But instead, he now seemed
resigned to her future career, talked cheerfully and predicted
unbounded success.

She had received very many letters and telegrams from other friends,
and some of them lay in a heap on the dressing-table. The greater part
were from people who had known her at Mrs. Rushmore's, and who did not
look upon her attempt as anything more than the caprice of a gifted
amateur. Society always finds it hard to believe that one of its own
can leave it and turn professional.

It was like Margaret to prefer solitude just then. People who trust
themselves would generally rather be alone just before a great event in
their lives, and Margaret trusted herself a good deal more than she
trusted any one else. Nevertheless, she began to feel that unless
something happened soon, the nameless, indescribable pressure she felt
would become unbearable, and as she walked the shabby carpet, her step
accented itself to a little tramp, like a marching step. The cadaverous
maid looked on with curiosity and said nothing. In her long career she
had never dressed a _debutante_, and she had heard that _debutantes_
sometimes behaved oddly before going on. Besides, she knew something
which Margaret did not know; for when she had come down to the theatre
in the morning with the luggage, she had met Madame Bonanni in the
dressing-room, and her late mistress had given her a piece of
information and some very precise instructions.

A moment came when Margaret felt that she could no longer bear the
close atmosphere of the small room and the curious eyes of the
cadaverous maid, watching her as she walked up and down. Madame Bonanni
would have made the woman go out or even stand with her face to the
wall, but Margaret had not yet lost that aristocratic sense of
consideration for servants which Plato ascribes to pride. Instead of
turning the maid out, Margaret suddenly opened the door wide and stood
on the threshold, breathing with relief the not very sweet air that
came down the corridor from the stage. It came laden with a compound
odour of ropes, dusty scenery, mouldy flour paste and cotton velvet
furniture, the whole very hot and far from aromatic, but at that moment
as refreshing as a sea-breeze to the impatient singer. The smell had
already acquired associations for her during the long weeks of
rehearsal, and she liked it; for it meant the stage, and music, and the
sound of her own beautiful voice, high and clear above the rest.