The Argosy — page 79: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

66 Ugly and Stupid. and sight-seeing. He went to sleep directly he was in his seat, and was only aroused by the vociferous applause that greeted the star. He woke himself up to look at her, and at the first glance his heart stood still. She began to speak. ‘There was no mistaking those clear, sweet tones, even under the trained stage intonation. It was indeed Gertrude, whom he had neither seen nor heard of since he had parted from her in Berkeley Square. Breathlessly he watched her every movement and listened to every word. She was a great actress, undoubtedly; she carried her audience with her in every emotion she pourtrayed. Her passion and fervour reduced them to tears one moment, at another her rippling laughter gladdened their hearts. Only Arthur neither laughed nor cried. ‘To him she was not the heroine of the piece, whose vicissitudes of fortune he fol- lowed with eager interest. She was herself, the woman he loved ; he did not know whether she were acting ill or well, hardly what words she was uttering. He only knew he was once more looking on the face, and listening to the voice that for five years had so persistently haunted his memory. It was over. Hecould not tell whether she had seen him ; indeed, till this moment, it had not occurred to him to wonder. Now, how- ever, aS in answer to repeated calls, she came before the curtain, he was seized with a wild desire to attract her attention. He took the little white rosebud out of his button-hole, and threw it to her. In vain. A bouquet fell at the same moment, and his poor little flower lay unobserved near the footlights. “Well, my good friend, do you mean to come away to-night ?” asked his companion. Arthur started, then, collecting himself, explained that the actress was a former acquaintance of his, and suggested going round to the stage-door to see her. ‘‘ You would not be admitted ; she is never to be found behind the scenes.” So Arthur was compelled to wait till the next day, when, procuring her address, he started off to see her. She was at home, and met him with a vivid blush and a nervous flutter that was most unusual to her. ‘Their greeting was commonplace enough, and when her colour had faded, Arthur was not distracted by the exciting nature of the conversation, from observing how time had dealt with her. There were silver lines in her hair that had surely no business to be there, and lines on her face that told of weary struggles. But the green hazel eyes were soft and expressive as ever, and the play of counte- nance even more varied. But she had lost her cool self-possession, a circumstance he remarked, and attributed to the same wear and tear that had lined her face and touched her hair with grey. ‘May I congratulate you,” he said, presently, “‘on the success you have achieved P” She smiled a little sadly. ‘“ Yes, I suppose I have succeeded; but . * But what ?” CORNICE OOO KS (E(@)