ered their
heads about why her husband called her "Pepa," for nobody was
interested to that extent.

In accordance with the announcement of Topolski, the company
assembled punctually for the rehearsal. They were to play The Martyr
by D'Ennery, in which the title role, one of the showiest and most
lachrymose in her repertory, was invariably acted each year by the
directress. She played it really well, putting into it her entire
store of tears and vocal lamentations, and had the deep satisfaction
of thrilling the public.

Those name day performances were usually a real benefit for all
kinds of novices, for the caste was purposely made up of the poorest
players so that the acting of Pepa might thereby shine forth more
effectively.

Cabinska went direct to the stage without speaking to anyone and
during the entire rehearsal wore on her face an expression of tender
emotion and absorption. At the end of the rehearsal the entire
company gathered about her and Topolski came forward. Cabinska
modestly lowered her eyes and, pretending to be surprised, waited.

"Allow me, esteemed Directress to extend to you in the name of your
fellow-actors and actresses their most cordial felicitations on the
occasion of your name day and to wish you with all our hearts that
you may continue to remain for a long time the ornament of our stage
and a blessing to your husband and children. In grateful
appreciation of your artistic services and your companionship, the
company begs you, my dear madame, to accept this humble token of our
affection which is only a poor return for your goodness and
kind-heartedness."

Topolski ended and handed her an open case in which was a set of
sapphire gems bought from the contributions of the whole company. He
kissed her hand and stepped aside.

Then all began to approach Cabinska separately; the men kissed her
hands, while the women threw themselves on her neck with
protestations of friendship and good wishes.

Wladek, who had been the first to pay his tribute at hand-kissing,
drew Topolski aside behind the scenes.

"Spit out the dregs of that congratulatory tommyrot, or you'll
poison yourself with such a big dose of hypocrisy."

"But it won't poison her."

"Bah! the sapphires cost one hundred and twenty rubles; for so much
money she can listen a whole week."

"Thank you, thank you with my whole heart! You put me to shame my
dear comrades, for in truth I do not know what I have done to merit
so m