s
than ever. And I was glad that it was so. Such agony as I was
enduring would surely make me play Juliet as it had never been played
before.

At rehearsals I could see I created a sensation. I felt that I was
grand in my hapless love, my desperate grief. I should make myself a
name. If Jack were dead or had forsaken me, my art should be all in
all.

The morning before the all important evening dawned, I had lain awake
nearly an hour, as my custom was of nights how, thinking of Jack,
wondering if ever woman had so much cause to grieve as I. Then I
rose, practised taking the friar's potion, and throwing myself upon
the bed, until my mother came up and told me to go to sleep, or my
eyes would be red and hollow in the morning. But I told my mother
that hollow eyes and pale cheeks were necessary to me now--that my
career depended upon the depths of my despair.

"To-morrow, mother, let no one disturb me on any account. Keep away
letters, newspapers, everything. Tomorrow I am Juliet or nothing."

My mother promised, and I got some hours of undisturbed slumber.

Rehearsal was over--the last rehearsal. I had gone through my part
thinking of my woes. I had swallowed the draught as if it had indeed
been a potion to put me out of all remembrance of my misery. I had
snatched the dagger and stabbed myself with great satisfaction, and I
felt I should at least have the comfort of confounding my enemies and
triumphing over them.

I was passing Charing Cross Station, delayed by the streams of
vehicles issuing forth, when in a hansom at a little distance I saw a
form--a face--which made me start and tremble, and turn hot and cold,
and red and white, all at the same time. It could not be Jack. It
ought not, must not, should not be Jack. Had I not to act in
suffering and despair to-night? Well, even if he had returned in
safety from his cruise it was without a thought of me in his heart.
He was engaged--married--for aught I knew. It was possible, nay,
certain, that I should never see him again.

And yet I ran all the way home. And yet I told the servant
breathlessly--"If any visitors call I do not wish to be disturbed."
And yet I made my mother repeat the promise she had given me the
previous night. Then I flew to my den at the top of the house; bolted
myself in, and set a chair against the door as if I were afraid of
anyone making a forcible entry. I stuffed my fingers in my ears, and
went over my part with vigour, with more noi