that?"

Caroline looked, and saw a beautiful woman, with sweeping garments of
rose-colored silk, and a cloud of frost-like lace flung over her head
and trailing down her shoulders. Splendid jewels--whether real or false,
she did not care to ask--twinkled like stars through the lace, both on
her head and bosom. The pictures thus reflected were beautiful, but
stormy.

Olympia saw that the rebellious spirit was but half subdued.

"What can I do?" she said, in her perplexity, addressing the maid, who
lifted up both hands and shook her head as she answered:

"Ah, madame! if a toilet like that fails, who can say?"

"I will send for Brown. She will listen to him," said Olympia, driven to
desperation. "With that spirit, she will never get the rollicking air
for her first act."

She went to the door, and found the teacher lingering near, restless and
anxious almost as herself.

"Brown--I say, Brown--come in! She is dressed, but so obstinate! If she
were about to play Norma, it would be worth everything, but in this
part--! Do come in, dear Brown, and get her up to the proper feeling."

Brown entered the room in absolute distress. He would gladly have kept
that young creature from the stage; but having no power to aid her in
avoiding it, was nervously anxious that she should make a success.

Caroline turned to him at once, and came forward with her hands held
out.

"Oh, Mr. Brown, help me! It is not too late. Let them say I am sick.
Indeed, indeed, it will be true! She can take the part, and leave me in
peace. Ask her, beg of her; say that I will go into her kitchen, be her
maid, go out as a teacher--anything on earth, if she will only spare me
this once! Ask her, Mr. Brown. Sometimes she will listen to you!"

Brown held both her hands. They were cold as ice, and he felt that she
was trembling all over.

"My dear, dear child! I have pleaded with her. I have done my best."

"But again--again! Oh, Mr. Brown, do!"

Brown drew Olympia on one side, and entreated her to give the unhappy
girl more time; but he knew well enough that he was asking almost an
impossibility--that the woman had no power to grant that which he
implored of her. In her arrogant power she had pledged that young
creature, body and soul, to the public. How could she draw back, when
the crowding rush of the audience might now be heard from the place
where they stood.

Still the man pleaded with her, for he loved the girl better than
anything on ea