Pauline-Archange-Emma-Louise de Clairville joined the company, what a
Hamlet she made with her fine figure and her remarkably firm, white
hands, what a Phedre, once when the actor was ill, what an "Oncle Tom"!
What a Duchess of Gerolstein later, when the company discovered that it
could sing, collectively at least, and what a Helen, in flowing Greek
costume, fillet of gold braid, and sandals!

This was indeed Acting--to merge mannerisms, to defy fate and the jeers
of any sober English reporter who strayed into the Theatre of
Novelties! When Mme. d'Estarre found that she had to return to France
unexpectedly, on account of the ill health of her children, left behind
in a provincial town, she was given a grand benefit, and although the
public (who were getting a little tired of madame, she was over fifty)
did not respond as gallantly as might have been expected, the members
of the company with true Gallic chivalry made up the large amount
necessary to carry her across, bring her back and provide in the
interim for the afflicted children. This was Pauline's opportunity;
she naturally succeeded to the position of leading lady, and kept it
until her faults of temper developed and she had the pleasurable
excitement of a fierce quarrel with her manager. Thus, while her
talent was conceded, her stormy temperament prevented her achieving
anything like permanent success, and every few months she would
reappear at St. Ignace, live drearily in the dingy house, lecture the
servants, abuse and weep over her brother, when suddenly tiring of this
she would return and have to begin again at the foot of the ladder.

Ignorant of these cloudy and strenuous careers, Ringfield saw only an
impulsive and unhappy woman old enough to fascinate him by her unusual
command of language and imperiousness of conduct, and young enough for
warm ripe brunette beauty. To be plain, first love was already working
in him, but he did not recognize its signs and portents; he only knew
that an ardent wish to remain at St. Ignace had suddenly taken the
place of the tolerant and amused disdain with which he had once
considered Poussette's offer.

A couple of days later he had returned from a long afternoon on the
river when a man around the place named Crabbe came to him with a
letter. Opening it, he found it to contain another offer from a
prominent citizen of Radford, a large and thriving Western town, to
fill a certain pulpit of some distinction during