gave no thought to the words, nor to the look of deadly enmity
that accompanied them. Alone again, she speedily became absorbed in a
vision of the triumph which she never doubted was near at hand. A long,
long time it seemed since she had sold herself to degradation: with
this one hope. You see that she had formulated her philosophy of life
since then; a child of the nether world whom fate had endowed with
intellect, she gave articulate utterance to what is seething in the
brains of thousands who fight and perish in the obscure depths. The
bitter bargain was issuing to her profit at last; she would yet attain
that end which had shone through all her misery--to be known as a
successful actress by those she had abandoned, whose faces were growing
dim to her memory, but of whom, in truth, she still thought more than
of all the multitudinous unknown public. A great success during the
remainder of this tour, and she might hope for an engagement in London.
Her portraits would at length be in the windows; some would recognise
her.

Yet she was not so pitiless as she boasted. The next morning, when she
met Grace, there came a pain at her heart in seeing the ghastly,
bloodless countenance which refused to turn towards her. Would Grace be
able to act at all at the next town? Yes, one more scene.

They reached Bolton. In the afternoon the rehearsal took place, but the
first representation was not until to-morrow. Clara saw her name
attached to the leading female character on bills rapidly printed and
distributed through the town. She went about in a dream, rather a
delirium. Mr. Peel used his most affable manner to her; his compliments
after the rehearsal were an augury of great things. And the eventful
evening approached.

To give herself plenty of time to dress (the costumes needed for the
part were fortunately simple, and Mr. Peel had advanced her money to
make needful purchases) she left her lodgings at half-past six. It was
a fine evening, but very dark in the two or three by-streets along
which she had to pass to reach the theatre. She waited a minute on the
doorstep to let a troop of female mill-hands go by; their shoes clanked
on the pavement, and they were singing in chorus, a common habit of
their kind in leaving work. Then she started and walked quickly. .

Close by the stage-door, which was in a dark, narrow passage, stood a
woman with veiled face, a shawl muffling the upper part of her body.
Since six o'clock she