell, and her heart sunk at the thought of failure;but she kept up her spirits by working harder than ever, and soonhad her reward. Mr. Sharp's "Hum" did mean yes, and the next seasonshe was regularly engaged, with a salary of thirty dollars a week.

 

　　It was a grand step, and knowing that she owed it to Kent, Christiedid her utmost to show that she deserved his good opinion. Newtrials and temptations beset her now, but hard work and an innocentnature kept her safe and busy. Obstacles only spurred her on toredoubled exertion, and whether she did well or ill, was praised orblamed, she found a never-failing excitement in her attempts toreach the standard of perfection she had set up for herself. Kentdid not regret his patronage. Mr. Sharp was satisfied with thesuccess of the experiment, and Christie soon became a favorite in asmall way, because behind the actress the public always saw a womanwho never "forgot the modesty of nature."But as she grew prosperous in outward things, Christie found herselfburdened with a private cross that tried her very much. Lucy was nolonger her friend; something had come between them, and a steadilyincreasing coldness took the place of the confidence and affectionwhich had once existed. Lucy was jealous for Christie had passed herin the race. She knew she could not fill the place Christie hadgained by favor, and now held by her own exertions, still she wasbitterly envious, though ashamed to own it.

 

　　Christie tried to be just and gentle, to prove her gratitude to herfirst friend, and to show that her heart was unchanged. But shefailed to win Lucy back and felt herself injured by such unjustresentment. Mrs. Black took her daughter's part, and though theypreserved the peace outwardly the old friendliness was quite gone.

 

　　Hoping to forget this trouble in excitement Christie gave herselfentirely to her profession, finding in it a satisfaction which for atime consoled her.

 

　　But gradually she underwent the sorrowful change which comes tostrong natures when they wrong themselves through ignorance orwilfulness.

 

　　Pride and native integrity kept her from the worst temptations ofsuch a life, but to the lesser ones she yielded, growing selfish,frivolous, and vain,--intent on her own advancement, and careless bywhat means she reached it. She had no thought now beyond her art, nodesire beyond the commendation of those whose opinion wasserviceable, no care for any one but herself.

 

　　Her love of admiration grew by what it fed on, till the sound ofapplause became the sweetest music to her ear. She rose with thishope, lay down with this satisfaction, and month after month passedin this feverish life, with no wish to change it, but a growingappetite for its unsatisfactory delights, an ever-increasingforgetfulness of any higher aspiration than dramatic fame.

 

　　"Give me joy, Lucy, I'm to have a benefit next week! Everybody elsehas had one, and I've played for them all, so no one seemed tobegrudge me my turn when dear old Kent proposed it," said Christie,coming in one night still flushed and excited with the good news.

 

　　"What shall you have?" asked Lucy, trying to look pleased, andfailing decidedly.

 

　　"'Masks and Faces.' I've always wanted to play Peg. and it has goodparts for you and Kent, and St. George I chose it for that reason,for I shall need all the help I can get to pull me through, I daresay."The smile vanished entirely at this speech, and Christie wassuddenly seized with a suspicion that Lucy was not only jealous ofher as an actress, but as a woman. St. George was a comely youngactor who usually played lovers' parts with Christie, and playedthem very well, too, being possessed of much talent, and agentleman. They had never thought of falling in love with eachother, though St. George wooed and won Christie night after night invaudeville and farce. But it was very easy to imagine that so muchmock passion had a basis of truth, and Lucy evidently tormentedherself with this belief.

 

　　"Why didn't you choose Juliet: St. George would do Romeo so well?"said Lucy, with a sneer.

 

　　"No, that is beyond me. Kent says Shakespeare will never be my line,and I believe him. I should think you'd be satisfied with 'Masks andFaces,' for you know Mabel gets her husband safely back in the end,"answered Christie, watching the effect of her words.

 

　　"As if I wanted the man! No, thank you, other people's leavingswon't suit me," cried Lucy, tossing her head, though her face beliedher words.

 

　　"Not even though he has 'heavenly eyes,' 'distracting legs,' and 'amelting voice?'" asked Christie maliciously, quoting Lucy's ownrapturous speeches when the new actor came.

 

　　"Come, come, girls, don't quarrel. I won't 'ave it in me room.

 

　　Lucy's tired to death, and it's not nice of you, Kitty, to come andcrow over her this way," said Mamma Black, coming to the rescue, forLucy was in tears, and Christie looking dangerous.

 

　　"It's impossible to please you, so I'll say good-night," andChristie went to her room with resentment burning hotly in herheart.

 

　　As she crossed the chamber her eye fell on her own figure reflectedin the long glass, and with a sudden impulse she tinned up the gas,wiped the rouge from her cheeks, pushed back her hair, and studiedher own face intently for several moments. It was pale and jadednow, and all its freshness seemed gone; hard lines had come aboutthe mouth, a feverish disquiet filled the eyes, and on the foreheadseemed to lie the shadow of a discontent that saddened the wholeface. If one could believe the testimony of that countenance thingswere not going well with Christie, and she owned it with a regretfulsigh, as she asked herself, "Am I what I hoped I should be? No, andit is my fault. If three years of this life have made me this, whatshall I be in ten? A fine actress perhaps, but how good a woman?"With gloomy eyes fixed on her altered face she stood a momentstruggling with herself. Then the hard look returned, and she spokeout defiantly, as if in answer to some warning voice within herself.

 

　　"No one cares what I am, so why care myself? Why not go on and getas much fame as I can? Success gives me power if it cannot give mehappiness, and I must have some reward for my hard work. Yes! a gaylife and a short one, then out with the lights and down with thecurtain!"But in spite of her reckless words Christie sobbed herself to sleepthat night like a child who knows it is astray, yet cannot see theright path or hear its mother's voice calling it home.

 

　　On the night of the benefit, Lucy was in a most exasperating mood,Christie in a very indignant one, and as they entered theirdressing-room they looked as if they might have played the RivalQueens with great effect. Lucy offered no help and Christie askednone, but putting her vexation resolutely out of sight fixed hermind on the task before her.

 

　　As the pleasant stir began all about her, actress-like, she felt herspirits rise, her courage increase with every curl she fastened up,every gay garment she put on, and soon smiled approvingly atherself, for excitement lent her cheeks a better color than rouge,her eyes shone with satisfaction, and her heart beat high with theresolve to make a hit or die.

 

　　Christie needed encouragement that night, and found it in the heartywelcome that greeted her, and the full house, which proved how kinda regard was entertained for her by many who knew her only by afictitious name. She felt this deeply, and it helped her much, forshe was vexed with many trials those before the footlights knewnothing of.

 

　　The other players were full of kindly interest in her success, butLucy took a naughty satisfaction in harassing her by all the smallslights and unanswerable provocations which one actress has it inher power to inflict upon another.

 

　　Christie was fretted almost beyond endurance, and retaliated by anominous frown when her position allowed, threatening asides when amoment's by-play favored their delivery, and angry protests whenevershe met Lucy off the stage.

 

　　But in spite of all annoyances she had never played better in herlife. She liked the part, and acted the warm-hearted, quick-witted,sharp-tongued Peg with a spirit and grace that surprised even thosewho knew her best. Especially good was she in the scenes withTriplet, for Kent played the part admirably, and cheered her on withmany an encouraging look and word. Anxious to do honor to her patronand friend she threw her whole heart into the work; in the scenewhere she comes like a good angel to the home of the poorplay-wright, she brought tears to the eyes of her audience; and whenat her command Triplet strikes up a jig to amuse the children she"covered the buckle" in gallant style, dancing with all thefrolicsome abandon of the Irish orange-girl who for a moment forgother grandeur and her grief.

 

　　That scene was her best, for it is full of those touches of naturethat need very little art to make them effective; and when a greatbouquet fell with a thump at Christie's feet, as she paused to bowher thanks for an encore, she felt that she had reached the heightof earthly bliss.

 

　　In the studio scene Lucy seemed suddenly gifted with unsuspectedskill; for when Mabel kneels to the picture, praying her rival togive her back her husband's heart, Christie was amazed to see realtears roll down Lucy's cheeks, and to hear real love and longingthrill her trembling words with sudden power and passion.

 

　　"That is not acting. She does love St. George, and thinks I mean tokeep him from her. Poor dear! I'll tell her all about it to-night,and set her heart at rest," thought Christie; and when Peg left theframe, her face expressed the genuine pity that she felt, and hervoice was beautifully tender as she promised to restore the stolentreasure.

 

　　Lucy felt comforted without knowing why, and the piece went smoothlyon to its last scene. Peg was just relinquishing the repentanthusband to his forgiving wife with those brave words of hers, when arending sound above their heads made all look up and start back; allbut Lucy, who stood bewildered. Christie's quick eye saw theimpending danger, and with a sudden spring she caught her friendfrom it. It was only a second's work, but it cost her much; for inthe act, down crashed one of the mechanical contrivances used in alate spectacle, and in its fall stretched Christie stunned andsenseless on the stage.

 

　　A swift uprising filled the house with tumult; a crowd of actorshurried forward, and the panic-stricken audience caught glimpses ofpoor Peg lying mute and pallid in Mabel's arms, while Vane wrung hishands, and Triplet audibly demanded, "Why the devil somebody didn'tgo for a doctor?"Then a brilliant view of Mount Parnassus, with Apollo and the NineMuses in full blast, shut the scene from sight, and soon Mr. Sharpappeared to ask their patience till the after-piece was ready, forMiss Douglas was too much injured to appear again. And with anunwonted expression of feeling, the little man alluded to "thegenerous act which perhaps had changed the comedy to a tragedy androbbed the beneficiary of her well-earned reward at their hands."All had seen the impulsive spring toward, not from, the danger, andthis unpremeditated action won heartier applause than Christie everhad received for her best rendering of more heroic deeds.

 

　　But she did not hear the cordial round they gave her. She had saidshe would "make a hit or die;" and just then it seemed as if she haddone both, for she was deaf and blind to the admiration and thesympathy bestowed upon her as the curtain fell on the first, lastbenefit she ever was to have.