I always dread the week
here. Just look round the house. I don't believe there's a man in front who
has a quid in his pocket. Now at Liverpool there are lots of nice men. You
should have seen the things I had sent me when I was there with
Harrington's company—and the bouquets! There were flowers left for me
every day.'
What all this meant Kate did not know, and she did not care to guess. For a
moment the strange world she found herself in had distracted her thoughts,
but it could do so no longer; no, not if it were ten times as strange. What
did she care for these actresses? What was it to her what they said or what
they thought of her? She had come to look after her lover; that was her
business, and that only. He was going away to-morrow, and they had arranged
nothing! She did not know whether he was going to remain, or if he expected
her to follow him. She hated the people around her; she hated them for
their laughter, for their fine clothes; she hated them above all because
they were all calling for him. It was Mr. Lennox here and Dick there. What
did they want with him? Could they do nothing without him? It seemed to her
that they were all mocking her, and she hated them for it.
The stage was now full of women. The men stood in the wings or ran to the
ends of distant passages and called, 'Dick, Dick, Dick!'
The orchestra had ceased playing, and the noise in front of the curtain was
growing every moment angrier and louder.
At last Dick appeared, looking splendid in red tights and Hessian boots. He
caught hold of two or three girls, changed their places, peeped to see if
Montgomery was all right, and gave the signal to ring up.
But once the curtain was raised, he was surrounded by half a dozen persons
all wanting to speak to him. Ridding himself of them he contrived to get to
Kate's side, but they had not exchanged half a dozen words before the
proprietor asked if he could 'have a moment.' Then Hender turned up, and
begged of Kate to come and see the dressing-rooms, but fearing to miss him,
she declared she preferred to stay where she was. Nevertheless, it was
difficult not to listen to her friend's explanations as to what was passing
on the stage, and in one of these unguarded moments Dick disappeared. It
was heart-breaking, but she could do nothing but wait until he came back.
Like an iron, the idea that she was about to lose her lover forced itself
deeper into her heart. The fate of her life was hanging in the balance, and
the few words that were to decide it were being delayed time after time, by
things of no importance. Dick had now returned, and was talking with the
gas-man, who wanted to know if the extra 'hand' he had engaged was to be
paid by the company or the management. Every now and again an actress or an
actor would rush through the wings and stare at her; sometimes it was the
whole chorus, headed by Miss Beaumont, whose rude remarks reached her ears
frequently.
She tried to retreat, but the rude eyes and words followed her.
Occasionally the voice of the prompter was heard: 'Now then, ladies,
silence if you please; I can't hear what's being said on the stage.' No one
listened to him, and, like animals in a fair, they continued to crush and
to crowd in the passage between the wings and the whitewashed wall. A tall,
fat girl stood close by; her hand was on her sword, which she slapped
slowly against her thighs. The odour of hair, cheap scent, necks, bosoms
and arms was overpowering, and to Kate's sense of modesty there was
something revolting in this loud display of body. A bugle call was soon
sounded in the orchestra, and this was the signal for much noise and
bustle. The conspirators rushed off the stage, threw aside their cloaks,
and immediately after the soft curling strains of the waltz were heard;
then the bugle was sounded again, and the girls began to tramp.
'Cue for soldiers' entrance,' shouted the prompter.
'Now then, ladies, are you ready?' cried Dick, as he put himself at the
head of the army.
'Yes,' was murmured all along the line, and seeing her hero marching away
at the head of so many women, any one of whom he could have had for the
asking, it crossed her mind that it was unnatural for him to stoop to her,
a poor little dressmaker of Hanley, who did not know anything except,
perhaps, how to stitch the seams of a skirt. But after what had befallen
her last night, it did not seem possible that her fate was to be left
behind, stitching beside Hender and the two little girls, Annie and Lizzie;
stitching bodice after bodice, skirt after skirt, till the end of her days,
remembering always something that had come into her life suddenly and had
gone out of it suddenly. 'It cannot be,' she cried out to herself—'it
cannot be!' And she remembered that he had said that her ear was true, and
her voice as pure as Leslie's. 'A little throaty,' he had said, 'but that
can be improved.' What he meant by throaty she did not know, but no matter;
and to convince herself that he had spoken truly she sang the refrain of
the waltz till the gas-man pulled a rope and brought the curtain down. She
was about to rush on the stage to speak to Dick, but the gas-man stopped
her.
'You must wait a moment, there's a call,' he said. Up went the curtain; the
house burst into loud applause. Down went the curtain; up it went again.
This time only the principals came on, and while they were bowing and
smiling to the audience a great herd of females poured through the wings,
and Kate found herself again among courtesans, conspirators, seducers, and
wandering minstrels.
'Who is she?' they asked as they went by.
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