The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1891-01-18
The long hours passed on. and as the

thinking not or Ed, put or anOther per- |
son, who had come into her mind, not by |
her own invitation, but involuntarily; or
possibly he had been in the background |
all the while, and advanced as the other
receded. She had had no conversation
with Bellingham since that day at the
theatre, but they had met several times
and exchanged. few words, and there
had been something in his manner that
had strengthened and treasured her, she
knew not why-something that seemed
to show that intuition was acquiring
more weight with him than reason. And
yet he had not seemed happy nor at ease;
but his uneasiness- was of kind that
soothed and inspirited her. It was like
the trouble of a cloudy dawn, out of
which the sun at last rises clear. He was
not treacherous nor Intangible, like so
many men; his qualities were large and
firmly based;, he could not play monkey
tricks, and talk one thing whilehe thought
another. The process of his feelings was
honest and open; he-was reserved and ret
icent precisely because he could not be
lnSlncere.
The prima donna longed with all her
soul to be as frank and undisguised as
he. She felt that could she be so all
would be well between them; but that
until then all would not be we'll. And
she said to herself, how perverse mis-
hap it was that this disguise of hers
should have become necessary just when
they met; had she met him at any other
time of her life he would have known
her as she really was, and his intuition
and his reason would have been at one.
But then, again, her pride arose, and she
vowed that if he did not care enough
about knowing her to discern her real
self beneath the false disguise he should
never know her at all. But did what she
called her real self exist any longer? Had
not the disguise destroyed it? And, if SO,
could she expect him to discover what
was no longer there? She pressed her
handssver her eyes and breathed heavily.
The time of waiting was now over,
however. Nine. Bemax was knocking
at the door, and coming in with made
moiselles cloak and bonnet in her hand,
and saying that the carriage was ready
and that they must drive to the theatre
at once in order that mademoiselle might
have time to put on Marguerite's dress
before the curtain rose. The prima
donna stood up, and the realization of
what lay before her came sweeping over
her mind like storm. She was slightly
tremulous and felt cold and feeble.
Nine. Bemax made her drink a glass of
wine, and conducted her down to the
carriage. She seemed hardly to know
where she was, she could speak only
with an effort; benumbing preoccupa-
ton had got possession Of her. AT the
carriage door gentleman was waiting,
clad in evening dress, with light over
coat. Her heart beat for an instant,
then became oppressed and tremulous
again; it was only Jocelyn. He helped
her into the carriage, and got in after her
and Nine. Bemax. He began to say vari-
Gus things in caressing, encouraging
voice; she exclaimed sharply, Don't
speak to mel must think my thoughts!''
The rattle of the wheels on the pave
ment sgitated her; she could not keep
her hands or her lips still. Sometimes
she fancied they had been driving for
hours; sometimes that they had scarcely
started. When at length they arrived
at the theatre everything seemed at
once familiar and strange; she had seen
it all scores Of times before, but never
with the eyes she saw it with now.
Several persons addressed her, but she
walked on to her dressing room without
appearing conscious of any one. The
room was small, but prettily decorated;
there were two full length mirrors in it,
and it was fragrant with flowers. On
the table was lying bunch of Mar.
guerites, tied about with narrow blue
ribbon.
The knot by which the ribbon was
fastened caught the prima donna's eye
she had seen something like it before.
1t was not an ordinary knot, but one
such as sailors make. She took up the
little white and golden cluster and
looked them over; there was nothing to
show whence they came-nothing but
the knot. While she was putting on
her dress her mind occupied itself with
this little mystery, and the oppression
of her heart was relieved. She put the
Marguerites in her girdle, feeling kindly
disposed toward them, for they had done
her good. Then desire suddenly took
possession of her to go out and see the
audience. The overture was still in
progress, and she might cross the stage
and look through a peep hole in the cur.
tain.
Nine. Bemax assented, and accompa.
MED her. The stage was dimly lighted
and a number of people were moving
hither and thither upon it; the scene
shutters were giving the last touches tc
the arrangements Mile Mariana, with
light shawl over hsr shoulders, glide6
unobserved up to the great curtain ane
looked through.
The spectacle was like nothing else SIT
had ever seen or imagined. The hous,
was brilliant with light and alive with
movement and murmur. But the thou
sands Of faces, row after row and tie
above tier; the glance of innumerabl
eyes, all turned toward her; all com
there to see her!-it was astounding ani
terrifying! Those innumerable eyes
nothing could escape them, nothing b
invisible to them. They were overpow
ering, hostile, exterminating! All i'm
preston of individual human beings wa
lost, and the audience seemed to be
sort of monster, without sympathies an,
responsibilities, immense, uncomfortable
omniscient-a merciless, multitudinou
inquisition! How could a single giT
, contend against them? By what miracl
!. could hn1 ,roica ard 1aroca1aoa 1.ancl, n.