Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1889-03-16
CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VII.
II was Q rainy November night A soft,
continuous downpour was soaking tho Lon
don streets, without, however, affecting their
animation or tho noctural brightness Of tho
capital for tho brilliance Of the gas lamps
was flashed back from innumerable patches
OF water, and every ray Of light seemed to 10
broken by the rain into hundred simmer
ing reflections. It was the hour when all tho
society Of which an autumnal London can
boast Is in the streets, hurrying to Its dinner
or Its anusements, and when tho stream Of
diners out, flowing through the different
channels Of the west, Is met In all tho great
thoroughfares by the stream OF theatre goers
setting eastward
The wests- end Of D. street was cspe-
cially crowded, and SO was the entrance to
certain narrow street loading northward from
II, In which stood tho now bare buildings Of
tho Calliope. Outside tho theatre itself there
was dense mass OF carriages and human
beings, only kept in order by the active vigil
lance OF the police, and wavering to and fro
with kaleidoscope rapidity. Tho line Of
csrriages seemed interminable, and after
those who emerged from them had run the
gauntlet Of the dripping, curious, good tenn
pered multitude outside, thcy had to face the
sterner ordeal Of the struggling we'll dressed
crowd within. surging up the double stair
case Of tho newly decorated theatre Tho air
inside was full Of the hum Of talk, and tho
whole crowd had q homogeneous, almost
family air, as though the contents Of ono
great London salon had been poured into tho
theatre. Everybody seemed to know every
body else; there were politicians and artists,
and writers Of books; known and unknown;
there were fair women and wise women and
great ladies; and there was that largo sub
stratum Of faithful, but comparatively name-
less, persons on whom o successful manager
learns to depend with some confidence on any
first night Of Importance
And this was first night Of exception
able interest So keen, indeed, had been the
competition for tickets, that many Of those
present had as vague and confused an idea of
how they came to bo among tho favored null
titude pouring into the Calliope as a man In
a street panic has Of the devices by which he
has struggled past tho barrier which has
overthrown his neighbor. Miss Bretherton's
first appearance in "Elvira" had been the
subject Of conversation for weeks past among
far larger number Of London circles than
generally concern themselves with theatrical
affairs. Among those which might 10 said
to DO within q certain literary and artistic
circumference, people were able to give dea-
Ato BhouHus AL tuo puuuC iutetc8t. uO
play, 1t was said, was an unusually good one,
and the progress Of the rehearsals had let
loose a food Of rumors to the effect that Miss
Brethertons acting in II would be great
surprise to the public. Further, from tho in
tellectual center Of things, II was only known
that the famous beauty had returned to tho
scenc Of her triumphs; and that now, as In
the season, one of the first articles OF the
social decalogue laid 1t down as necessary
that you should, first of all, SEQ her In tho
theatre and secondly, know her-by fair
means, IL possible, il not, by crooked ones
in society.
Il was nearly n quarter to 8. The orches-
ira had taken their places and almost every
seat was full. In one Of tho dress circle
boxes sat three people who had arrived early,
and had for some time employed themselves
in making q study Of tho incoming stream
through their opera glasses They were
Eustace Kendall, his sister, Mime. dc Chateau
visux, and her husband. The Chateauvieux
had Travelled over Paris expressly for tho
occasion, and Mime. do Chateauvieux, her
gray blue eyes sparkling with expectation
and oil her small, delicate features alive with
interest and animation, was watching for
tho rising Of the heavy velvet curtain with
an eagerness which brought down upon her
the occasional mockery Of her husband, who
was I'm reality, however, little less excited
than herself It was but three weeks since
they had parted with Isabel Bretherton In
Paris, and they were feeling on this first
night something Of the anxiety and response
bility which parents feel when they launch a
child upon whom they havo expended their
best efforts into critical world
As for Eustace, he also had but that after
noon arrived in Loudon. He ehad been paying
long duty visit to some aged relatives In
the north, and had SO heightened 1t out, In
accordance with tho whim which had taken
possession Of him in Surrey, that ho had
missed all the preparations for "Elvira," and
had arrived upon tho scene only at tho mo-
mont when the final coup was to be delivered.
Miss Bretherton had herself sent him warm
note OF invitation, containing an order for
tho first night and an appeal to him to come
and Judge mo as kindly as truth will let
you" And he had answered her that, what
ever happened, he would DO In his place in
tho Calliope on the night Of tue Goth Of No
vember.
And now here be was, wearing outwardly
precisely tho same aspect Of interested ex-
pectation as those around him, and all tho
time conscious inwardly that to him alone, Of
all the human beings In that vast theatre, tho
experience OF the evening would be 30 vitality
and desperately important that life on tho
other sido Of II would bear the mark OF II
forever II was burden TO him that his
sister suspected nothing Of his state OF feel
ing; 1t would have consoled him that she
should know it, but 1t seemed to him impos.
sible TO tell her.
"There are the Stuarts,n he said, bending
down to her, as the orchestra struck up, "in
the box to the left. Forbes, suppose, will
join them when it begins. am told he has
been working like horse FOR this play.
Every detail in it, they say, Is perfect, artis-
tically and historically, and the time Of
preparation has been exceptionally short
Why did sho refuse to begin again with the
White Lady, TO give herself more timer
II cannot tell you, except that she had q
repugnance toit which could not DO got over
believe her associations with the play were
so painful that It would have seemed an evil
omen 10 her TO begin a new season with it.n
"Was she wise, wonderi'
81 think she did well to follow her fancy In
the matter, and she herself has had plenty Of
time. She was working at 1t all the
weeks she was with us, and young Harting,
too, think, had notice enough. Some Of
the smaller parts may go roughly tonight,
but they will soon fall into shape"
"Poor Wallace!" said Kendall, "he must DO
wishing it well over. never saw house
better stocked with critics"
"Here he is" cried Mime. do Chateauvieux,
betraying her suppressed excitement In her
nervous little start. "Oh, Mr. Wallace, how
do you dot and how are things goingp
Poor Wallace threw himself into his seat,
looking the picture Of misery SO far as bis
face. which Nature had nodded In ono OF
her cbeerfulest moods, was capable Of it.
my dear Nine. de Chateauvieux, have
no more notion than tho man in the moon.
Miss Bretherton Is an angel, and without
| Forbes We should have COLLAPSED a hundred