dinners to have you
hear the opera. I have longed so every night to have you there, and to
have you on the stage! my highest wishes are granted. Oh! Marie, when
you make a great point, I shall have to take my flute from my mouth
and cry bravo!"

"Oh, don't speak of the singing. It takes away my breath to think of
myself upon the stage! How I waste my time over dress and gloves! I
must practice; I must be ready for the rehearsal."

"My poor Marie! To-day, of all days, to go without dinner."

"Don't think of it! When the manager 'pays up,' oh, then, Franz! we'll
have dinners. Only part of the money must go to a new concert dress.
When my last was new, I overheard, as I left the stage, a young girl
saying, to her sister, I suppose, 'What an elegant dress!' I wanted to
stop and ask her if she thought it were worth going without meat for a
month."

And as Marie recalled these words to-night to her mind, I saw her look
up and smile as she glanced over the house, and contrasted the showy
dress she wore with the poor home she had left behind.

What a poor home it was, indeed! What a contrast did the gay dress she
arranged for the evening make with her room's poor adorning. The dress
she thrust quickly away, and had devoted herself to the study of the
music for evening. With her brother's assistance, she had prepared
herself for the rehearsal, and had gone there with him.

The rehearsal was more alarming to her than the thought of the
evening performance. There were the conductor's criticising eyes
glaring at her; the unsympathizing glances of some of her stage
companions--though many of them had come to her with words of kindly
encouragement; there was the silent, untenanted expanse of the theatre
before her--none of the excitement of stage scenery, or the brilliancy
of light and tinsel; and she must force herself to think of her
part, as a technical study of music, all the time she felt she was
undergoing a severe criticism from Mademoiselle ----'s friends, who
were comparing the new-comer's voice with that of their own ally.

But her thoughts were not sad. There was in her a gayety and strength
of spirit that bore her up. The brilliant scene gave her an excitement
that helped her to bear the thought of her everyday trials. It had
been hard to work all day, preparing for the evening--hard for the
mind and body--and she had lately lived on poor fare, and wanted the
exercise upon which her physical constitution should s