oagland, and the actor who had taken Bamberger's part were representing
the principal roles in this scene. The professional, whose name was
Patton, had little to recommend him outside of his assurance, but this
at the present moment was most palpably needed. Mrs. Morgan, as Pearl,
was stiff with fright. Mrs. Hoagland was husky in the throat. The whole
company was so weak-kneed that the lines were merely spoken, and nothing
more. It took all the hope and uncritical good-nature of the audience to
keep from manifesting pity by that unrest which is the agony of failure.

Hurstwood was perfectly indifferent. He took it for granted that it
would be worthless. All he cared for was to have it endurable enough to
allow for pretension and congratulation afterward.

After the first rush of fright, however, the players got over the
danger of collapse. They rambled weakly forward, losing nearly all the
expression which was intended, and making the thing dull in the extreme,
when Carrie came in.

One glance at her, and both Hurstwood and Drouet saw plainly that she
also was weak-kneed. She came faintly across the stage, saying:

"And you, sir; we have been looking for you since eight o'clock," but
with so little colour and in such a feeble voice that it was positively
painful.

"She's frightened," whispered Drouet to Hurstwood.

The manager made no answer.

She had a line presently which was supposed to be funny.

"Well, that's as much as to say that I'm a sort of life pill."

It came out so flat, however, that it was a deathly thing. Drouet
fidgeted. Hurstwood moved his toe the least bit.

There was another place in which Laura was to rise and, with a sense of
impending disaster, say, sadly:

"I wish you hadn't said that, Pearl. You know the old proverb, 'Call a
maid by a married name.'"

The lack of feeling in the thing was ridiculous. Carrie did not get it
at all. She seemed to be talking in her sleep. It looked as if she
were certain to be a wretched failure. She was more hopeless than Mrs.
Morgan, who had recovered somewhat, and was now saying her lines clearly
at least. Drouet looked away from the stage at the audience. The latter
held out silently, hoping for a general change, of course. Hurstwood
fixed his eye on Carrie, as if to hypnotise her into doing better. He
was pouring determination of his own in her direction. He felt sorry for
her.

In a few more minutes it fell to her to read the letter sent in by
t