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 m ' Moore 
 
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PR 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE 
 
 Joseph Whitmore Barry 
 dramatic library 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 TWO FRIENDS 
 
 OF Cornell University 
 
 1934 
 
The original of tliis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924012966275 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 GEORGE MOOEE. 
 
In Crovm 8vo, Price 3s. 6d. 
 Mr. GEOKGB MOOEE'S NEW REALISTIC STOEY, 
 
 A MERE ACCIDENT. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOE. 
 Fifth Edition in Crovm 8vo, with a Frontispiece hy J. E. Blanche, Price 6s. 
 
 A DRAMA IN MUSLIN. 
 
 " Mr. George Moore's work stands on a ver^ much higher plane than the facile 
 fiction of the circulating libraries. Its purpose is good (for it is a novel with a pur- 
 pose) and the essentials of its matter are good. The hideous comedy of the marriage- 
 market has been a stock topic with novelists from Thackeray downwards ; but Mr. 
 Moore goe? deep into the yet more hideous tragedy wjiich forma its afterpiece, the 
 tragedy of enforced stagnant celibacy, with its double catastrophe of disease and rice. 
 The characters are drawn with patient care, and with a power of individualisation 
 which marks the born novelist. It is a seriouSj powerful, and in many respects edify- 
 ing book."— PaU Mall Oazette. 
 
 New Edition in small 8vo, Price 2s. 
 
 A MODERN LOVER. 
 
 "Mr. Moore has a real power of drawing character, and some of his descriptive 
 scenes are capital." — St. Jame^s Oazette. 
 
 " It would be difficult to praise too highly the strength, truth, delicacy, and pathos 
 of the incident of Gwynnie Lloyd, and the admirable treatment of the great sacrifice 
 she makes. The incident is depicted with skill and liea,xity."— Spectator. 
 
 In Pamphlet Form, Price 3d. 
 
 LITERATURE AT NURSE; 
 
 OE, CIEODLATDSra MOEALS. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO ALL LITERART MEN AND TO TEE SUBSOAIBESS TO "SELECT" CIR- 
 OULATIira DIBSAJUE3. 
 
 " The case which Mr. George Moore establishes against Mr. Mudie is unanswerable." 
 —World. 
 
 VIZBTELLY & CO., 42 CATHEEINE STEEET, STEAND. 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 GEORGE MOORE, 
 
 ADTHOK OP "A MERE ACCIDENT," "A MODERN LOVEB," "A DRAMA 
 IN MUSLIN." 
 
 TJSNTH EDITION 
 
 LONDON : 
 . VIZEIELLY &- CO., 4fl CATHERINE STREET, STRAND. 
 
 1887. 
 
 
S. Cowan & Co. Sfraihmore Priming Works, Perth. 
 
TO MY PRIEND, 
 
 JAMES DAVIS, 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK, IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT 
 LITEEAKY DEBT. 
 
jb-ji^ypo 
 
 " Change the surroundings in which man lives, and, in two or three 
 generations, you will have changed his physical constitution, his habits of 
 life, and a goodly number of his ideas." — VieiOR DuRuy, L'Introdiiotion 
 G6n4rale d VHistoire de France. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 
 
 Yes, it is obviously a satisfaction to bncl that five editions of 
 your book have gone off within a year : but in my cup of 
 bliss there is one drop of honey perhaps more delicate in 
 flavour than it has been the fortune of others, who have written 
 prefaces to the sixth edition of their books, to taste. And 
 it is the intensity of this one drop of honey that makes 
 the rest of the draught coarse and commonplace in my 
 mouth. I speak unreservedly, unfearful of the charge of arrog- 
 ance, untouched by taint of personal vanity. The artist was 
 attacked by the Philistine, the Philistine was defeated ; and 
 all I see, or care to see, in my sixth edition, is conclusive 
 proof of the enemy's rout. Be my book well or badly written, 
 this measure of success must be conceded to it ; and for this 
 success it is endeared to me as no book of mine ever will be 
 again. 
 
 In the initial stage of it* career, two select librarians coalesced 
 for the purpose of stamping it out of literary exi stance. The 
 injury done to a book by being refused at the libraries 
 can be easily imagined ; to be plain, mine at one moment 
 squeaked the squeak of death, and was only saved by vigorous 
 advertising, and resolutely calling attention to the fact that a 
 couple of tradesmen were at work plastering and veneering 
 English literature— adapting it to meet their commercial views 
 and speculations. An article I contributed to the Pall Mall 
 on this subject proved very serviceable ; and afterwards, I issued 
 a pamphlet, entitled " Literature at Nurse ; or, Circulating 
 Morals," containing indecent passages culled from the books 
 
riii PREFACE. 
 
 the select librarians do consent to lend and sell, and therewith 
 challenging a ijublic verdict. The English press did not take 
 long to arrive at a decision — need I say that it was in my 
 favoiir? My book was therefore brought before the public, 
 failure was averted, and a sixth edition has been arrived at. 
 
 This may seem a purely personal matter ; but I cannot admit 
 that it is no more. It concerns nobody — my publisher and 
 myself excepted — whether " A Mummer's Wife" sold one or ten 
 thousand copies, but whether a couple of tradesmen should or 
 should not be allowed to check and control the development 
 of our literature, I take to be a matter of national import- 
 ance. Therefore, it may be said that the success of " A 
 Mummer's Wife " is shared indirectly by the entire public, 
 and directly by every author who loves and respects his art. 
 
 But in this bout with the men of Gath I did not fight 
 alone. Never did a poor crusader in the land of the infidel 
 receive more loyal nupport. Authors have often reviled their 
 critics ; for mine I have but admiration and many heartfelt 
 thanks. I found them neither purblind, ignorant, stupid, 
 nor cowardly. Not for one instant did they falter, and nobly 
 did they refuse to accept the loudly trumpeted edict of the 
 librarians that "A Mummer's Wife " was not a book to be read. 
 That these monopolists should deem themselves infallible is 
 but human ; that they expected to find their ruling supported 
 by the press and their customers is probable ; that they now 
 pass defeated from the bar of public opinion is certain. 
 
 In revising my text for this new edition, I have had an 
 opportunity of considering whether I had written any phrase or 
 word that could give offence to the modest mind. I have 
 searched diligently, and have found nothing. If I have erred 
 it has been on the side of too great reticence of expression! 
 Plain speaking has always been a characteristic of our litera- 
 ture ; even such rigid moralists as Milton and Goldsmith did 
 not shrink from speaking of all things, and using words too 
 common in the spoken, too infrequent in the written language 
 of to-day. I say this unhesitatingly, for I believe that when a 
 language loses its homeliness of expression it shows unmis- 
 
PREFACE. U 
 
 takeable signs of senility and decay. The classical writers 
 spoke simply and straightforwardly. I have well weighed the 
 literary tradition as it comes down to us from Marlowe, Shake- 
 speare, Ben Jonson,Wyoherley,Cdngreve, Fielding, Swift, Sterne, 
 Byron, Shelley, and Landor, and I confess I still see no reason 
 for abandoning the example they have set of frankness of diction 
 and adopting the suggestiveness that the librarians teU. me they 
 so infinitely prefer. I contend, therefore, that the language used 
 in " A Mummer's Wife " is not an innovation, but an attempt 
 to retiiru to a more healthy taste than at present prevails in 
 literary expression. 
 
 But if in revising my text I found no phrase or word to 
 cancel for moral, I found much that stood in sore need of 
 alteration for artistic reasons. Kedundant words have been 
 taken out, and sentences have been recast. Flowers have their 
 perfumes, phrases their cadences, and in the music of accents 
 an under-current of delicious idea, or rather subtle suggestion, 
 is conveyed. How much this book was, and is still, wanting 
 in this inestimable quality, none knows better than I. I 
 should have liked to re-write every paragraph ; but life is brief, 
 and we must admit a finality in all things — even in artistic 
 work. I shall therefore Strive to rest satisfied with "A 
 Mummer's Wife " as ij now stands, and I hope that if any 
 future critic finds that it suits his purpose to speak of it, his 
 words of praise or blame will proceed from a knowledge of 
 this, rather than of the original edition. 
 
 GEORGE MOORE. 
 
A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In default of a screen, a gown and a red petticoat had been thrown 
 over a clothes-horse, and tliis shaded the glare of the lamp from the 
 eyes of the sick man. In the pale obscurity of the room, his bearded 
 cheeks could be seen buried in a heap of tossed pillows. By his 
 bedside sat a young woman. As she dozed, her face drooped until her 
 features were hidden, and the lamp-light made the curious curves 
 of a beautiful ear look like a piece of illuminated porcelain. Her 
 hands lay upon her lap, her needlework slipped from them ; as it 
 fell to the ground, she awoke. 
 
 Pressing her hands against her forehead, she made an effort to 
 rouse herself. As she did so, her face contracted with an expression 
 of disgust, and she remembered the ether. The soft, vaporous 
 odour drifted towards her from a small table strewn with medicine 
 bottles, which stood at the foot of the iron bedstead. Arising, she 
 passed silently across the room, and, taking care to hold the cork 
 tightly in her fingers, so as to avoid any Bound, she squeezed it 
 firmly into the bottle. At that moment the clock struck eleven. 
 The clear tones of its bell broke the silence sharply ; the patient 
 moaned as if in reply, and his tliin hairy arms stirred feverishly on 
 the wide patchwork counterpane. 'Kindly she took them in her 
 hands and covered them over. The piUows were bowed in, beaten 
 almost flat ; she tried to arrange them more comfortably, but as 
 she did so he turned and tossed impatiently. His forehead was 
 moist with perspiration, but, fearing to disturb him, she put back 
 the handkerchief she had taken from the pillow, and stood staring 
 vaguely into the shadows that clouded the further end of the ro(bm. 
 Then, regaining her chair, with a weary movement, she picked up 
 the cloth that had fallen from her knees, and slowly continued her 
 work. 
 
 It was, like the counterpane on the bed, a piece of patchwork, 
 and in this instance the squares of a chessboard had been taken as 
 a design. Selecting a fragment of stuff, she trimmed it into the 
 required shape, and with tailer-like precision sewed it into its 
 allotted comer. For fancy work she had not much taste or time, 
 
8 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 but in the long hours she was forced to pass at her husband's 
 bedside she strove thus to utilizie the odds and ends of the shop. 
 
 Nothing was now heard but the methodical click of her needle as 
 it struck the head of her tliimble, and then the long swish of the 
 thread as she drew it through the cloth. The lamp at her elbow 
 burned steadily, and the glare glanced along her arm as she raised it 
 with the large movement of sewing. Wherever the light touched 
 it her hair was blue, and it encircled, like a piece of rich black 
 velvet, the white but too prominent temples ; a dark shadow defined 
 the fine straight nose, hinted at a thin indecision of lips, whilst a 
 broad touch of white marked the weak but not unbeautiful chin. 
 On her knees lay the patchwork, with its jagged edges, and the 
 fioor at her feet was covered with innumerable scraps, making a red 
 and black litter. On the comer of the table lay a book, a well- 
 worn volume in a faded red paper cover. It was a novel she used 
 to read with delight when she was a girl, and, hoping that it might 
 help her to pass away these weary hours, she had sought for it at 
 the bottom of an old trunk ; but it had somehow failed to interest 
 her, and after a few pages she had laid it aside, preferring for dis- 
 traction her accustomed sewing. She was now well awake, and, as 
 she worked, her thoughts turned on things concerning the daily 
 routine of her life. She thought of the tiine when her husband 
 would be well, of the pillow she was making, of how nice it would 
 look in the green armchair, of the much greater likelihood of letting 
 their rooms if they were better furnished, of their new lodger, and 
 of the probability of a quarrel beti^een him and her mother-in-law, 
 Mrs. Ede. So engrossed was she in her musings that she did not 
 notice how difficult and laboured her husband's breathing had 
 become. He had thrown the coverlet from him, his chest heaved, 
 and his breath came from him with a loud wheeze ■ which momen- 
 tarily thickened in sound. When at length she looked up a look 
 of supreme pity passed across her face. Putting her work aside 
 she approached the bed. 
 
 As she did so he opened his eyes. 
 
 " Do you feel bad, dear 2 " she asked in a low voice. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do. I'm sufibcating ; lift me up. I'm going to 
 have a fit ; I hope it won't be a bad one." 
 
 Placing her arms round him she helped him into a sitting 
 position, and then propped up the pillows, so as to form a support 
 for his back. She also took a small red shawl from her shoulders 
 and pinned it round his. Nothing more could then be done but to 
 wait and see how the attack would proceed. Gathering his legs 
 under him he leaned forward snorting like a wounded animal. 
 His face was emaciated, and his dark thick hair fell over his fore- 
 head in sticky masses. From time to time he attempted to cough, 
 but his breath ran short in his throat, and the efforts seemed to 
 exhaust him. At times he had not the strength to separate the 
 saliva from his lips, but as he got rid of the phlegm that oppressed 
 him he appeared to grow a little better, and signed to Kate to 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 9 
 
 remove the basin. She felt no disgust, but only a noble desire to 
 relieve his sufferings. Presently he spoke, and in a deep and husky 
 voice said — 
 
 " Oh, what I have done to merit such suffering ? And it is all 
 
 the fault of that cursed actor ; I wish I had never heard his name." 
 
 "Hush, hush," said Kate, trying to soothe him. "He won't 
 
 interfere with you, and it will bring us a connection which will 
 
 enable us to keep our rooms always let." 
 
 For more than a week past the new lodger had formed the staple 
 subject of conversation in this household. Mrs. Ede, Kate's 
 mother-iu-law, was loud in her protestations that the harbouring of 
 an actor could not but be attended by bad luck. Kate, whose 
 Puritanism was of a less marked kind, only felt a little uneasy. 
 She had inherited the vague distrust of her class against all that 
 was itinerant ; otherwise she was quite unprejudiced. Perhaps at 
 first she had felt inclined to agree with her mother-in-law, but her 
 husband had shown liimseU so stubborn, and had so persistently 
 declared he was not going to keep his rooms empty any longer, 
 that for peace' sake she was fain to side with him. The question 
 had arisen in a very unexpected way. During the whole winter 
 they had been unfortunate with their rooms ; they had made many 
 attempts to get lodgers, had even advertised. Some few people 
 had asked to see the rooms, but they merely made an offer. One 
 lay, however, a man who had come into the shop to buy some 
 paper collars asked Kate if she had any apartments to let. On her 
 replying that she had, they went upstairs, and after a cursory 
 inspection he told her that he was the agent in advance to a 
 travelling opera company, and that if she liked he would recommend 
 her rooms to the sta^e manager — a particular friend of his. The 
 proposition was somewhat startling, but not liking to say no she 
 proposed to refer the matter to her husband. 
 
 At that particular moment Mr. Ede happened to be engaged in a 
 
 violent dispute with his mother, and so angry was he that when 
 
 Mrs. Ede raised her hands to protest against the introduction of an 
 
 actor into the household, he straightway told her that, " If she did 
 
 not like it she might do the other thing." Nothing more was said 
 
 for the present ; the old lady retired in indignation, and Mr. 
 
 Lennox was written to. Kate sympathised alternately with both 
 
 I sides. Mrs. Ede was sturdy in defence of her principles ; Mr. Ede 
 
 1 was petulant and abusive ; and between the two Kate was blown 
 
 i about like a feather in a storm. Daily the argument waxed warmer 
 
 ) until one night, in the middle of a scene characterised by much 
 
 ( biblical quotation, Mr. Ede declared he could stand it no longer, 
 
 and rushed out of the house. In vain the women tried to stop lum, 
 
 I knowing well what the consequences would be. A draught, a slight 
 
 , exposure, amply sufficed to give him a cold, and with him a cold 
 
 ( always ended in an asthmatic attack. And these were often so 
 
 , violent as to lay him up for weeks at a time. In the present 
 
 J instance the result was as foreseen.- When Mr. Ede, bis temper 
 
10 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 grown cooler under the influence of the night air, returned, he was 
 coughing, and the next night found him breathless. His anger had 
 at first vented itself against his mother, whom he refused to see, 
 and thus the whole labour of nursing him was thrown on Kate. 
 She did not grumble at this, but it was terrible to have to listen to 
 him. 
 
 It was Mr. Lennox, and nothing but Mr. Lennox. _ All the 
 pauses in the suffocation were utilised to speak on this important 
 question, and even now Kate, who had not yet perceived that the 
 short respite which the getting rid of the phlegm had given him 
 was coming to an end, expected him to say something concerning 
 the still unknown person. But Mr. Ede did not speak, and, to put 
 herself as it were out of suspense, she said, referring to some 
 previous conversation — 
 
 " I am sure you are right ; the only people in the town who let 
 their rooms are those who have a theatrical connection." 
 
 " Oh, I don't care, I'm going to have a bad night," said Mr. Ede, 
 who now thought only of how he should get his next breath. 
 
 " But you seemed to be getting better," she replied hurriedly. 
 
 "Oh I oh ! I feel it coming on — I am suffocating. Have you got 
 the ether ? " 
 
 Without answering, Kate made a rapid movement towards the 
 table. Snatching the bottle she uncorked it. The sickly odour 
 quietly spread like oil over the close atmosphere of the room ; it 
 made her feel sick, but, mastering her repugnance, she held it to 
 him, and, in the hope of obtaining relief, he inhaled it greedily. 
 But the remedy proved of no avail, and he pushed the botUe away. 
 
 " Oh, these headaches ! My head is splitting," he said, after a 
 deep inspiration which seemed as if it would cost him his life. 
 "Nothing seems to do me any good. Have you got some of those 
 cigarettes ? " 
 
 " I am sorry to say they have not arrived yet. I wrote for them," 
 she replied, hesitating ; " but do you not think — ? " 
 
 Shaking his head, and resenting Kate's assiduities, with trembling 
 fingers he unfastened the shawl she had placed on his shoulders. 
 He did this in order to have his chest entirely free. Then planting 
 his elbows on his knees, with a fixed head and elevated shoulders, 
 he gave himself up to the struggle of taking breath. 
 
 Kate watched him, and at that moment she would have laid down 
 her life to save him from the least of his pains. But it was agony 
 to sit by him, listening to the terrible sobbing, and to know that 
 nothing could be done to relieve him. There he lay before her, 
 helpless in his suffering, moaning piteously. 
 
 She had seen the same scene repeated a hundred times before, 
 but it never seemed to lose any of its horror. In the first month of 
 her marriage she had been frightened almost out of her life by one 
 of these asthmatic attacks. It had come on in the middle of the 
 night, and she remembered well how she had prayed to God that it 
 ..hould not be her fate to see her husband die at her very feet, and 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 11 
 
 in such agony. Now she knew that death was not to be apprehended, 
 and that the paroxysm would wear itself out, but she knew also of 
 the horrors that would have to be endured before the tune of relief 
 came. She could count them upon her fingers — she could see it all 
 as in a vision — a ghostly nightmare that would drag out its long 
 changes until the dawn began to break. Heaving a deep sigh as 
 she anticipated the hours of the night, she laid her hand yearningly 
 on her husband's. It was cold as lead, and he was wet with per- 
 spiration. 
 
 "-Air — air! I'msuff— o — eating!" he sobbed out with a desperate 
 efibrt. 
 
 Kate ran to the door and threw it open. The paroxysm had now 
 reached its height. Resting his elbows well on his knees he gasped 
 many times, but before the inspiration was complete his strength 
 failed him. So exhausted was he that no want but that of breath 
 could have forced him to tiy again ; and the second effort was even 
 more terrible than the first. A great upheaval, a great wrenching 
 and rocking, seemed to be going on within him ; the veins on his 
 forehead were distended, the muscles of his chest laboured, and 
 every minute seemed as if it were going to be his last. However, 
 with a supreme effort he managed to breathe, and then thereiWas a 
 moment of respite, the infinitesimal pause before the process of 
 expiration began. This, although painful, did not seem to distress 
 him to the same extent as the inspiration. But he was obviously 
 thinking of the next struggle, for he breathed avariciously, letting 
 the air that had cost him so much agony pass slowly through his 
 hps. 
 
 At this point of the attack it is impossible for the patient to 
 remain lying down, and as if by instinct, divining that in his present 
 position another inspiration was out of the question, he slipped out 
 of bed and attempted to gain the window. 
 
 A very ghastly scene then followed. Unable to proceed farther 
 than the table where she was iii the lu^bit of sitting, he stopped and 
 placed his hands upon it. So engrossed was he in the labour of 
 breathing that he pushed the paraffin lamp roughly, and it would 
 have fallen had Kate not been there to catch it. She besought of 
 him to say what he wanted, but he made no reply, and continued 
 to drag him.self from one piece of furniture to another. Grasping 
 the back of a chair, with his head thrown back and his shoulders 
 raised to the level of his ears, he iJreathed by jerks, each inspiration 
 being accompanied by a violent spasmodic wrench, violent enough 
 it seemed to break open his chest. The agony he appeared to be in 
 was appalling. Often she ^ad seen him suffer until she thought she 
 would go mad with mingled fear and pity ; but in the present 
 attack there was something unnatural, something that no constitu- 
 ution could endure for long. 
 
 Tremblingly, with apprehension, she watched, afraid to leave 
 him, expecting every moment to see him roll over a corpse. Wildly 
 she asked herself what she was to do, for it seemed to her im- 
 
12 A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 possible that it could be her only duty to stand by him, helplessly 
 wiping away the great drops of perspiration which dripped down 
 his face and glistened at the end of his beard. 
 
 But he had forbidden her ever to send for a doctor, ever to leave 
 him, and for the last five years she had heard that there was no 
 real remedy, as there was no real danger, and that the only thing 
 to do was to wait patiently until the time of relief came. Kate 
 remembered all this, and she strove to reconcile herself to the task 
 of watching these remorseless pantings. She strove to pray, but 
 she could not abstract her thoughts from the piteous object before 
 her. And he was a piteous object. A long pallid face crushed 
 under a shock of dark matted hair, a dirty nightdress draggling 
 round a pair of thin legs, was the meagre reality; but for the 
 moment the grandeur of human suffering covered him, lifted him 
 beyond the pale of loving or loathing, and invested and clothed him 
 in the pity of tragic things. The room, too, seemed transfigured. 
 The bare wide floor, the gaunt bed, the poor walls plastered with 
 religious prints cut from journals, even the ordinary furniture of 
 everyday use — the little washhand-stand with the common delf 
 ewer, the chest of drawers that might have been .'bought for thirty 
 shillings — ^lost their coarseness ; their triviality disappeared, until 
 nothing was seen or felt but this one sufiering man. 
 
 Tlie minutes went, slipping like the iron teeth of a saw over 
 Kate's sensibilities. A hundred times she had run over in her mind 
 the list of remedies she had seen him use. They were few in num- 
 ber, and none of any real service except the cigarettes which she 
 had not. Piteously she asked him to allow her to try iodine, but 
 he could not or would not make her any answer. With his night- 
 shirt torn open, grasping the back of a chair, he stood rigid and 
 terrible as a picture of Pain by Michael Angelo. 
 
 The atmosphere of the room was close and dusty, and bitter with 
 the smell of medicine. Kate had thought of opening the window, 
 but had not done so for fear of givmg him cold ; but he now moved 
 towards it of his own accord. It was cruel to see him struggling, 
 but he resisted any assistance, and alone reached the toilet-table. 
 There, however, he had to stop, and watching like one in a dream, 
 penetrated with her own powerlessness to save or avert, Kate 
 remained crouching by the fireplace without strength to tlunk or 
 act, untU she was suddenly awakened by seeing him relax his hold 
 and slip heavily on the floor. ' 
 
 Instantly rushing towards him and stepping over the body, she 
 tore aside the curtains, raised the sash, and let the cool air into the 
 room. She had then to lift him from the ground. 
 
 By putting forth her whole strength she could get him into a 
 sitting position, but when she attempted to place Mm in a chair he 
 slipped through her arms. There was, therefore, nothing to do but 
 to shriek for help, and hope to awaken her mother-in-law. The 
 echoes rang through the house, and as they died away, appalled she 
 listened to the silence. At length it grew clear that Mrs. Ede could 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 13 
 
 not be awakened, and Kate saw that she would have to trust to 
 herself alone. 
 
 Entwining both arms round the, body, she endeavoured to lift 
 him, but as before, when she got him nearly to the height of a chair, 
 her strength was exhausted, and she was obliged to lay him back 
 again on the floor. After two or three failures she determined to 
 restore liim to consciousness before attempting to move him. 
 Placing a pillow under his head, she sprinkled his face with cold 
 water, and in a few minutes was rewarded by seeing Jjim open hia 
 eyes. 
 
 But it was only for a moment ; after one little stare he slipped 
 back into insensibility, and this was repeated several times. Kate, 
 however, redoubled her efforts, and at last Ralph recovered himself 
 permanently, and she was enabled to place him in a chair. Pale 
 and chill, he sat there striving and struggling with his breath, 
 unable to move, and soaked with perspiration. Then she buttoned 
 his nightshirt across his poor panting chest, and covered his shoulders 
 with the red shawl. He submitted like a child, and it was with a 
 thrill of pleasure that she noticed how the roaring of his breath 
 seemed to soften in sound. 
 
 The night was soft, and a cool breeze blew over the housetops 
 refreshiiigly in their faces. The danger of his catching cold again 
 was very great, but as he would not consent to return to bed, she 
 could do no more than cover him up as well and warmly as possible. 
 For this purpose she fetched a blanket from her bed in the next 
 room, wrapped it firmly round and tucked it under his legs. He 
 then appeared to be pretty comfortable and, although stUl unable to 
 speak, sat quietly in his chair. With a sentiment of real tenderness 
 she took his hand in hers, and as she looked at him she felt her 
 heart grow larger. 
 
 It was one of those simple and ardent emotions that spring from 
 the human heart like flowers from the earth. Sitting by him she 
 felt quite glad, and her eyes grew soft with the happiness that 
 welled, bright like a spring of pure water, up through her mind. 
 He was her husband ; he had sufiered terribly, and was now getting 
 better ; and she was his wife, whose duty it was to attend him. 
 She only wished he would allow her to love him a little better. 
 But against her wiU, facts pierced through this luminous mist of 
 sentiment, and she could not help remembering how petulant he 
 was with her, how utterly all her wishes were disregarded. " What 
 a pity he is not a little different," she thought ; and certain ro- 
 mantic recollections flashed across her faintly and dimly, for they 
 were too far distant to be clear, the time was too pressing for them 
 to endure, and when she looked at liim and saw how he suffered, 
 all other thoughts were once more drowned and swept away. She 
 forgot how he often rendered her life miserable, well nigh unbear- 
 able, by small vices, faults that defy definition, unending selfishness 
 and unceasing irritability. But now all dissatisfaction and bitter- 
 nesses were again merged into a sentiment that was akin to love ; 
 
14 A MUMMER'S WIFE. . 
 
 and in this time of physical degradation he possessed her perhaps 
 more truly, more perfectly, than even in his best moments of 
 health. 
 
 But her life was one of work, not of musing, and there was 
 plenty for her to attend to. Ralph would certainly not be able to 
 leave his chair for some time yet ; she had wrapped him up com- 
 fortably in a blanket, she could do no niore, and whilst he was 
 gradually recovering it would be as well to tidy up the room a bit. 
 There were slops to empty, and he would never be able to sleep in 
 a bed that he had been lying in all day. 
 
 This was important, for he generally got a little ease towards 
 morning, particularly after a bad attack. So, hoping that the 
 present occasion would not prove an exception, Kate set to work to 
 make the bed. Resolving to do this thorouglily, she turned the 
 mattress over, beating it and shaking it with all her force. She did 
 the same with the pillows, and fearing that there might be a few 
 crumbs sticking to the sheets, she shook them out several times. 
 
 When the last crease had been carefully smoothed away she 
 went back to her husband. In reply to her many questions he 
 only motioned her to shut the window, and so impatiently that she 
 feared he would reproach her for having left it open so long. 
 
 Mr. Ede, although he could not yet speak or even breathe 
 without much discomfort, was obviously better. The violence of 
 the paroxysm had passed, and he eventually allowed her to lead 
 him back to _bed. There she overwhelmed him with little atten- 
 tions. She insisted on being allowed to paint his back with iodine, 
 although he did not believe in the remedy ; and on his saying he 
 was thirsty she went groping down the narrow stairs to the 
 kitchen, hunted for the matches in the dark,, lighted a spirit-lamp, 
 and made him a hot drink. 
 
 He drank it, however, without a word or look of thoughtfubiess, 
 and she felt a little disappointed. 
 
 These duties of the sick-room were followed by the dreariness of 
 a long vigil. She was now wholly tired. Whilst she had anything 
 to do she could bear up ; but to sit silently watching through 
 half -closed eyelids the clouded outline of a stooping figure in the 
 shadow of the bed, watching with aching eyes the red glimmer of 
 the lamp with its solitary round of light above it on the darkened 
 ceiling, and listening with frightened ears to the long wheezing of 
 the asthmatic, was a terrible ordeal. 
 
 She had had very little sleep for the last two nights, and for the 
 present she saw no prospect of being able to leave him. He did 
 not seem to grow better. 
 
 For some time she had not noticed any change in his appearance. 
 Now and again he would lie down, but he soon" began to choke and 
 the necessity of breathing would force him into a sitting position. 
 And even when there came to him a short moment of respite, he 
 only used it to bemoan his evil fortune. Leaning over the side of 
 the bed, in an agonizing voice he would murmur — 
 
A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 15 
 
 " Oh, will this ever end ? Why did you leave that window open 
 so long ? I am sure it has made me worse." 
 
 These complainings wounded Kate's feelings, and the transient 
 glow of tenderness she had felt for him was now lost in an utter 
 sense of lassitude. Her thoughts slipped and faded into a dreamy 
 confusion, and in her ears his asthmatic breathing throbbed like 
 the sound of distant falling waters. Sometimes the noise would 
 awake her, and when she opened her eyes she would look at him, 
 fearing vaguely that he would reproach her with neglect. But a 
 glance sufficed to reassure her on this point. In his usual position, 
 with his elbows on his knees, and an expression of extreme distress 
 on his face, he laboured for breath, quite unconscious of what was 
 passing around him. Seeing this, she would lie back to be blijided 
 again by the soft veils of forgetfulness in whose folds she felt her- 
 self drifting away. A great blurred heavy thought, that she would 
 awake to find her husband a corpse, oppressed her ; she reasoned 
 with it obtusely, until the last shadow of sleep fell upon her. 
 
 How long she slept she could not say, but suddenly she was 
 awakened by her husband's voice calling to her peevishly. She 
 looked up abruptly and seeing what had happened, said — 
 
 " Oh, I am so sorry, Ralph, but I could not help it. I was so 
 very tired — " 
 
 Mr. Ede was lying down, and the dreadful dyspnoea was now 1 
 confined to a low wheezing. He had been looking at his wife for 
 some time, but as the remembrance of what he had sufiered pierced 
 through his thoughts the expression of his face changed. He had 
 at first hesitated before awakening her, but as the door had been 
 left. open he fancied he felt a draught ; he could not resist the 
 temptation of hearing what she would have to say in defence of her 
 conduct. 
 
 " Do I want anything 1 " he said, " there is the door wide open, 
 and I might have died for anything you would have known or 
 cared." 
 
 Tliis unmerited reproof brought colour to Kate's face. She 
 walked across the room without a word and shut the door, but as 
 she came back to her place she said — 
 
 " I do not know how you can speak to me so ungratefully." 
 
 " Prop me up ; if I lie so low I shall get bad again. I wish you 
 had a touch of this asthma yourself, and you would know then 
 what it is to be left alone for several hours." 
 
 Frightened at this accusation, Kate looked at the clock, and.saw 
 she had been asleep a little' more than half an hour. But without 
 contradicting him she arranged the pillows and settled the blankets 
 up under his chin. Then thinking it would perhaps be advisable 
 to say something, she congratulated him on seeming so much 
 
 1)6 tit 6F 
 
 "Better! If I am better it is no thanks to you," he said. 
 
 " You must have been mad to have left the window open so long." 
 
 " You wanted it open ; you know very well that when you are 
 
16 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 very bad liie that you must have change of air. The room was so 
 
 " Yes, but that is no reason for leaving it open half an hour." 
 
 "I offered to shut it and you wouldn't let me." . 
 
 "I daresay you are sick of nursing me, and would like to get rid 
 of me. The window was not a bad dodge." 
 
 Kate remained silent, being too indignant for the moment to 
 think 6f replying ; but it was evident from her manner that she 
 would not be able to contain herself much longer. He had hurt 
 her to the quick, and her brown eyes swam with tears. He, with 
 his head laid back upon the built-up pillows, fumed slowly, trying 
 to find new matter for reproach, and breath wherewith to explain 
 it. Jitt last he thought of the cigarettes. 
 
 " Even supposing that you did not remember how long you left 
 the window open, I cannot understand how you forgot to send for 
 the cigarettes. You know well enough that it is the only thing 
 that relieves me when I am in this state. I think it was most 
 unfeeling— yes, most unfeeling ! " Having said so much he leaned 
 forward to get breath, and coughed. 
 
 " You had better lie still, Ralph ; you will only make yourself 
 bad again. Now that you feel a little easier you should try to go 
 to sleep." 
 
 So far she got without betraying any emotion, but as she con- 
 tinued to advise him her voice began to tremble, her presence of 
 mind to forsake her, and she burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 " I don't know how yon can treat me as you do," she said, sob- 
 bing hysterically. " I do everything — I give up my night's rest to 
 you, I work hard all day for you, and in return I only receive hard 
 words. Oh ! it is no use," she said, "I can bear it no longer ; you 
 will have to get some one else to mind you." 
 
 This outburst of passion came suddenly upon Mr. Ede, and for 
 some time he was at a loss how to proceed. At last, feeling a little 
 sorry, he resolved to make it up, and putting out his hand to her he 
 said — 
 
 ' ' Now, don't cry, Kate ; perhaps I was wrong in speaking so 
 crossly. I didn't mean all I said — it is this horrid asthma." 
 
 " Oh ! I can bear anything but to be told I neglect you — and 
 when I stop up watching you three nights running — " 
 
 These little quarrels were of constant occurrence. Irritable by 
 nature, and rendered doubly so by the character of his complaint, 
 the invalid at times found it impossible to restrain his Ul-humour ; 
 but he was not entirely bad ; he had inherited a touch of kindliearted- 
 ness from his mother, and being now moved by Kate's tears he said — 
 
 " That's quite true, and I'm sorry for what I said ; you are a 
 good little nurse. I won't scold you again. Make it up." 
 
 But Kate found it hard to forget merely because Ralph desired it 
 and for some time she refused to listen to his expostulations and 
 walked about the room crying. 
 
 put her anger could not long resist the dead weight of sleep that 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 17 
 
 was oppressing her, and eventually she came and sat down in her 
 old place by Mm. The next step to reconciliation was more easy. 
 Kate, although quick-tempered, was not vindictive, and at last, amid 
 some hysterical sobbing, peace was restored. Then Mr. Bde drifted 
 into speaking of his asthma. He told her how he had really fancied 
 he was going to die, and when she expressed her fear and regret he 
 hastened to assure her that no one had ever died of asthma — that a 
 man might live fifty, sixty, or seventy years, suffering all the while 
 from the complaint. It did you no harm ; it was merely something 
 awful. In this way he rambled on until werds and ideas together 
 faUed him, and he fell asleep. With a sigh of relief Kate rose to 
 her feet, and seeing that he was settled for the night she turned to 
 leave him, and passed into her room with a slow and dragging 
 movement. But the place had a look so cold and unrestful that it 
 pierced through even her sense of weariness. For a moment she 
 stood trying to urge her tired brains to think of what she should do. 
 At last, remembering that she could get a pUlow from the room 
 they reserved for letting, she turned to go. 
 
 [Facing their room, and only divided by the very narrowest of pass- 
 ages, was the stranger's apartment. 
 
 Both doors were approached by a couple of steps, which so re- 
 duced the space that were two people to meet on the landing one 
 would have to give way to the other. Mr. and Mrs. Ede found this 
 proximity to their lodger, when they had one, somewhat incon- 
 venient, but, as he said — 
 
 " One didn't get ten shillings a week for nothing." 
 
 Kate lingered a moment on the threshold, and then, with the hand 
 in which she held the novel she had been readimg, she picked up her 
 skirt and stepped across the way. 
 
18 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 For the next few hours Kate lay buried in a dull, deep sleep. The 
 steam tramways had been wHstling for an hour or more, but tliey 
 did not awake her, and it was not imtil nine o'clock that she became 
 conscious that a dark figure was passing through the twilight of the 
 room. At first she could not determine who it was, but as the blinds 
 were suddenly drawn up and a flood of sunlight poured across the 
 bed, she fell back amid the pillows, having recognised her mother- 
 in-law in a painful moment of semi-blindness. The old woman car- 
 ried a slop-pail, which she nearly dropped, so surprised was she to 
 find Etate in the stranger's room. 
 
 " But how did you get here ? " she said hastily. 
 
 " Oh, I had to give Ralph my pillow, and when he went to sleep 
 I came to fetch one out of the bedroom here ; and then I thought I 
 would be more comfortable here— I was too tired to go back again — 
 I don't know how it was — what does it matter ? " 
 
 Kate, who was stupefied with sleep, had answered so crossly that 
 Mrs. Bde did not speak for some time ; at last, at the end of a long 
 silence, she said — 
 
 " Then he had a very bad night ? " 
 
 "Dreadful ! " returned Kate. "I never was so much frightened 
 in my life. " 
 
 "And how did the fit come on ? " asked Mrs. Ede, deeply interested. 
 
 " Oh, I can't tell you now," said Kate. " I am so tired. I am 
 aching all over." 
 
 " WeU, then, I will bring you up your breakfast. And you do 
 look tired ! It will do you good to remain in bed." 
 
 " Bring me up my breakfast ! Then, what time is it ? " said Kate 
 sitting up in bed with a start. 
 
 " What does it matter what the time is ? If you are tired, lie still ; 
 I'll see that everything is right.'' 
 
 " But I have promised Mrs. Barnes her dress by to-morrow night. 
 Oh, my goodness ! I shall never get it done. Do tell me what time 
 it is?" 
 
 " Well it is just nine," the old woman answered apologetically ; 
 " but Mrs. Barnes will have to wait ; you can't kill yourself. It is 
 a great shame of Ralph to have you sitting up when I could look 
 after him just as well, and all because of that horrid man. " 
 
 "Oh, don't, mother," said Kate, who knew that on that subject 
 
A MTJMMEE'S WIFE, 19 
 
 Mrs. Ede could apeak for a good half-hour ; and remembering all 
 that had been endured for the sake of the letting of their rooms, 
 she took the old woman's coarse hands in hers, and looking earnestly 
 ' in her face, said — 
 
 " You know, mother, I have a hard time of it, and I try to bear 
 up as well as I can. You are the only person I have to help me. 
 Well, don't you turn against me. Ralph has set his mind on having 
 the rooms let. Mr. Lennox is com'ng here to-day ; it is all settled. 
 Will you promise me not to do anything to unsettle it 1 Balph will 
 be so angry if Mr. Lennox is not satisfied, and when he is angry you 
 know how miserable it makes us all. While Mr. Lennox is here, 
 will you try to make him comfortable 1 A great deal depends on 
 you, for I have my dressmaking to attend to, and I cannot be always 
 after him. Now will you do this thing for me ? " 
 
 They were the greatest friepds, and Kate often thought that if 
 she had not this steadfast, kind-hearted woman to lean on that she 
 would never be able to bear up against the hardships of her life ; 
 and in her turn Mrs. Ede loved her daughter-in-law dearly, perhaps 
 better even than she did her own son. 'This working woman's prin- 
 ciples were as strong as they were narrow, and her sorrow arose with 
 a gulp in her throat as she listened to Kate's request. She had al- 
 ready opposed by every means in her power the letting of the rooms 
 to actors, and had tolerably well satisfied her conscience by so doing. 
 But her position in this household, although strong (she had ah an- 
 nuity of thirty pounds a year), was not impregnable, and she felt 
 that it would perhaps be better to give way rather than risk a defi- 
 nite family rupture. Still she found it very hard when the time 
 came to make a formal surrender. Kate's entreaties were, however, 
 difficult to resist, and after a moment or so of indecision she 
 said — 
 
 " I do not believe that money made out of such people can bring 
 anyone any luck, but since you aU wish it, I suppose I- must give 
 way. But you won't be able to say I didn't warn you." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know you did," replied Kate ; "but will you pro- 
 mise not to be disagreeable to lum 1 Since we cannot prevent his 
 coming, will you promise that whilst he is here you will attend to 
 him just as you did to the other gentleman ? " 
 
 After some hesitation, she said: "I shall say nothing to him, 
 and if he doesn't make the house a disgrace, I shall be well 
 satisfied." 
 
 " How do you mean a disgrace ? " 
 
 "Don't you know, my dear, that actors have always a lot of 
 women after them, and I for one am not going to attend on wenches 
 like them. If I had my way I'd whip such people until I slashed 
 all the wickedness out of them." _ ^_ 
 
 "But he won't bring any women here ; we won't allow it, said 
 Kate, a little shocked, and she strove to think how they should put 
 a stop to such behaviour. " If Mr. Lennox does not conduct him- 
 self properly — " 
 
it) A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 •'Of course, I shall try to do my duty, and if Mr. Lennox respects 
 himself I shall try to respect him. " 
 
 Mrs. Ede spoke these words very hesitatingly, but the admission 
 bhat she possibly might respect Mr. Lennos satisfied Kate, and not 
 wishing to press the matter further, she said, suddenly referring to 
 their previous conversation : 
 
 " But didn't you say that it was nine o'clock ? " 
 
 " It is more than nine now." 
 
 " Oh Lord, oh Lord ! how late I am ! I suppose the two little 
 girls are here ? " 
 
 "They arrived just as I was coming upstairs, but I set them to 
 work." 
 
 " I wish you'd get the tea ready, and you might make some 
 buttered toast ; Ralph would like some, and so should I, for the 
 matter of that." 
 
 Then Mr. Ede's voice was heard calling, and, without waiting for 
 an answer, Kate hurried to him. Wheni she entered he had his 
 back turned to her, and was endeavouring to settle himself. Seeing 
 what was wanted, she hastened to his assistance. 
 
 " Where were you last night ? " he asked, after a pause. 
 
 " I slept in the stranger's room ; I thought you would not require 
 me. I was more comfortable there. The bed in the back room is 
 scarcely bearable." 
 
 He did not answer at once, but continued to breathe heavily in a 
 way that made her fear he was going to have another attack. 
 
 Kaije looked at him earnestly. Although she had never loved 
 him, his utter dependence upon her had endeared him to her. She 
 had known nobody else ; other men had only passed before her like 
 phantoms ; of him at least she had a distinct knowledge, and had he 
 been a little kinder he would have satisfied her. Her dreams did 
 not fly high, and now as she sat by him, holding his clammy hand, 
 she thought she would have felt happy were she sure of even so 
 much affection. A little love would have made her life so much 
 pleasanter. It did not matter who gave it ; she sighed for a little, 
 ever so little. 
 
 "Is mother in a great rage because I won't let her in ? " he said 
 presently. 
 
 " She is very much cut up about it, dear ; you know she loves 
 you better than anyone in tlie world. You would dp well to make 
 it up with her." 
 
 " Well, perhaps I was wrong," he said after a time, and with good 
 humour, " but she annoys me so dreadfully.. She will interfere in 
 everything ; as if I hadn't a right to let my rooms to whom I pleased. 
 Of course she pays for all she has here, but I would much sooner she 
 left us than be lorded over in that way." 
 
 " She does not want to lord it over you, dear. It is all arranged. 
 She promised me just now she would say nothing more about it '; 
 indeed she promised she would be quite agreeable to Mr. Lennox.'' 
 
 At this announcement of submission to his will the invalid smiled 
 
A MUMMlSK'S WIFE. 21 
 
 cheerfully. He declared he was right ; he was sure Mr. Lennox 
 would turn out very well ; that the only thing he regretted was the 
 trouble an extra person in the house would give his wife an4 
 mother. 
 
 " But I shall soon be well," he said, with a faint show of irony. 
 I fancy the worst is over now, and I daresay I shall be downstairs 
 looking after the shop in a week, and that will take a lot off your 
 hands." 
 
 Against such mprudence Kate protested. She declared that 
 they could get on without him, owing, she was careful to add, so as 
 not to offend his vanity, to the terrible slackness of business. This 
 led to a small conversation concerning the state of trade, and then 
 Kate suggested that she should go and see after his breakfast. Mr. 
 Ede had no objection to offer, so bidding him good-bye for the 
 moment she went downstairs. When she entered the front kitchen 
 she found Annie assisting Mrs. Ede to make the toast. Lizzie stood 
 at the table buttering it and piling it upon a plate. As it was 
 against Kate's theories that apprentices shomd assist in the house- 
 hold work, the two brown-haired little girls drew their chairs to the 
 table under the window and commenced sewing ; Kate and Mrs. 
 Ede coming to and from the kitchen arranged the table for break- 
 fast. "When all was ready Mrs. Ede remembered that she had to 
 make her peace with her son, and, seizing the tray, she went 
 upstairs. 
 
 While she was away Kate sat down wearily on the red calico- 
 covered sofa. Like an elongated arm-chair, it looked quaint, neat, 
 and dumpty, pushed up against the wall between the black fireplace 
 on the right and the httle window shaded with the muslin blinds, 
 under which a pot of greenstuff bloomed freshly. Overpowered by 
 the labour and excitement of the night, Kate lay back thinking 
 vaguely. Her cup of hot tea was uppermost in her mind, and she 
 hoped that Mrs. Ede would not keep her long waiting. Then as 
 her thoughts detached themselves, she remembered the actor whom 
 they expected that afternoon. The annoyances which he had 
 unconsciously caused her had linked him to her in a curious way, 
 and in the sensation of nearness that each succeeding hour magnified, 
 all her prejudices vanished, and she wondered who this being Was 
 who, even before she had seen him, had brought so much trouble 
 into her life. As the word trouble went through her mind she 
 paused, arrested by a passing feeling of sentimentality ; but it 
 explained nothing, defined nothing, only touched her as a breeze 
 does a flower, and floated away. The dreamy warmth of the fare 
 absorbed her more direct feelings, and for some moments she dozed 
 in a haze of dim sensuousness and emotive numbness. As m a 
 dusky glass she saw herseH a tender, loving, but unhappy woman ; 
 by her side were her querulous husband and her kuid-mmded 
 mother-in-law, and then there was a phantom she could not 
 determine, and behind it something into which she could not see. 
 Was it a distant country ?— was it a scene of revelry 1 Impossible 
 
A MUMMBE'S WIFE- 
 
 I say, for whenever she attempted to find definite shapes in the 
 owing colours, they vanished in a blurred confusion. 
 But amid these fleeting visions there was one shape that 
 irticularly interested her, and she pursued it tenaciously, until in 
 desperate effort to define its features she awoke with u, start ; and, 
 sappointed to find she had been dreaming, she spoke more crossly 
 lan she intended to the little girls, who had pulled aside the 
 irtain and were intently examining the huge theatrical poster 
 hich adorned the corner of the lane. But as she scolded she could 
 3t help smiling, for she saw how her dream had been made out of 
 le red and blue dresses of the picture. 
 
 The arrival of each new company in the town was announced 
 ictorially on tliis comer wall, and, in the course of the year, pretty 
 ell all the vicissitudes to which human life is liable received an 
 nple illustration there. One week showed wrecks at sea, robberies 
 a the highways, prisoners perishing in dungeons ; and these 
 irrible events were interlarded with green lanes and lovers, babies, 
 .owing hearths, and heroic young husbands. The opera companies 
 ere, however, more frivolously inclined. Their pictures were con- 
 imed only with crowds of strangely dressed people and gallants 
 issing their hands to ladies standing on balconies. 
 
 In the pauses of their work the little girls examined these pictures 
 id commented on them ; and on Saturdays it was a matter of the 
 eenest speculation what the following week would bring them, 
 izzie preferred exciting scenes of murder and arson, while Aimie 
 as moved more by passionate pleadings, leavetakings, and declara- 
 ons of unalterable affection. These differences of taste often gave 
 se to little bickerings, and last week there had been much 
 rophesying as to whether the tragic or the sentimental element 
 ould prove the staple ingredient of next week's illustrations, 
 lizzie had voted for robbers and mountains, Annie for lovers and a 
 ice cottage. And, remembering their little dispute, Kate, who 
 :om the sofa could only see some violet and green dresses, said : 
 
 " Well, dears, is it a robber or a sweetheart ? " 
 
 " We are not sure," exclaimed both children in a disappointed 
 ane of voice ; " we can't make the picture out." Then Lizzie, who 
 a,red little for uncertainties, said : 
 
 " It isn't a nice picture at all ; it is all mixed up." 
 
 "Not a nice picture at aU, and all mixed up?" said Kate, 
 railing, yet interested in the conversation. "And all mixed up ; 
 .ow is that 'I I must see if I can make it out myself." 
 
 The huge poster contained some figures nearly life-size. It 
 howed a young girl in a bridal dress and wreath struggling between 
 wo police agents who had arrested her in a market place of old 
 ime, in a strangely costumed crowd, who were clamouring violently, 
 .he poor bridegroom was being held back by his friends ; a hand- 
 ome young man in knee breeches and a cocked hat watched the 
 )roceedings cynically in the right hand corner, whilst on the left a 
 )ig fat man frantically endeavoured to recover his wig, which had 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 23 
 
 been lost in the mSye. Tlus glaring advertisement was lieaded 
 "Morton and Cox's Operatic Company," and concluded with the 
 annoonoement tliat Madame Angot would be played at the Queen's 
 Theatre, Hanley. After a few moments spent in examining the 
 picture, which puzzled her quite as much as it did the children, 
 Kate suggested that it must have something to do with France. 
 " Angot isn't an English name, and tlie dresses look French." 
 This explanation rendered the children thoughtful ; but although 
 they willingly admitted that the unintelligibility of the picture was 
 fully accounted for by the fact tlmt it was a French one, they did 
 not seem to grow less anxious to solve the riddle. 
 
 " I know what it means," cried Lizzie, who had in the meanwhile 
 been thinking how the picture could be explained into signifying a 
 scene of atrocious cruelty; "you see that old chap on the rights 
 Well, he is a rich man who has sent the two policemen to carry the 
 bride to liis castle, and it is the young fellow in the corner who has 
 betrayed them." 
 
 The ingenuity of this explanation took Kate and Annie so much 
 by surprise that for the moment they could not attempt to con- 
 trovert it, and remained silent whilst Lizzie looked at them 
 triumphantly. The more they examined the picture the more clear 
 did it appear that Lizzie was right. At the end of a long pause 
 Kate said — 
 
 " Anyhow, we shall soon know, for one of the actors of the com- 
 pany is coming here to lodge, and we will ask him." 
 
 " A real actor coming here to lodge ? " exclaimed Annie. " Oh, 
 how nice that will be ! And will he take us to see the play ! " 
 
 " How sUly of you, Annie," said Lizzie, who, proud of her 
 successful explanation of the poster, was a little inclined to think 
 she knew aU about actors. " How can he take us to the play 1 
 Isn't he going to act it himself 1 But do teU me, Mrs; Ede, is he 
 the one in the cocked hat ? " 
 
 " I hope at all events he isn't the fat man who has lost his wig," 
 said Annie, looking moumf uUy at her elder sister. 
 
 "I don't know which of those gentlemen is coming here. For 
 all I know it may be the policeman," Kate added mahciously. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Ede, I hope not ! " exclaimed Annie and Lizzie with 
 one accord. , . , . 
 
 Kate smiled at the children's earnestness, and wishmg to keep 
 up the joke, said — 
 
 "You know, my dear, they are only sham policemen, and are, I 
 daresay, very nice gentlemen in reality." 
 
 Annie and Lizzie hung down their heads ; it was evident they 
 had no sympathies with policemen, not even with sham ones_ 
 
 ' ' But if it isn't a policeman, who would you like it to be, Lizzie ? " 
 
 "Oh, the man in the cocked hat," replied Lizzie without 
 hesitation. 
 
 " And you, Annie ? " 
 
24 A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 Annie looked puzzled, and after a moment said, with a sliglit 
 whimpei; — 
 
 " Lizzie always takes what I want . I was just going — — ;" 
 
 " Oh yes, miss, we know all about that," returned Lizzie 
 derisively. " Annie never can choose for herself, she always tries 
 to imitate me. She'll have the man who's lost his wig ! Oh yes, 
 yes ! isn't it so, Mrs. Ede ? Isn't Annie going to many the man 
 who's lost his wig 1" 
 
 Annie's eyelids trembled with tears at these bitter sallies, but as 
 she happened at that moment to catch sight of the young man in 
 white, she declared triumphantly that she would choose him. 
 
 " Well done, Annie," said Kate laughing as she patted the child's 
 curls, but in so doing her eyes fell on the neglected apron, and 
 seeing how crookedly it was being hemmed she said reprovingly — 
 
 " Oh, my dear, this is very bad ; you must go back, undo all you 
 have done this morning, and get it quite straight." 
 
 Bending over the table she undid some three or four inches of 
 the sewing, and then showed the child how the hem was to be 
 turned in. She did this methodically, all the while thinking of 
 what had just been said. A smile moved round the comers of her 
 thin lips ; it amused her to wonder which of these men was coming 
 to lodge at her house. At this moment Mrs. Ede arrived upon the 
 scene ; she entered expostulating, but Kate could only catch the 
 words "waiting "and "breakfast cold "and "sorry." The little 
 girls, who lived in a constant stale of awe of the old lady, returned 
 to their work. The two women sat down to breakfast. 
 
 "How could you," exclaimed Mrs. Ede, "think of leaving tlie 
 window open so long 1 He might have caught his death. He says 
 he was very bad last night." 
 
 " Oh, dreadful," said Kate. "I never was so frightened in all 
 my life ; I called and called for you, but nothing would awake you." 
 
 This charge of sleepyheadedness seemed to discountenance her, 
 but to hold her tongue was an impossibility, and during breakfast 
 she jerked out comments on things in general and the actor in 
 particular. She hoped that he wouldn't give them much trouble ; 
 above all that he wouldn't keep late hours, and she questioned 
 Kate minutely as to what was gomg to be done regarding the latch 
 key. She referred also to the evils of bad company, and trusted 
 that because they had an actor in the house that that wouldn't be a 
 reason for frequenting the theatre and falling into idle habits. 
 Then the conversation turned on Miss Hender, Kate's assistant. 
 This young woman was one of Mrs. Ede's particular dislikes. Of 
 her moral character she had the gravest doubts, for what could be 
 expected of a person who turned up her nose when she was asked 
 to stay and attend evening prayers, and who kept company w;ith a 
 stage carpenter ? 
 
 She did not cease talking until Miss Hender entered. There 
 were then many apologies for being an hour behind time, but she 
 really could not help it. Her sistsr had been very ill, and she had 
 
A MUMMER'S WlfE. 26 
 
 been obliged to sit up with her all night. Mrs. Ede smiled at this 
 explanation, and withdrew into the shop, leaving Miss Hender to 
 gaze after her in scorn. Kate doubted the truth of the excuse put 
 forward by her assistant, but she said nothing, and the conversation 
 shortly after turned on the aprons the little girls were making. 
 She explained that she had bought a dozen of a traveller who had 
 called upon her, and she had sold two yesterday and three the day 
 before, so she thought she could not do better than cut out a few 
 more after the same pattern. 
 
 " I quite agree with you, ma'am," replied Miss Hender sinartly, 
 " they are quite pretty, nice, and tasty, without being common." 
 
 Miss Hender tried hard to think what else she could say that 
 would delay, were it only for a few minutes, the inevitable going 
 up to the workroom. Kate herself felt lazy ; it was too soon after 
 breakfast, but she remembered that Mrs. Barnes's dress had been 
 promised for Tuesday morning, and, awaking, from her reverie with 
 a start, she said — 
 
 " Come, we are wasting aU the morning ; we must get on with 
 Mrs. Barnes's dress." They went up stairs. 
 
 Miss Hender was a stout, buxom, carrotty -haired girl of twenty, 
 w^o worked solely in order to have money to spend when she went 
 out to enjoy herself with the stage carpenter. She was always full 
 of information concerning things theatrical, and she considered it 
 an unfortunate circumstance that her employer took so little 
 interest in the big red house in Queen Street. Such funny things 
 were continually happening there, and she was sure that the hours 
 in the workroom would not seem half so long if Kate would wake 
 up a bit, go to the play, and chat about what was going on in the 
 town. It seemed incredible to Miss Hender that anyone could 
 exist who did not go to the theatre above twice in the year. Be- 
 sides, there was that horrid old woman always hanging about, with 
 religion and salvation. It made her (Miss Hender) feel sick. She ||| 
 hadja't> time for such things, and as. for BUI, he said it was all 
 "Tommy rot." Beyond these excellent reasons for disliking Mrs. 
 Ede, she suspected that " the hag," as she called her, had tried to 
 get her dismissed. This conviction afforded Miss Hender much 
 satisfaction, and when she had heard that there was a question of 
 admitting an actor into the house as a lodger, she had not failed to 
 suggest that no one in the town could hope to keep their rooms let 
 except through a theatrical connection. 
 
 Miss Hender, although a lazy and dissolute girl, was an excellent 
 workwoman, and seeing from Kate's manner that the time had not 
 come for conversation, she applied herself diligently to her business. 
 
 Placing the two side-seams and the back under the needle, she 
 gave the wheel a turn, and then worked the machine with her feet. 
 Eapidlythe little steel needle darted up and down into the glistening 
 silk, which Miss Hender's thick hands pushed methodically forward. 
 The work was too delicate to admit of any distraction, so for some 
 time nothing was heard but the clinking rattle of the machine 
 
26 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 and the " swishing " of the silk as Kate drew it across the table 
 and snipped it with the scissors which hung from her waist. 
 
 But at the end of about half an hour the work came to a pause. 
 Miss Hender had finished sewing up the body and had tacked on 
 the facings. Kate had cut out the skirt and basted it together. 
 The time, therefore, had arrived for interchanging a few -words. 
 Her promise to Mrs. Barnes had been the subject of her thoughts. 
 Lifting her head from her work, she asked Miss Hender if she 
 could remain that evening and do a little overtime. Miss Hender 
 said she was very sorry, but it was the first night of the new opera 
 company, and she had passes for the pit, and had promised to take 
 a friend with her. She would, therefore; have to hurry away a 
 little before .six, so as to have her tea and be dressed in time. 
 
 " Well, I don't know what I shall do," said Kate, sorrowfully, 
 "As for myself, I simply couldn't pass another night out of bed. 
 You know I was up minding my husband all night. Attending a 
 sick man, and one as cross as Ralph, is not very nice, I can assure 
 you." 
 
 Miss Hender congratulated herself inwardly that Bill was never 
 likely to want much attendance. 
 
 " I think you had better tell Mrs. Barnes that she can't expect 
 the dress ; it will be impossible to get it done in the time. I'd be 
 delighted to help you, but I couldnit disappoint my little friend. 
 Besides, you have Mr. Lennox coming here to-day ; you'll have to 
 look after the rooms. You can't get the dress done by to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 Miss Hender had been waiting for a long time for an opportunity 
 to lead up to Mr. Lennox. 
 
 " Oh, dear me 1 " said Kate," I had forgotten him, and he'll be 
 coming this afternoon, and may want some dinner, and I'll have to 
 help mother."' 
 
 "They always have dinner in the afternoon,'' said Miss Hender, 
 with a feeling of pride at being able to speak authoritatively on the 
 ways and' habits of actors. 
 
 " Do they? " replied Kate, reflectively ; and then, suddenly re- 
 membering her promise to the little girls, she said — 
 ' ' But do you know what part he takes in the play ? " 
 Miss Hender smiled. She always looked pleased when questioned 
 about the theatre, but on this occasion her pleasure was not un- 
 mingled with regret. AU the stage carpenter had been able to tell 
 her about the company was that it was one of the best travelling ; 
 that Frank Bret, the tenor, was supposed to have a wonderful 
 voice ; that the amount of presents he received in each town from 
 ladies in the upper ranks of society would set up a small shop ; 
 and with a greedy-looking smile on her face she concluded — 
 " 'Tis said that they'd, sell the shoes off their feet for him." 
 Kate laughed, at the. same time trying to assume the appearance 
 of being shocked. Miss Hender continued her comments. Tlie 
 stage carpenter had also informed her that Joe Mortimer's per- 
 
A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 27 
 
 formance in the Cloches was extraordinary — that he invariably 
 brought the house down iia his big scene with the gold : and that 
 Luw Leslie was the best Clairette going. 
 
 Now that they were going to have an actor lodging in their 
 house, Kate felt a certain interest in hearing whaf such people were 
 like ; and she congratulated herself that it was not Mr. Lennox 
 whom the ladies ran after ; while Miss Hender gossipped about all 
 she had, or imagined she had, heard. Suddenly Kate remembered 
 that her question relating to Mr. Lennox had remained unanswered. 
 
 " But you have not told me what part Mr. Lermox plays. Per- 
 haps he is the man in white who is being dragged away from his 
 bride ? " 
 
 In making this suggestion her thoughts reverted to what the 
 little girls had said on the subject, and without quite knowing why, 
 she now began to hope that she would find Mr. Lennox Bomothing 
 that might command admiration. 
 
 Miss Hender thought of him as a sort of avatar who was coming 
 to herald a new age — an age made up of drinks, laughter, and 
 coarse jokes, and the suggestion coming from her mistress that he 
 might be going to play the part of the bridegroom had so astonished 
 her that she could only raise her head from her sewing and wait 
 for an explanation. Divining the cause of her embarrassment, 
 Kate said, laughing — 
 
 " I have been examining the big picture ; the little girls were so 
 curious to know what it meant. " 
 
 The explanation seemed to disappoint Miss Hender. However, 
 at the end of a long sUenoe she said, like a person after mature re- 
 flection — 
 
 " Yes, he may play that part ; it is called Pom — Pom — Pouct — I 
 can't pronounce it right, it is French. But in any case you'll find him 
 very nice. All theatre people are nice. The other day I went behind 
 to talk to Bill, and Mr. Pickett stopped to speak to me as he was 
 running to make a change." 
 
 " What's that ? " asked Kate, somewhat bewildered. 
 
 " Oh, they call dressing in a hurry, making a change." 
 
 "I hope you won't get into trouble ; stopping out so late is very 
 dangerous for a young girl. And I suppose you walk up Picca- 
 dilly with him after the play 1 " 
 
 • " Sometimes he takes me out for a drink," replied Miss Hender, 
 anxious to avoid a discussion on the subject, but at the same time 
 tempted to make a little boast of her independence. "But you 
 must come and see Madame Angotj I hear it is going to be beauti- 
 fully put on, and Mr. Lennox is sure to give you a ticket." 
 
 " I daresay I should like it very much ; I don't have much 
 amusement." 
 
 "Indeed you don't, and what do you get,for it ? I don't see that 
 Mr. Ede is so kind to you for all the minding and nursing you do ; 
 and old Mrs. Ede may repeat all day long that she is a Christian 
 woman; and what else she Ukes, but it doesn't make her anytliing 
 
28 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 less disagreeable. I wouldn't live in a house with a mother-in-la^ 
 — and such a mother-in-law ! " 
 
 As she spoke of Mrs. Ede, Miss Hender got her words out in a 
 hurry, knowing well that her mistress would not allow her mothci - 
 in-law to be abused in her presence. But Kate, who was very 
 tired and out of spirits, instead of indignantly repudiating Miss 
 Hendor's words, contented herself with answering — 
 
 "You don't get on with Mrs. Ede, but I don't know what I 
 should do without her : she is the only friend I have." 
 
 "That's not so," said Miss Hender, looking affectionately at 
 Kate, for she really liked her employer, although she could not 
 help feeling some contempt for her scruples of conscience. " Half 
 your time you are shut up in a sick-room, and even when he is 
 well he is always blowing and wheezing. He's not the man that 
 would suit me." 
 
 " Ralph is very good to me. He can't help being cross some- 
 times," said Kate, who was thinking of the fatigue of last night's 
 watching. She felt it still in her bones, and her eyes ached. As 
 she considered the hardships of her life, her manner grew more 
 abandoned. Miss Hender wondered what her companion was 
 thinking about, and waited impatiently for her to speak. Reverie 
 was less to this young woman's taste even than work, and noticing 
 the skirt that was slipping on the floor, she said — 
 
 " If you'll let me have the skirt, ma'am, I'll stitch it up." 
 
 Kate handed her the silk wearily, and was about to speak when 
 Mrs. Ede entered. 
 
 " Mr. Lennox is down stairs," she said, sternly. " I don't know 
 what you'll think of him. I'm a Christian woman and I don't 
 want to misjudge any one, but he looks to me like a person of very 
 loose ways." 
 
 Kate flushed a little red with surprise. After a moment she 
 said — 
 
 " I suppose I had better go down and see him. But perhaps he 
 won't like the rooms after all. What shall I say to him ? " 
 
 "JEndeed, I can't tell you,'' said Mrs. Ede, somewhat testily. 
 " I have the dinner to attend to." 
 
 " But," said Kate, getting frightened, " you promised me not to 
 say any mor,e on this matter." 
 
 "Oh, I say nothing. I'm not mistress here. I told you that 
 I would not interfere with Mr. Lennox ; no more I will Why 
 should 1 1 What right have I ? But I may warn you, and I have 
 warned you. I have said my say, and I'll abide by it.' 
 
 These hard words, showing as they did the unalterable attitude 
 of Mrs. Ede's mind, only tended to confuse Kate ; all her old doubts 
 returned to her, and she remained irresolute. Miss Hender 
 watched a moment with an expression of contempt on her coarse 
 face, and then returned to her sewing. As she did so Kate moved 
 towards the door. She waited on the threshold, but seeing that 
 her mother-in-law had turned her back, her courage returned to 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 29 
 
 her and she went down stairs. She felt a little nervous ; she 
 generally did when anything was going to happen, and when she 
 caught sight of Mr._ Lennox she shrank back frightened. He was 
 a man of about thirty years of age. His face was bronzed, and 
 had it not been for his clear blue eyes he might have passed for an 
 Italian. 
 
 Leaning his large body against the counter, he examined a tray 
 of ornaments in black jet. She thought he was handsome. He 
 wore a large soft hat, which was very politely lifted from his head 
 when she entered. The attention embarrassed her, and somewhat 
 awkwardly she interrupted him in his explanations of how he had 
 been recommended to her house, and asked him if he would like to 
 see the rooms. The suddenness of the question seemed to surprise 
 him, and after replying to it aflSrmatively, he talked of their 
 mutual acquaintance, the agent in advance, and of- the difficulty of 
 getting lodgings in the town. As he spoke he stared at her — and 
 he appeared interested in the shop. 
 
 It was a very tiny comer, and, like a Samson, Mr. Lennox 
 looked as if he would have only to extend his arms to pull the 
 whole place down upon his shoiilders. From the front window 
 round to the kitchen door ran a mahogany counter ; behind it, 
 built up to the ceiling, there were lines of cardboard boxes, the 
 lower rows of which were broken and dusty. Spread out upon 
 wires lay several coarse shirts and a couple of pair of stays in pink 
 and blue. At the far end of the counter stood a looking-glass, 
 shaded and sheltered under several shawls which dangled above it. 
 The windows were filled with babies' frocks, hoods, and many pairs 
 of little woollen shoes. 
 
 After a few remarks from Mr. Lennox the conversation came to 
 a pause, and Kate asked him again if he would like to see the 
 rooms. He declared he would be delighted. She lifted the flap 
 and let him pass into the house. On the right of the kitchen door 
 there was a small passage, at the end of it the staircase began. 
 The first few steps turned spirally, but after that it ascended like a 
 huge canister or burrow to the first landing. 
 
 There, to her annoyance, Kate found IVEss Hender peeping and 
 Mrs. Ede gazing scornfully from behind the door of the workroom. 
 But Mr. Lennox did not seem to notice them, and continued to 
 talk affably of tiie difficulty of finding lodgings in the towni 
 
 Even the shabby gentility of the room, which his presence made 
 her realise more vividly than ever, did not appear to Strike him. 
 He examined with interest the patchwork cloth that covered the 
 round table, looked complacently at the little green sofa with the 
 two chairs to match, and said that he thought he would be very 
 comfortable. But when Kate noticed how dusty was the pale 
 yeUow wall-paper, with its watery roses, she could not help but 
 feeling ashamed, and she wondered how so fine a gentleman as he 
 could be so easily satisfied. Then, plucking up courage, she showed 
 him the little mahogany cheflfonier which stood next the door, and 
 
30 A MUMMER'S WJYK. 
 
 explained that it was tlierfe she would keep whatever he might 
 order. The chimney-piece was ornamented with a small looking- 
 glass engarlanded with green paper cut into fringes. Mr. Lennox 
 walked nearer, twirled his fair moustache with both hands and ad- 
 mired his whiter teeth. 
 
 The inspection of the drawing-room being over, they went up 
 the second, portion of the canister-like staircase, and after a turn 
 and a stoop arrived at the bed-room. Mr. Lennox thought the two 
 steps a curious arrangement. Kate feared her husband would call 
 for her, and she was shocked at the appearance of the room : 
 everything was in disorder, and the bed was just as she had left it. 
 
 " I am sorry that you should see the room like this, but I was 
 obliged to sleep here last night ; my husband " 
 
 "I assure you I take no objection to the fact of your having 
 slept here," he replied gallantly. 
 
 Kate blushed violently, and an awkward silence followed. 
 
 As Mr. Lennox looked round an expression of dissatisfaction 
 passed over his face. It was a much poorer place than the 
 drawing-room. Religion and poverty went there hand-in-hand. 
 A rickety iron bedstead covered with another patchwork quilt 
 occupied the centre of the room, and there was a small chest of 
 drawers in white wood placed next the fireplace — the smallest and 
 narrowest in the world. Upon the black painted chimneypiece a 
 large red apple made a spot of colour. The vulgarity of the blue 
 flower vases hurt the eye. The carpet was in rags, and the lace 
 blinds were torn and hung like fish-nets. Mr. Lennox apparently 
 was not satisfied, but when his eyes fell upon Kate it was clear that 
 he thought that so pretty a woman might prove a compensation. 
 But the pious exhortations hung on the walls seemed to cause him 
 a certain uneasiness. Above the washstand there were two cards 
 bearing the mscriptions, "Thou art my hope," "Thou art my 
 wUl;" and these declarations of faith were written within a painted 
 garland of lOies and roses. 
 
 "I see that you are religious." 
 
 " I am afraid not so much as I should be, sir." 
 
 " Well, I don't know so much about that ; the place is covered 
 with pictures — I mean holy pictures." 
 
 " Those were put there by my mother-in-law : she is very good." 
 
 " Oh, ah," said Mr. Lennox, apparently much relieved by the 
 explanation. " Old people are very pious, generally, aren't they 'I 
 But this patchwork quilt is yours, I suppose 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I made it myself," said Kate blushing. 
 
 He had made several attempts to talk to her of general things, 
 but she had answered him in the briefest phrases. Her whole 
 mind was occupied by one idea, and she could not detach her 
 thoughts from it. " Is he going to take the rooms, I wonder?" she 
 asked herself many times. At last he said — 
 
 " I like these apartments very well ; and you say that I can have 
 breakfast here ! '' 
 
A MUMIIEK'S WIFE. 31 
 
 " Oh, you can have anything you order, sir. I, or my mother, 
 vfill — " 
 
 " Very well, then ; we may consider the matter decided. I'll 
 tell them to send down my things from the theatre. " 
 
 This seemed to conclude the affair, and they went downstairs. 
 But Mr. Lennox stopped en the next landing, and without any 
 apparent object re-examined the drawing-room. Speaking like a 
 man who wanted to get up a conversation, he manifested interest 
 in everything, and asked questions concerning the rattle of the 
 sewing-machine, which could be heard distinctly ; and before she 
 could stop him he had opened the door of the workroom. He 
 wondered at all the brown paper patterns that were hung on the 
 walls, and Miss Hender, too eager to inform him, profited by the 
 occasion to glide in a word to the effect that she was going to see 
 him that evening at the theatre. Kate was amused, but felt it was 
 her duty to take the first opportunity of interrupting the conversa- 
 tion. For some unexplained, reason Mr. Lennox seemed loth to go, 
 and it was with diiBculty he was got downstairs. Even then he 
 could not pass the kitchen door without stopping to speak to the 
 apprentices. He asked them where they had found their brown 
 hair and eyes, and attempted to exchange a remark with Mrs. Ede. 
 Kate thought the encounter unfortunate, but it passed off better 
 than she expected. Mrs. Ede replied that the little girls were 
 getting on very well, and, apparently satisfied with tins answer, 
 Mr. Lennox turned to go. His manner mdicated his Bohemian 
 habits, for after all this waste of time he suddenly remembered 
 that he had an appointment, and would probably miss it by about a 
 quarter of an hour. 
 
 " Wm you require any dinner ? " asked Kate, following him to 
 the door. 
 
 At the mention of the word dinner he again appeared to forget 
 all about his appointment. His face changed its expression, and 
 his manner again grew confidential. He asked all kind of questions 
 as to what she could get him to eat, but without ever quite decid- 
 ing whether he would be able to find time to eat it. Kate thought 
 she had never seen such a man. At last in a fit of desperation, 
 he said — 
 
 " I'll have a bit of cold steak. I haven't the time to dine ; but 
 if you'U put that out for me. ... I like a bit of supper after 
 the theatre — " 
 
 Kate wished to ask him what he would like to drink with it, but 
 it was impossible to get an answer. He couldn't stop another 
 minute, and, dodging the passers-by, he rushed rapidly down the 
 street. She watched until tlie big shoulders were lost in the crowd, 
 and asked herself if she liked the man who had just left her ; but 
 the answer slipped from her when she tried to define it, and with a 
 sigh she turned into the shop and mechanically set straight those 
 siurts that hung aslant on the traversing wires. At that moment 
 Mrs. Ede came from the kitchen can-ying a basin of soup to her sick 
 
32 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 son. She ■wanted to know why Kate had stayed so long talking to 
 that man. 
 
 "Talk to him ! I suppose if we are going to take his money it is 
 only right that we should try to make him comfortable." 
 
 "A miserable ten shillings a week, when by it we are harbouring 
 wickedness and sin. I have been taught that no good can come of 
 the knowledge of such people, and I abide by what I have been 
 taught." 
 
 With this the old woman went upstairs, backbone and principles 
 equally rigid, leaving Kate to fume at what she termed her mother- 
 in-law's unreasonableness. 
 
 But Kate had not time to indulge in many angry thoughts ; for 
 before she had been gone a moment the gaunt, spare woman came 
 back with tears in her eyes to beg pardon. The only thing she 
 could not do was to restrain her tongue, and her greatest sorrows 
 were the remembrances of the hard words she had said to " dear 
 Kate." Kate on her side did not return the affection she accepted 
 so warmly as it was given. She liked the old woman well enough; 
 she took her scoldings in good part ; but now she felt a little cross 
 with her mother-in-law, and turned away pettishly, when Mrs. Ede 
 said — 
 
 "I am so sorry. Did I speak crossly, dear? I'll say no more 
 about the actor, I'll promise." 
 
 Kate knew how deeply she was loved, and it was the vague belief 
 that she might rule absolutely if she chose to take up her position, 
 that induced her to acquiesce as calmly as she usually did in her 
 mother-in-law's dictation. Sometimes she felt desirous of assuring 
 herself of the value of her unasserted power. The present instance 
 was a case in point. 
 
 " I don't see why I should be buUied in my own house," she 
 said. " Why shouldn't I let my rooms to Mr. Lennox if I like ? " 
 
 " You are right," said Mrs. Ede, " I have perhaps said too much 
 but I am sorry you turn against me." 
 
 The tone of suffering the words conveyed touched Kate to the 
 heart, and she answered warmly — 
 
 ' ' No, no, mother ; I don't turn against you. You are the only 
 person I have to love." 
 
 A look of quick pleasure passed over the hard, blunt features of 
 the peasant woman, and she said with tears in her voice 
 
 "You know I'm a bit hard with my tongue, but that's all; 1 
 don't mean it. " 
 
 Nothing more was said, and on the front landing they separated. 
 Kate went into her workroom. Miss Hender, already returned 
 from dinner, was trembling with excitement, and she waited 
 impatiently for the door to be shut that she might talk. She had 
 been round to see her friend the stage carpenter, and he had told 
 her all about the actor. Mr. Lennox was, on this authority, the boss 
 of the show. Mr. Hayes, the acting manager, was a nobody, who 
 v/as generally pretty well boozed, and Mr. Cox, the London 'gent 
 
A MUMMBK'S WIFE. S3 
 
 did not travel. Misa Hender's lover had also professed a very high 
 opinion of Mr. Lennox. He had heard of him before, and had 
 expected a fellow up to snuff; but from what he had seen of him 
 that morning he didn't mind saying that he had the whole bag of 
 tricks at his fingers' ends. 
 
 Kate listened bewildered, not understanding half of what was 
 said. The superior knowledge Miss Hender displayed of theatrical 
 slang and back-door doings alarmed her. A reproof rose to her 
 lips, but she checked it in her eagerness to learn more about Mr. 
 Lennox. 
 
 " And what part does he play in the Madame Angot, I think you 
 call it ? " she asked as she bent her head to examine the passemen- 
 terie she was stitching on to the sleeves. 
 
 "Oh, the low comedy part," said Miss Hender; but seeing that 
 Kate did not understand, she hastened to explain that the low 
 comedy parts meant the funny parts. 
 
 "He's the man who's lost his wig — La — La Ravod«e, I think 
 they call it — and a very nice man he is. When I was talking to Bill 
 1 could see Mr. Lennox between the wings ; he had his arm round 
 Miss Leslie's shoulder. I'm sure he's sweet on her." 
 
 Kate looked up from her work and stared at Miss Hender slowly. 
 The announcement that Mr. Lennox was the funny man was 
 disappointing, but to hear that he was a woman's lover disgusted 
 her at once with him, and she could not help saying — 
 
 "All those actors are alike. I see now that my mother-in-law 
 was right. I should not have let him my rooms." 
 
 " One's always afraid of saying anything to you, ma'am; you do 
 twist one's words so. I am sjre I did not mean to say there was 
 any harm between him and Miss Leslie. There, perhaps you'll go 
 and tell him that I spoke about him." 
 
 ' ' I'm sure I shall do nothing of the sort. Mr. Lennox has taken 
 my rooms for a week, and there's an end of it. I am not going to 
 interfere in his private affairs." 
 
 The conversation then came to a pause, and all that was heard 
 for a long time was the clicking of the needle and the rustling, of 
 BUk. Kate wondered how it was that Mr. Lennox was so different 
 off the stage from what he was on, and it seemed to her strange that 
 such a nice gentleman — for she was obliged to admit that he was that 
 — should choose to play the funny parts. As for his connection 
 with Miss Leslie, that of course was none of her business. What 
 did it matter to her whom he was in love with ? She would have 
 thought he was a man who would not easily fall in love; but perhaps 
 Miss Leslie was very pretty, and, for the matter of that, they might 
 be going to be married. Miss Hender, in the meanwhile, regretted 
 having told Kate anything about Mr. Lennox. The best and surest 
 way was to let people find out things for themselves. Having an 
 instinctive repugnance to virtue — at least, to questions of conscience 
 
 she could not abide whining about spilt mUk, and, beyond an 
 
 occasional reference to their work, the women did not speak again, 
 
 13 
 
84 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 until at three o'clock Mrs. Ede announced that dinner was ready. 
 There was, however, not much to eat, and Kate had little appetite, 
 and she was glad when the meal was finished. She had then to 
 help Mrs. Ede iij getting the rooms ready, and when this was done 
 it was time for tea. But not even this meal did they get in comfort. 
 Suddenly it was remembered that Mr. Lennox had ordered a beef- 
 steak for supper. Mrs. Ede, however, said she would see to this, 
 and Kate went into the shop to attend to the few customers who 
 might call in the course of the evening. The next event was the 
 departure of Miss Hender, who came downstairs in a violent hurry, 
 saying she had only just allowed herself time to dress and to get to 
 the theatre before the curtain went up. She was very sorry Kate 
 was not coming, but she promised to tell her to-morrow all about 
 Mr. Lennox, and how the piece went. As Kate bade her assistant 
 good night a few customers dropped in, all of whom gave a great 
 deal of trouble. She had to pull down an immense number of 
 packages to find what was wanted, and these had to be tied up and 
 put back in their places. Then her next door neighbour, the 
 stationer's wife, called to ask after Mr. Ede and to buy a reel of 
 cotton ; and so, in evening chat, the time passed, until the fruiterer's 
 boy came to ask if he should put up the shutters. 
 
 Kate answered affirmatively, and remarked to her friend, who 
 bad risen to go, what a nice, kind man Mr. Jones was. 
 
 " When Mr. Ede is ill I have nothing to do but to ask, and he 
 sends his boy morning and night to take down and put up my 
 shutters." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, they are very kind people, but their prices are 
 very high. Do you deal with them ? " 
 
 Kate replied that she did ; and, as the fruiterer's boy put up the 
 shutters with a series of bangs, she strove to decide her neighbour 
 to buy a certain gown she had been long talking of. 
 
 " Trimming and everything, it won't cost you more than thirty 
 shillings ; you'll want something fresh now that summer's coming on." 
 
 "So 1 shall. I'll speak to my man about it to-night. I think 
 he'll let me have it." 
 
 " He won't refuse you if you press him." 
 
 "Well, we shall see." 
 
 On this a last good-bye was said, and the stationer's wife slipped 
 .away. The shops were now closing. The streets were filled with 
 dark masses of people who passed in surging confusion towards 
 Piccadilly. The evening was fine. Streaks of purple and touches 
 of yellow were dying out of the west, and the wide grey slopes of 
 the hills rendered insignificant and toylike the unending brick angles 
 of the tbwn. Brick ! It was a sea of brick— brick of all colours: 
 the pale brown of the decaying yards, the implacable red brick 
 that turns to purple of the newly built warehouses, whilst over- 
 head an uninterrupted succession of scarlet-tiled roofs pointed their 
 sharp backs to the light of a few wan stars. 
 
 Kate stood for a long time looking at the hUls that faded into 
 
"A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 35 
 
 the night-olouds,and against the huge grey background the bright 
 small flames of gas-jets started and remained befote her like golden 
 nails upon the face of a door. 
 
 Her thoughts drifted vaguely. She thought of what she had 
 thought of a hundred limes before. The same ideas turned in her 
 brain monotonously, as the hands of a clock round the dial. She 
 wondered if her lodger would be satisfied with her mother-in-law's 
 cooking. She hoped so. He was a very nice man, and it would be 
 tiresome if they did not pull together. Then as his image floated 
 from her Kate feared seriously for Miss Hender's virtue. If Mrs. 
 Ede knew of her conduct there was not a doubt but she would not 
 allow her in the house. The difBculty she was in with Mrs. Barnes's 
 dress next suggested itself, and with a shiver and a sigh she shut 
 the street door "and went upstairs. The day had passed; it was 
 gone like a hundred days be'fore it— wearily, perhaps, yet leaving in 
 the mind an impression of something done, of duties honestly 
 accomplished. 
 
36 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "Oh, ma'am 1 " broke in Miss Hender, "you can't think how 
 amusing it was last night. I never enjoyed myself so much in my 
 life. The place was crammed. You never saw such a house, and 
 Miss Leslie got three encores, and a call after each act." 
 
 " And what was Mr. Lennox like ? " 
 
 " Oh, he only played a small part— one of the policemen. He 
 don't play Pom-poucet ; I was wrong. It is too heavy a part, and 
 he's too busy looking after the piece. But Joe Mortimer was 
 splendid : I nearly died of laughing when he fell down, and lost his 
 wig in the middle of the stage. And Frank Bret looked so nice, 
 and he got an encore for his song, ' Oh, certainly I love Clairette. ' 
 And he and Miss Leslie got another for the duet. To-morrow 
 they play the Cloches." 
 
 " But now you've seen so much of the theatre, I hope youll be 
 able to do a little overtime with me. I have promised to let Mrs. 
 Barnes have her dress "by to-morrow morning." 
 
 " I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to stay after six o'clock." 
 
 " But surely if they are doing the same play you don't want to 
 see it ag^in ? '' 
 
 " WeU, 'tisn't exactly that, but — ^well. I prefer to tell you the 
 truth ; 'tisn't for the piece I go to the theatre ; I am one of the 
 dressers, and I get twelve shillings a week, and I can't afford to 
 lose it. But there's no use in telling that to Mrs. Ede ; she'd only 
 kick up a row." 
 
 *' How do you mean, dressing ? " 
 
 " The ladies of the theatre must have some one to dress them, 
 and I look after the principals—Miss Leslie and Miss Beaumont, 
 that's all." 
 
 " And how long have you been doing that ? " 
 
 " Why, about a month now. Bill got me the place." 
 
 This conversation had broken in upon a silence of nearly half an 
 hour. For about that time not a word had been spoken ; with 
 bent heads and clicking needles, Kate and Miss Hender had been 
 working assiduously at Mrs. Barnes's skirt. 
 
 Having, a great deal of passementerie ornamentation to sew on 
 to the heading of the flounces, and much fringe to arrange round 
 the edging of the drapery, Kate looked forward to a heavy day. 
 She had expected Miss Hender an hour earlier, and she had not 
 
A MTJMMEK'S WIFE. 37 
 
 turned up until after nine. An assistant whose time was so occupied 
 that she couldn't give an extra hour when you were in a difficulty 
 was of very little use, and the sooner her place was supplied the 
 better. Besides, all this talk about theatres and actors was very 
 wrong ; there could be little doubt but that the girl was losing her 
 character, and to have her coming about the house would give it a 
 bad name. Such were Kate's reflections as she handled the rust- 
 ling sUk and folded it into large plaitings. Now and again she 
 tried to come to a determmation, but she was not sincere with her- 
 self. She knew she liked the girl, and would not find the courage 
 to dismiss her. Miss Render's conversation amused her, and to 
 send her away meant to surrender herself completely to her mother- 
 in-law's stem kindness and her husband's irritability. 
 
 Miss Hender was the window through which Kate viewed the 
 bustle and animation of life, and she dreaded the darkness that the 
 closing of it would bring. Even now, annoyed as she was that she 
 would not be able to get the dress done in time, she could not re- 
 frain from listening to the girl's chatter. There was about Miss 
 Hender that dommating charm which material natures possess 
 even when they offend. Being of the flesh we must sympathise 
 with it, -and the amiability of Miss Hender's spirits made a great deal 
 pass that would have otherwise appeared shocking. She could tell 
 — without appearing too rude — ^how Mr. Wentworth, the lessee, 
 was gone on a certain lady in the new company, and would give 
 her anything if she would chuck up her engagement and come and 
 live with him. When Miss Hender told these stories, Kate, fear- 
 ing that Mrs. Ede might have overheard, looked anxiously at the 
 door, and under the influence of the emotion, it interested her to 
 warn her assistant of the perils of frequenting bad company. But as 
 Kate lectured she could not help wondering how it was that her life 
 passed by so wearily. Was she never going to do anything else 
 but work, she often asked herself. How hateful it was ! Then to 
 repulse these thoughts, which she knew were wicked, she would 
 seek consolation in thinking of her excellent conduct. She would 
 often thank God that she had nothing to reproach herself with, and 
 it afforded her a kind of calm enjoyment to look back upon her 
 tranquil working life. 
 
 Her story, until the arrival of Mr. Lennox, was unmarked by 
 any event of importance, and its psychological significance can be 
 weU and easily inferred from the following statement of the facts, i 
 
 Kate had never known her father ; her mother was a hard-work- 
 ing woman, an earnest believer in Wesley, who made a pound a 
 week by painting on china. This was amply sufficient for their 
 wants ; so Mrs. Howell's only terrors were that she might not suc- 
 ceed in saving her soul, or might lose her health, die before her 
 time, and leave her daughter in want. To avoid this calamity she 
 worked early and late at the factory, and Kate was left in the 
 charge of the landlady, a childless old woman who, sitting by the 
 fire used to tell stories of her deceptions and misfortunes in life. 
 
38 A MTTMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 The little girl considered these hours quite dolioious, aaid h 
 childish brain was thus early intoxicated with sentiment. It w 
 therefore be seen that the motlier's influence was at an unfortuna 
 time counteracted, and the Bible readings and extempora 
 prayers offered up by their bedside in tlie evening had be( 
 neutralised earlier in tlie day. Schooldays came next in Kat( 
 youtli, but they were unimportant, and exorcised little influence ( 
 her after life. 
 
 And, like an empty dream, eighteen years passed. Kate grc 
 softly and mystically as a dark damask rose into a pretty woma 
 with a soul made up two-thirds of sentiment, and one-tliird 
 superstition. For, notwithstanding her early training, religion hi 
 never taken a very firm hold upon her. Although she had marri( 
 into a family very similar to her own, although her mother-in-la 
 was almost a counterpart, of her real mother — a little harder ai 
 more resolute, but as Godfearing and as kind — Kate had oaug' 
 no blast of religious fervour ; it had taught her nothing, inspiri 
 her with nothing, could influence her in little. She was not stroi 
 nor great, nor was she conscious of any deep feoluig tliat if si 
 acted otherwise than she did she would be living an unworthy lif 
 She was merely good because she was a kind-hearted woma; 
 without bad impmses, and admirably suited to the life she w; 
 leading. 
 
 But in this commonplace inactivity of mind there was one stroi 
 characteristic, one bit of colour in all these grey tints : Kate w 
 dreamy, not to say imaginative. When she was a mere child si 
 loved fairies, and took a vivid interest in goblins ; and when afte 
 wards she discarded these stories for others, it was not because 
 shocked her logical sense to read of a beanstalk a hundred fe 
 high, but for a tenderer reason. Jack did not find a beautiful lac 
 to lovo him. She could not help feeling disappointed, and whc 
 the Louduii, Journal came for the first timo across her way, with tl 
 story of a broken heart, hor own heart melted with sympath; 
 And the more sentimental and unnatural the romance, the more 
 fevered and enraptured her. She loved to read of singular au 
 terranean combats, of high castles, prisoners, hair-breadth escapes 
 and hor sympathies were always witli the fugitives. It was all 
 very delightful to hear of lovers who were true to each other : 
 spite of a dozen wicked uncles, of women who were tempted unl 
 their hearts died within them, and who years after threw up the 
 hands and said, " Thank God that I had the courage to resist." 
 
 And the second period of her sentimental education was whi 
 she passed from the authors who deal exclusively with kni<'hi 
 princesses, and kings, to thoae who interest themselves in tlie lo 
 fortunes of doctors and curates. 
 
 Amid these there was one story that interested her in particulo 
 that caused her deeper emotions than perhaps oven the others hi 
 done. It concerned a beautiful young woman with a lovely oval fac 
 whowas married toa very tiresome country doctor. This lady was in tl 
 
A MUMMKU'S ■WIFH. an 
 
 habit of vtmiliiijr UyioM mul Sliollny in urioh, Bwoot-soonted meadow, 
 tluwu by t.ho vivoi' wliit'U llowwl ilronmily through smiling piiatnro- 
 lamlH luloi'iK'd by Hproiuliiif; Inuis. Hut this iiunulow bolongod to a 
 youog *tl«i''i'. IV Niiptii'li uiiui wiUi gviuul, broad shoulders, who day 
 iiftor day usud U> watuli tlioso nmduigs by tlio rivor, witliout, how- 
 yvor, viuil.uriiijj; Id address a word U< the fair trospassei-. One day, 
 however, ho whh stArtled by ii sliriok j in her pootioal droaraings 
 tlie lady liiul HliiipiHl into the water. A niomunfc sufficed to tear ofT 
 his oiiat, and as ho swam liko a wator-doj;, liu had no dilQoulty in 
 rOBOuiiiH; hov. Aft.or this advoutiiro ho hud, of course, to oall and 
 iiuiuiro, and from honooforth his visits grow more and more I'lo- 
 q^uont, and by a .stnmito I'luiu'.iiloiuo, ho used generally t<> oomo 
 riding up to tlio hall-iltuu' wlum tho husband was away curing 
 tlui iUs of tlio (Hniuti'y folk. Hours never to bo forgoltoii woro 
 paHsi'd undoi- (lio I roes by tlio river, ho ploiuliuji liis cause, and she 
 rofimiii!,' to leave pour Artliur— ho was too >{»'hI a fellow. Heart- 
 b«ilion, at last tlio scuiiro gave up the pursuit., and wont to foreign 
 parts, where he waited tliirty years until he hoard Arthur was dead. 
 TlioM ho came back witli a light hoiu't to his lirst and only love, who 
 liad novor oeaaod to think of hini, and livod with lior happily for- 
 over ofterwaixiB. The grotesque mixture of prose and poeti-y, botli 
 oqually folso, used u> enchant Kato, tuid slio always fancied had 
 aho been the heroine of tlie book tliat she would have acted in t4io 
 saino way. 
 
 The tiiHt,i\ for novel-readuig caused Kate's niothur tlie deepest 
 dislToss J pho Uiought it "a sinful waste of tiiiio, not to speak of 
 tJio way it turiiod people's hoada from God ;" and when one day she 
 found Kate's aorap-book, made up of pooius out from tlie Family 
 Hmtihl, aho l)i\i;iin to despair of her daughter's salvation. For 
 notwitlistonding nil her offorca, slie could not awalce tlio girl to tliis 
 belief, and tlie anawor Kato generally made to her niotlier's 
 ropiMaolies was ; " INlotlier, 1 have beon sewing all day ; 1 can't 
 soo what harm it eon bo to road a little beforo I go to bed. Nobody 
 is ronuired to bo always saying tlieir prayers." 
 
 The next two yooi's posaod away unperceived by eitlier mother or 
 dau)i;litor, and thou lui ovont ocourrea of somo importance. Their 
 noighbouva at tlio oornor of tJie street got into diificulties, ond wcio 
 eventually nold out and tlioir places taltoa by strnaigers, who 
 ehanged the oil-ahop into a drapory buauvoss. The now ai'rivals 
 caused, of oourse, tho keenest iutoroat, mid Mrs. Howell and her 
 daughter colled to see what thoy woro liko, as did everybody else, 
 Tho aoquaintonos tlius formed was renewed at oliuroh, where, much 
 to their surprise and pleusuro, thoy diaoovorod tliat tlioy woro of 
 tho sauio porauamon. 
 
 llouoofortli tlio llowolla and Edoa saw a great doid of oach ollior, 
 and ovory Sunday af tor ohui"ch tlio motliers walkod on in front, and, 
 at ft distiuioo of tliirty yards, tlio young people followod. Kalph 
 spoko of his ill-heoltli, and Kato {litiod ]iim, and when ho oom- 
 pliinonted hur on lior boautiful hair slie bluslied with pleasure. 
 
40 A MUMMBK'S WIFE. 
 
 For much as she had revelled in fictitious sentiment, she had 
 somehow never thought of seeking it in nature, and now that she 
 had found a lover, the critical sense was not strong enough in her to 
 lead her to compare reality with imagination, and she accepted 
 Ralph as unsuspectingly as she had before accepted the tawdry 
 poetry of her favourite fiction. Her nature not being a passionate 
 one, she was able to do this without any apparent transition of 
 sentiment. She pitied him, hoped she could be of use in nursing 
 him, and then felt flattered at the idea of being mistress of a shop. 
 
 The mothers, whose thoughts had been travelling for some time 
 in the same direction, were delighted. No marriage could in their 
 eyes be more desirable. Religious opinions coincided, and dress- 
 making was a suitable adjunct to the drapery business. Kate 
 brought the talent, Ralph the means of putting it into execution, 
 and very soon after she was installed in her own workroom. Of 
 love small mention was made. The bridegroom spoke of his 
 prospects, of improving the business, the bride listened, interested 
 for the while in his enthusiasm ; orders came in, and Kate was soon 
 transformed into a hard-working woman. 
 
 With marriage her reading ceased, and the scrap-book was left to 
 sleep at the bottom of an old trunk. This change of character 
 passed unperceived by aU but Mrs. Howell, who died wondering 
 how it had come about. Kate herself did not know, and she 
 fancied that ic was fully accounted for by the fact that she had no 
 time, — " no time for reading now." 
 
 This was no more than the truth ; but she did not complain ; she 
 accepted her husband's kisses as she did the toil he imposed on 
 her — meekly, unaffectedly, as a matter of course. Apparently she 
 had known all through that the romances which used so strongly 
 to fascinate her were merely idle dreams, having no bearing upon 
 the daily life of human beings — things fit to amuse a young girl's 
 fancies, and to be thrown aside when the real cares of life were' 
 entered upon. The only analogy between the past and present was 
 an ample submission to authority and an indifference to the world 
 and its interest. Even the fact of being without children did not 
 seem to concern her, and when her mother-in-law regretted it she 
 merely smiled languidly, or said, "We are very well as we are." 
 
 Of the world and the flesh she lived in ignorance, suspecting 
 their existence only through Miss Hender. For some months past a 
 friendship had been steadily growing up between the two women. 
 Miss Hender was attracted by her employer's kindness and softness 
 of manner, Kate by her assistant's strength of will. Had she 
 known for certain of the existence of a lover she would not have 
 kept her, but the possibility of sin attached her to the girl in the 
 sense that it forced her continually to think of her. And then 
 there was a certain air of bravado in Miss Hender's freckled face 
 that Kate unconsciously admired. She instituted comparisons 
 between herself and the assistant, and she generally came to the 
 conclusion that she preferred that fair, blooming, blonde complexion 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFB. 41 
 
 to her own clear olive-coloured skin, and the sparkle of the red 
 frizzy hair disgusted her with the thick wavy blue tresses which 
 encircled, as would a piece of black velvet, her small temples. ' 
 
 As she continued her sewing she reconsidered the question of 
 Miss Hender's dismissal, but only to perceive more and more 
 clearly the blank it would occasion in her life. But besides her 
 personal feeling there was the important fact to consider, that to 
 satisfy her customers she must have an assistant who could be 
 depended upon. And she did not know where she would iind 
 another who would turn out work equal to Miss Hender's. At last 
 Kate said : — 
 
 " I don't know what I shall do ; I promised the dress by to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 "I think we'll be able to finish it to-day," said Miss Hender ; 
 "I'll work hard at it all the afternoon ; a lot can be done between 
 tliis and seven o'clock." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," replied Kate dolefully ; "these leaves take 
 such a time to sew on ; and then there's all the festooning." 
 
 " I think it can be managed, but we must stick at it." 
 
 On this expression of goodwill the conversation ceased for the 
 time being, and the clicking of needles and the buzzing of flies 
 about the brown-paper patterns was all that was heard untU, about 
 twelve o'clock, IVIrs. Ede burst into the room. ' 
 
 " I knew what it would be," she said, shutting the door after 
 her. 
 
 "What is it ?" said Kate, looking up frightened. 
 
 " WeU, I oflfered to do him a chop or some fried eggs, but he says 
 he must have an omelette. Did you ever hear of such a thing ? I 
 told him I didn't know how to make one, but he said that I was to 
 ask you if you could spare the time." 
 
 " I'll make him an omelette," said Kate rising. " Have you got 
 the eggs ? " 
 
 " Yes. The trouble that man gives us ! What with his bath in 
 the morning, and two pairs of boots to be cleaned, and the clothes 
 that have to be brushed, I have done nothing but attend to him 
 since ten o'clock ; and what hours to keep ! — it is now past 
 eleven. " 
 
 " What's the use of grumbling ? You know that the work must 
 be done, and I can't be in two places at once. You promised me 
 you wouldn't say anything more about it, but would attend to him 
 just the same as any other lodger." 
 
 "I can't do more than I am do'ng ; I haven't done anything all 
 the morning but run upstairs," said Mrs. Ede very crossly ; " and 
 I wish you'd take the little girls out of the .kitchen, I can't look 
 after them, and they do nothing but look out of the window." 
 
 " Very well, I'll have them up here ; they can sit on the sofa. 
 We can manage with them now that we have finished the cutting 
 
 out." , . , , ,- r. 
 
 Miss Hender made no reply to this last speech, which wa« 
 
42 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 addressed to her. There was nothing she hated so much as havin; 
 the little girls up in the workroom. 
 
 To make Mr. Lennox's omelette did not take Kate a long while 
 There was a bright fire in the kitchen, the muflSus were toasted 
 and tlie tea was made. 
 
 " This is a very small breakfast," she said as she put the platei 
 and dishes on the tray. " Didn't he order anything else ?" 
 
 "He spoke about some fried bacon, but I'll attend to that ; yoi 
 take the other thmgs up to him." 
 
 As Kate passed with the tray in her hand she reproved the little 
 girls for their idleness and told them to come upstairs, but r 
 was not until she motioned them into the workroom that she realisec 
 that she was going into Mr. Lennox's room. After a slight paus( 
 she turned the handle of the door and entered. 
 
 Mr. Lennox was lying very negligently wrapped in liis dressing 
 gown. 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon, sir ; I didn't know — " she said, starting 
 back. 
 
 Then, blushing violently for shame at her own silliness in taking 
 notice of such things, she laid the breakfast things on the table 
 He, however, did not seem the least put out by her discomfiture 
 but wrapping himself up more closely, drew his chair forward, anc 
 smacked his Hps. As he did so he said — 
 
 "I hope I haven't shocked you, but I didn't know you wer( 
 coming in, and I always like to sit an hour or two in my dressing 
 gown before dressing." 
 
 " Oh, it doesn't matter,'' she said, hating him for the moment fo: 
 forcing her to allude to the subject again. "I hope you'll like you: 
 omelette, sir. 
 
 " Oh, very nice indeed," he replied, taking the cover off the dish 
 " but I am afraid I have given you a great deal of trouble ; that ol< 
 lady told me you were very, very busy." 
 
 "I have to finish a dress to-day, sir, and my assistant — " 
 
 Here Kate stopped, remembering that as Mr. Lennox had pro 
 bably renewed his acquaintance with Miss Hender at the theatre 
 any allusion to her would give rise to further conversation, — and sh( 
 now thought only of escaping from the room. 
 
 " Oh yes, 1 know Miss Hender ; she's one of our dressers ; sh( 
 looks after our two leading ladies, Miss Leslie and Miss Beaumont 
 But I don't see the bacon here." 
 
 " Mrs. Ede is cooking it ; she'll bring it up in a minute or two,' 
 said Kate, edging towards the door. 
 
 "We have nothing to do with the /dressers," said Mr. Lennox 
 speaking rapidly, so as to detain his landlady ; " but if you are as 
 pressed with your work as you tell me, I daresay, by speaking to thi 
 lessee, I might manage to get Miss Hender off for this one evening.' 
 
 " Thank you, sir ; I am sure it is very kind of you, but I shall bi 
 able to manage without that.'' 
 
 Mr. Lennox spoke with such an obvious desire to oblige that KnU 
 
A MtTMMEE'S WIFE. 43 
 
 could not chooge but like him, and it made her wish all the more 
 that he would cover up his big, bare neck. 
 
 Pon my word this is a capital omelette," he said, as he greedily 
 devoured the yellow substance. " There is nothing I like so much 
 as a good omelette. I was very lucky to come here," he added, 
 glancing at Kate's waist, which was slim even in her old blue striped 
 dress. 
 
 " It is very kind of you to say so, sir,'" she said, and a glow of rose- 
 colour flushed the dajrk complexion. There was something very 
 human in this big man, and Kate did not know whether his animal- 
 ism irritated or pleased her. 
 
 _ " You were not at the theatre last night ? " he said, forcing a huge 
 piece of deeply-buttered spongy French roll into his mouth. ' 
 "No, sir, I wasn't there ; I rarely go to the theatre." 
 "Ah ! I'm sorry. How's that? We had a tremendous house. 
 I never saw the piece go better. If this business keeps up to the 
 end of the week I think we shall try to get another date." 
 
 Kate did not know what " another date " meant, but she resolved 
 to ask Miss Hender. 
 
 " You have only to teUme when you want to see the piece, and 
 rU give you places. Would you like to come to-night? " 
 
 "Not to-night, thank you, sir. I shall be busy all the evening, 
 and my husband is not very well." 
 
 The conversation then came to a pause. Mr. Lennox scraped up 
 the last fragments of the omelette, and had just poured himself out 
 another cup of tea, when Mrs. Ede appeared with the broiled bacon. 
 A.t once, on seeing Kate talking to Mr. Lennox, she assumed an 
 air of mingled surprise and regret. 
 
 Kate noticed this, but Mr. Leimox had no eyes for anything but 
 the bacon, which he heaped on his plate and devoured voraciously. 
 It pleased Kate to see him enjoy his breakfast, but while she was ad- 
 miring him Mrs. Ede said as she moved towards the door, " Can 
 I do anything for you, sir ? " 
 
 "Well, no," replied Mr. Lennox indifferently; but seeing that 
 Kate was going too he swallowed a mouthful of tea hastily and said, 
 " I was just telling this lady here that we had a tremendous success 
 last night, and that she ought to come and see the piece. I think 
 she said she had no one to go with. You should take her. I'm 
 sure you wiU like the Cloches." 
 
 Kate looked startled at this proposition, and Mrs. Ede looked in- 
 dignant. After a moment she recovered herself, and she said 
 severely and emphatically, " Thank you, sir, but I'm a Christian 
 woman. No offence, sir, but I don't think such things are right.'' 
 
 " Ah ! don't you, indeed ?" replied the actor, looking at her in 
 blank astonishment. But the expression of his face soon changed, 
 and as if struck suddenly by some painful remembrance, he said, 
 " You are a Dissenter or something of that kind, I suppose. _ We 
 lost a lot of money at Bradford through people of your persuasion ; 
 they jolly well preached against us." 
 
44 ■ A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 To this speech Mrs. Ede made no reply, and Ka.te, frightened out 
 of her life, certain that something terrible was going to happen, 
 made a hurried explanation that her mother-in-law held very severe 
 views, but that it would not do for us all to think alike. 
 
 This brought the conversation to a dead lock, and it was clear to 
 all parties that tliey felt too deeply on the subject to trust themselves 
 to further argument. Mrs. Ede accepted tlie suggestion that '_' Jialph 
 might be waiting for something upstairs," and after a few brief and 
 apologetic phrases Kate withdrew discountenanced to her workroom. 
 
 Would Mr. Lennox take offence and leave them ? was the question 
 she asked herself as she sat sewing passementerie leaves on to the 
 silk sleeves. Occasionally Miss Hender looked up inquiringly. 
 She suspected that something had occurred, and was dying to hear 
 what it was ; but there sat those idiotic little girls, and of course it 
 wouldn't do to speak before them. Nevertheless from time to time 
 she hazarded an indirect allusion. Once she hinted she had heard 
 that Mr. Lennox, although a verynieeman, was a bit quick-tempered. 
 
 Kate answered this query evasively. She said that it was difficult 
 to know what Mr. Lennox was like, and with that remark she allowed 
 the conversation to fall to the ground. Words were to her an effort, 
 and she could not detach a single precise thought from the leaden- 
 coloured dreams which hung about her. 
 
 Click, click, went the needles all day long. Mrs. Barnes was Kate's 
 best customer, but she could not understand what a woman who 
 lived in a thirty pound house could want with a ten pound dress. 
 But that was no affair of hers, and as it was most important she 
 should not disappoint her, Kate kept Miss Hender to dinner ; and 
 as compensation for the press of work, she sent round to the public 
 for three extra half -pints. They needed a drink, for the warmth of 
 the day was intense. Along the red tiles of the houEfea, amid 
 the brick courtyards, the sun's rays created an oven-like atmosphere. 
 From the high wall opposite the dead glare poured into the little 
 front kitchen through the muslin blinds, burning the pot of green- 
 stuff, and falling in large spots upon the tiled floor. Overcome by 
 the heat, the two women lay back on the little red calico-covered 
 sofa, languidly sipping their beer, and thinking vaguely of when 
 they would have to commence work again. Miss Hender lolled with 
 her legs stretched out ; Kate wearily rested her head upon her hand ; 
 Mrs. Ede sat straight, apparently unheeding the sunlight which fell 
 across the plaid shawl which she wore winter and summer. She 
 drank her beer in quick gulps, as if even the time for swallowing 
 was rigidly portioned out. The others watched her, knowing that 
 when her pewter was empty she would turn them out of the kitchen. 
 In a few moments she said, "I think, Kate, that if you're in a hurry 
 you'd better get on with your dress. I have to see to Mr. Lennox's 
 dinner, and I can't have you a-hanging about. As it is I don't know 
 how I am to get the work done. There is a leg of mutton to be 
 roasted, and a pudding to be made, and all by four o'clock." 
 
 Kate calmed the old woman with a few words, and taking Ralph's 
 dinner from her, carried it vpstairs. She found her husband better, 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 45 
 
 but he complained of being neglected. Setting the tray on the edge 
 of the bed, she briefly answered the questions he put to her concerning 
 the actor, then begged of him to excuse her, and slipped out of the 
 room. About half-past three Mr. Lennox came in with two men, 
 whom she found out afterwards to be Joe Mortimer the low come- 
 dian and young Montgomery the conductor. Miss Hender was in a 
 wild state of curiosity, and it became difiicult to prevent her from 
 listening at the doors, and almost useless to remind her of the fact 
 that there were children present, so excited did she become when 
 she spoke of Bret's love af&irs. 
 
 But at six o'clock, she put on her hat determinedly ; the children 
 took their leave at the same time, and Kate was left to finish the 
 silk dress alone. There was still much to be done, and when Mrs. 
 Ede called from the kitchen that tea was ready, Kate did not at first 
 answer, and when she did descend she did ndt remain above ten 
 minutes, — just long enough to eat piece of bread and butter. Her 
 head was 'filled with grave forebodings, which gradually drifted and 
 concentrated into one fixed idea, not to disappoint Mrs. Barnes. 
 Once, and quite suddenly, she was startled by an idea which, led up 
 to by nothing, flashed across her mind, and stopping in the middle 
 of a leaf, she considered the question that had propounded itself. 
 Lodgers often made love to their landladies ; what would she do if 
 he made love to her ? such a thing might occur. An expression of 
 annoyance contracted her face, and she passively resumed her sew- 
 ing. The hours passed slowly and oppressively. It was now ten 
 o'clock ; the tail had still to be bound with braid, and the side-strings 
 to be sewn in. Having no tape by her. she though of putting off these 
 finishing-touches till the morning, but plucking up her courage, she 
 determined to go down and fetch from the shop what was required. 
 The walk did her good, but it was hard to sit down again to work ; 
 and the next few minutes seemed to her interminable : but at last 
 the last stitch was given, the thread bitten off, and the dress held 
 up in triumph. She looked at it for a moment with a feeling of 
 pride, which soon faded into a sensation of profound lassitude. 
 
 However, her day's labour was over, and she was now free. But 
 the thought carried with it a savour of bitterness, for she re- 
 membered that there was no place for her to go to but her sick 
 husband 3 room. Unconsciously she had been looking forward to 
 having at least one night's rest, and it exasperated her to think 
 that there was nothing for her but a hard pallet in the backroom, 
 and the certainty of being awakened, several times to attend to her 
 husband. Then she asked passionately if she was always going to 
 remain a slave and a drudge ? Miss Hender s words came back to 
 her with a strange distinctness, and she saw that of pleasure, or 
 even of happiness, she knew nothing ; and in a very simple way she 
 wondered what were really the ends of life. She longed to be good 
 and religious, like her mother or her mother-in-law, but somehow 
 she could never feel as they did, it all seemed so far away. Of 
 course it was a great consolation to think there was a happier and 
 
46 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 better world ; still— still . Not being able to pursue the thread 
 
 any further, she stopped puzzled, and when her thoughts again 
 detached themselves, she was thinkirig of the lady who used to read 
 Byron and Shelley,' and who so bravely resisted her lover's 
 entreaties. Every part of the forgotten story came back to her. 
 She completely realised the place they used to dream in. She 
 could see them watching with ardent eyes the paling of the distant 
 sky as they listened to the humming of insects, breathing the honied 
 odour of the flowers ; she saw her leaning on his arm caressingly, 
 whilst pensively she tore with the other hand the leaves as they 
 passed up the long terrace. 
 
 Then, as the vision became more personal, and she identified 
 herself with the heroine of the book, she thought of the wealth of 
 love she had to give, and it seemed to her unutterably sad that it 
 should, like a rose in a desert, lie unknown and unappreciated. 
 
 This was the last flight of her dream. The frail wings of her 
 imagination could sustain 'her no longer, and too weary to care for 
 or even to think of anything, she went upstairs. There she found 
 Mrs. Ede painting her son's chest and back with iodine. He had 
 had a bad attack, which was beginning to subs'.de. His face was 
 haggard, his eyes turgid, and his labouring chest produced the 
 whole asthmatic scale, from the highest wheeze to the lowest grunt. 
 The usual vapoury smell of ether pervaded the room, and the lamp 
 burned with a fierce red glow behind the red petticoat. 
 
 The two women talked together. Mrs. Ede, indignant, told of 
 the trouble she had had with the dinner. She had had to fetch 
 cigars and drinks. Kate listened, watching her husband all the 
 while. He at last began to get a little better, and Mrs. Ede took 
 advantage of the occasion to suggest that it was time for evening 
 prayers. 
 
 In days when speech was possible, it was Mr. Ede who read the 
 customary chapter of the Bible and led the way with the Lord's 
 Prayer ; but when words were forbidden to him his mother supplied 
 his place. The tall figure knelt straight. It was not a movement 
 of cringing humility, but of stalwart belief, and Kate, as she handed 
 her the Bible, could not help thinking that there was pride in her 
 mother-in-law's very knees. 
 
 The old woman turned over the leaves for a few s;conls in 
 silence ; then, having determined on, a chapter, began to rt^ad. But 
 she had not got beyond a few sentences before she was interrupted 
 by the sound of laughing voices and stamping feet. 
 
 Horrified, she stopped reading, and looked from Kate to her 
 husband. He was at the moment searching for his pocket- 
 handkerchief. Trembling, Kate rose to assist him, and Mrs. ilde 
 said, 
 
 " It is shameful ! 'tis disgraceful ! " 
 " It is only Mr. Lennox coming in." 
 
 " Only Mr. Lennox 1 " At that moment she was interrupted by 
 the lighter laughter of female voices, and she paused to listen. 
 
A MUMMER'S "WIFE. 47 
 
 Then shutting the book fiercely she said, " From the first 1 was 
 agamst letting our rooms to an actor ; but I certainly did not think 
 I should live to see my son's house turned into a nighthouse. I 
 shall not stop here." 
 
 " Not stop here, eh, eh ? We must tell— tell him that it can't be 
 allowed," wheezed Mr. Ede, as he mopped his sweating face. 
 
 And I should like to know who are these women he has dared 
 to bring into — People he has met in Piccadilly, I suppose ! " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " interrupted Kate. " I am sure that they are the 
 ladies of the theatre." 
 
 " And Where's the difierenoe ? " Mrs. Ede asked fiercely. 
 Sectarian hatred of worldly amusement flamed in her eyes, and 
 made common cause with the ordinary prejudice of the British 
 landlady. _ Mr. Ede shared liis mother's opinion ; but as he was 
 then suffering from a splitting headache, his chief desire was that she 
 should lower the tone of her voice. 
 
 "For goodness sake, don't speak so loud !" he said plaintively. 
 " Of course he mustn't bring women into the house ; but he had 
 better be told so. Kate, go down and tell him that these ladies 
 must leave." 
 
 Hearing her fate thus determined, Kate stood aghast, and she 
 asked herself how she was to tell Mr. Lennox that he must put his 
 friends out of doors. She hesitated, and during a long silence all 
 three listened. A great guflfaw, a woman's shriek, a peal of laughter, 
 and then a clinking of glasses was heard. Even Kate's face ad- 
 mitted that she thought it very improper, and Mrs. Ede said with a 
 theatrical air of suppressed passion : 
 
 " Very well ; 1 suppose that is all that can be done at present.'' 
 
 Feeling very helpless, Kate murmured, " I do not see how I am 
 to tell them to go. Hadn't we better put it off until morning ? " 
 
 " Till morning ! " said Mr. Ede, trying to button his dirty night- 
 shirt across his hairy chest. " I'm not going to listen to that noise 
 all night. Kate, you g — go and tur — r— n them out." 
 
 "I'm sorry, dearie," said Mrs. Ede, seeing her daughter-in-law's 
 distress. " I'll soon send them away." 
 
 " Oh, no ! I'd rather go myself," said Kate. 
 
 " Very well, dear. I only, thought you might not like to go down 
 among a lot of rough' people. " 
 
 The row downstairs was in the meanwhile increasing. Balph 
 grew as angry as his asthma would allow him. " They are killing 
 me with their noise. Go down at once and tell them they must 
 leave the house instantly.' If you don't I'll go myself." 
 
 With a look of horror at this threat, Mrs. Ede made a movement 
 towards the door, but Kate stopped her, saying, 
 
 " I'll go ; it is my place." As she descended the stairs she heard 
 a mah's voice screaming above the general hubbub : 
 
 " I'll tell you what, if Miss Beaumont doesn't wait for my beat 
 another night, I'll insist on a rehearsal being called. She took the 
 concerted music in the finale of the first act two whole bars before 
 
48 A MUMMER'S WIFB, 
 
 her time. It was damned awful. I nearly broke my stick trying 
 to stop her." 
 
 " Quite true ; I never saw the piece go so bad. Bret was 
 ' fluffing ' all over the shop." 
 
 Kate listened vaguely to these fragments of conversation, and 
 tremblingly asked herself how she was to walk in upon those people 
 and tell them that they must keep quiet. 
 
 " And the way Beaumont tries to spoon with Dick. She nearly 
 missed her cue once with sneaking after him in the wings." 
 
 A peal of laughter followed. This sally determined Kate to act ; 
 and, without liaving made up her mind what she was going to say, 
 she turned the handle of the door and walked into the room. 
 
 The three gasburners were blazing, wineglasses were on the table, 
 and Mr. Lennox stood twisting a corkscrew into a bottle which he 
 held between his fat thighs. As Kate entered he looked up. 
 
 On the little green sofa Miss Lucy Leslie lay back, playing with 
 her bonnet-strings. Her legs were crossed, and a lifted skirt 
 showed a bit of striped stocking. Next her, with his spare legs 
 sprawled over the arm of the easy-chair, was Mr. Montgomery, the 
 thinnest being possible to imagine, in grey clothes. His nose was 
 enormous, and he pushed up his glasses when Kate came into the 
 room with a movement of the left hand that was clearly habitual. 
 On the other side of the round table sat Mr. Joe Mortimer, the 
 heavy lead, the celebrated miser in the Cloches. A tall girl standing 
 behind him playfully twisted his back-hair. He addressed paternal 
 admonitions to her from time to time in an artificially cracked voice. 
 
 "Please, sir," said Kate pleadingly, "I'm very sorry, but we 
 cannot keep open house after eleven o'clock." 
 
 A deep silence followed this announcement. Miss Leslie looked 
 up at Kate curiously. Mr. Lennox stopped twisting the corkscrew 
 into the bottle, and his big blue eyes beamed with amazement. 
 
 Then the low comedian, seizing the opportunity, murmured in his 
 mechanical voice to the girl behind him, " Open house ! Of course, 
 she's quite right. I knew there was a draught somewhere ; I felt 
 my hair blowing about." 
 
 Everybody laughed, and the merriment contributed to still 
 further discountenance the workwoman. 
 
 " Will he never speak and let me go ? " she asked herself. At, 
 last he did speak, and his words fell upon her like blows. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Ede," he said in a loud, 
 commanding voice. " I made no agreement with you that I was 
 not to bring friends home with me in the evening. Had I known 
 that I was taking lodgings in a, church I wovddn't have come." 
 
 Kate did not know what answer to make. She felt dreadfully 
 humiliated, and nothing was really present in her mind but a vague 
 desire to conciliate Mr. Lennox. 
 
 " It is not my fault, sir. I really don't mind ; fcut my mother- 
 in-law and my husband will not have people coming into the house 
 after ten o'clock." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFS. 49 
 
 Mr. Lennox's face showed that his heart had softened towards 
 her, and when she mentioned that her husband was lying ill in bed, 
 turning round to his company he said, 
 
 " I think we are making too much noise ; we should not like it 
 ourselves if — " 
 
 But just at that moment, when aU was about to end pleasantly, 
 Mrs. Ede was heard at the top of the stairs. 
 
 " I am a Christian woman, and wiU not remain in a house where 
 drinking and women — " 
 
 This speech changed everything. Mr. Lennox's eyes flashed with 
 passion. He made a movement as if he were going to shout an 
 answer back to Mrs. Ede, but checking himself he said, addressing 
 Kate, " I begthat you will leave my rooms, ma'am. You can give 
 me warning in the morning if you like, or rather, I'll give it to 
 you ; but for this evening,, at least, the place is mine, and I shall 
 do what I like." On that he advanced towards the door and threw 
 it open. 
 
 Tears stood in her eyes. She looked sorrowfully at Mr. Lennox. 
 It was a pitiful, appealing glance which he noticed, but was too 
 angry to understand. The look was her whole soul. She did not 
 see Miss Leslie sneering, nor Mr. Montgomery's grinning face. 
 She saw Mr. Lennox, and nothing but Mm, and stunned by the 
 thought of his leaving them, she followed her mother-in-law 
 upstairs. The old woman scolded and rowed. To have that lot of 
 men and women smoking and drinking after eleven o'clock in the 
 house was not to be thought of, and she tried to force her son to say 
 that the police must be sent for. But it was impossible to get an 
 answer from him ; the excitement and effort of speaking had 
 rendered him speechless, and, holding his moppy black hair with 
 both hands, he wheezed in deep organ tones. Kate looked at him 
 blankly. To sit up with him another night she felt was impossible, 
 and she longed for some place out of hearing of his breath and out 
 of the smell of the medicine-bottles. His mother, who was now 
 insisting on his taking a couple of pills, called upon Kate to find 
 the box. The sharp, sickly odour of the aloes was abominable, and 
 with her stomach turning, she watched her husband trying vainly, 
 with the aid of a glass of water, to swallow the dose. Stop in this 
 room ! no, that she couldn't do ; it would poison her. She wanted 
 sleep and fresh air. Wliere could she get them ? The actor was in 
 the spare bedroom ; but he would be gone to-morrow, and she 
 would be left alone. The thought startled her, though she soon 
 forgot it in her impetuous longing to get out of her husband's sight. 
 Every moment this desire grew stronger, and at last she said, 
 
 " I cannot stay here ; another night would kill me. WiU you let 
 me have your room V 
 
 " Certainly I will, my dear," replied the old woman, astonished 
 not so much at the request, but at the vehemence of the emphasis 
 laid upon the words. " You are looking dreadfully worn out, my 
 dear ; I will see to my boy." 
 
50 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 When once her request had been granted, Kate felt the burning 
 wish grow cold in her heart. She hesitated as if she feared she was 
 doing wrong, and she looked at her husband wondering if he would 
 call her back. 
 
 But he took no heed ; his attention was too entirely occupied by 
 his breath to think either of her or of the necessity of sending for 
 the police, and he waved his mother away when she attempted jx) 
 speak to him. Then, tiiming to Kate as the next person in 
 authority, she asked, 
 
 " Are those men going to stop there all night ? " 
 " Oh 1 I really don't know ; I am too tired to bother about it any 
 more," replied Kate petulantly. " It is all your fault— you are to 
 blame for everything ; you have no right to interfere with the 
 lodgers in my house." 
 
 Mrs. Ede raised her arms as she sought for words, but Kate, 
 without giving her time to answer, walked out of the room. 
 Suddenly a' Voice cried in a high key, 
 
 " Who do you take me for, Dick ? I wasn't bom yesterday. A 
 devilish pretty woman, if you ask me ; and what black hair ! " 
 
 Kate stopped. " Black hair," she said to herself, " they must be 
 talking of me," and she listened intently. 
 
 The remark, however, did not appear to have been particularly 
 well timed, for after a long silence, a woman's voice said, 
 
 " Well, I don't know whether he likes her, and I don't care, but 
 what I'm not going to do is to wait here listening to you all crack- 
 ing up a landlady's good looks. I'm oflF." 
 
 A scuffle then seemed to be taking place ; half-a-dozen voices 
 spoke together, and in terror of her life Kate flew across the work- 
 room to Mrs. Ede's bed. 
 
 The door of the sitting-room was flung open, and cajoling and 
 protesting words echoed along the passage and up and down the 
 burrow-like staircase. It was undoubtedly disgraceful, and Kate 
 expected every minute to hear her mother-in-law's voice mingling in 
 the fray. However, peace was restored, and for at least an hour 
 she listened to sounds of laughing voices mingling with the clinking 
 of glasses. But at last Dick wished his friends good night, and 
 they went, leaving a long dark silence behind. Kate, who lay 
 trembhng under the sheets, listened. Something was going to 
 happen. "He thinks me a pretty woman ; she is jealous," were 
 phrases that rang without ceasing in her ears. Then hearing his 
 door open she fancied he was coming to seek her, and in consterna- 
 tion buried herself under the bedclothes, leaving only her black 
 hair over the pillows to show where she had disappeared. But the 
 duplicate drop of a pair of boots was conclusive, and assuring 
 herself that he would not venture on such a liberty, she strove to 
 compose herself to sleep. 
 
61 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 About eleven o'clock on the following day Kate walked up Market 
 Street with Mrs. Bame's dress. She had just received an angry 
 letter from that lady, saying that she would not require the dress — 
 that it was now of no earthly use to her. This was a very serious 
 matter, and as Kate walked with her face set against the empty 
 square of sky, set in the end of the street as in a frame, she 
 thought of what she could say to satisfy her client. 
 
 Market Street, although scarcely less rigid, presented a less 
 mercantile appearance than the rest of Hanley. There was just a 
 feeble look of idleness about it which was visible nowhere else. In 
 the open place at the bottom of the hill crowds of children were 
 constantly playing about three dilapidated swings and a merry-go- 
 round. The green and yellow paint of these neglected toys 
 suggested fancies that faded as the eye scanned the acres of bare 
 brick. Half of the pipe of the shooting-gallery had been broken 
 away, and was lying amid the wheels of a dilapidated showman's 
 cart. These were the only signs of decay the town possessed. Even 
 the factory chimneys looked new, and the dwelling-houses seemed 
 as if they had been run up according to contract by the gross. The 
 eye was hurt by naked red angles, by the raw green of the blinds, 
 and the similarity of each proportion. Some few of the doorways, 
 but very few, were adorned with stucco porches and iron railings ; 
 generally a woman sat under a black beam, and screamed down a 
 dark passage after a child. 
 
 Kate's anxiety of mind caused her to walk fast towards the 
 square of sky, where the passers seemed like figures on the top of a 
 monument. There she would turn to the left, and descend towards 
 the little quasi villa residences which form the suburb of Northwood ; 
 and when, ten minutes later, hot, and out of breath, Kate ap- 
 proached Mrs. Barnes's door, she matured her plans, determining 
 if the worst came to the worst to let the dress go at a reduction. 
 For tlie moment she had forgotten her other troubles, and it was_ 
 not until she had received her money that she remembered that her' 
 rooms would again be empty. 
 
 She was sorry Mr. Lennox was going. She did not think how 
 rudely he had turned her out of his room ; she dwelt rather on his 
 kindness when she brought him up his breakfast, and the nice 
 pleasant way ho had of speaking. A dim feeling of unexplained 
 
62 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 tenderness grew upon her mysteriously as mists gather along a low 
 shore, and almost unconsciously she gazed upon the view before her. 
 She slipped years back into the past, until she stood again a young 
 girl on the playground of her youth, watching the rolling hills 
 spreading up and along the sky-line. 
 
 Below her, in the dazzling morning light, lay a vaUey miles upon 
 mUes in length. It was one of those terrible cauldrons in which 
 man melts and moulds this huge age of iron. And of what did 
 this -valley consist? Of black plains that the sunlight could not 
 change in colour ; of patches of grass, hard and metallic in hue ; of 
 tanks of water glittering like blades of steel ; of gigantic smoke- 
 clouds rolling over the stems of a thousand factory chimneys. Like 
 the bayonets of an advancing army they came, encircling Bucknell, 
 a single oasis in tliis black desert, through whose woods curled 
 constantly the white steam of a passing train. 
 
 Kate stood on the side of a steep declivity. Through its wor 
 sides black cinders protruded, and the ruins of deserted coUieries 
 stood close at hand. On her left, some fifty feet below, running in 
 the shape of a fan round a belt of green, were the roofs of North- 
 wood — a river of black brick unrelieved by any trace of colour saving 
 the yellow cliimney-tops that were speckled upon a line of fluffy 
 clouds. Sharp as the teeth of a double saw were the interminable 
 gables, and not a ray of light glinted against the black windows. 
 So black was everything that even the spire of the church remained 
 a sUhouette in the liquid sunlight that was poured as out of a 
 diamond vase from the long pale space of sky which rose behind 
 the hills of Western Coyney. On the right, Southwark, another 
 river of brick, trickled down into the valley, but this time the 
 colour was red. There the lines were more irregular, and the 
 jagged houses seemed like cartloads of gigantic pill-boxes cast in a 
 hurry from the counter along the floor. The lines of the pavement 
 could just be distinguished. Kate watched the crowds passing. A 
 hansom with a white horse appeared and disappeared amid these 
 angular streets, sometimes seen against the green blinds of a semi- 
 detached villa, sometimes against the broad background of a group 
 of pottery ovens basking with their yellow bellies raised up to the 
 light. 
 
 The sun was now rapidly approaching the meridian, and the 
 kingstar blazed, a vision of dancing flame ; white clouds trimmed 
 the edges of the long hills, and in the vibrating light the wheels 
 of the most distant collieries could almost be counted, and the 
 stems of the far-off factory chimneys appeared like tiny fingers. 
 
 Kate saw with tlie eyes and heard with the ears of her youth, 
 and the past became as clear as the landscape before her. She 
 remembered the days when she came to read on this hiUside. The 
 titles of the books rose up in her mind, and she could recall the 
 sorrow she felt for the heroes and heroines. It seemed to her 
 strange that that time was so long past, and she wondered why she 
 had forgotten it. Now it all seemed so near to her that she felt 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 63 
 
 like one only just awakened from a dream. And these memories 
 made her happy. She took an infinite pleasure in recalling every 
 little event — an excursion she made when she was quite a little girl 
 to the ruined colliery, and, later on, a conversation with a chance 
 acquaintance, a young man who had stopped to speak to her. 
 
 At the bottom of the valley, right before her eyes, the white 
 gables of Bucknell Rectory, hidden amid masses of trees, glittered 
 now and tlien in an entangled beam that flickered between 
 chimneys, across brick-banked squares of water darkened by brick 
 walls. Then behind Bucknell were more desolate plains full of pits, 
 brick, and emoke ; and then for miles rose up against the sky, with 
 a roll oceanic in grandeur, the interminable hills. 
 
 The American tariff had not yet come into operation, and every 
 wheel was turning, every oven baking ; and through a drifting veil 
 of smoke the sloping sides of the hills with all their fields could be 
 seen sleeping under immense covertures of shadow, or basking 
 naked upon beds of light. A deluge of rays fell upon them, 
 defining every angle of Watley Bocks, and floating over the grass- 
 lands of Standon until all was lost in a huge embrasure filled with 
 the almost imperceptible outlines of the Wever Hills. For, like a 
 reversed teacup placed in a basin is the mound on which the red 
 town of Hanley is built ; and the intersecting lines, squares, and 
 oblongs of the hill-fields render the likeness more apparent, 
 representing as they do a pattern similar to the painted edging of a 
 Staffordshire basin. 
 
 And these vast slopes, which formed the background of every 
 street, were the theatre of all Kate's travels ; and before life's 
 struggles had ground her down she never saw them without 
 dreaming. When as a little girl she played about the black cinders 
 of the hillside she used to stop to watch the sunlight flash along the 
 far-away green spaces, and in het thoughts connected them with 
 the marvels she had read of in her books of fairy tales. Surely 
 beyond these wonderful hills were the palaces of the kings and 
 queens, who could wave their wands and vanish ? Then a few 
 years later it was there, or beyond those slopes, that the lovers 
 lived with whom she sympathised in the pages of her novels. 
 
 She had not been where she now st(jod for months, and under 
 the. influence of all her new-found emotions she wondered why she 
 had never thought before of revisiting these old places. For, 
 sudden as the splash of a stone dropped into a well, the knowledge 
 came to her that she was no longer happy, that her life was no more 
 than a burden, a misery. But the analysis of her thoughts is 
 difficult, so rapid, so contradictory were they. A hundred different 
 things occurred to her at once. Above all, she remembered her 
 marriage, and how Mrs. Ede had persuaded her into it, and for the 
 first time she blamed the old woman for her interference. But this 
 was not all. Kate was willing to admit that there was no one she 
 loved like Mr. Ede, but still it was hard to live with a mother-in- 
 law who had a finger in everything and used the house like her own. 
 
54 A MUMMBK'S WIFE. 
 
 It would be all very well if she were not so very obstinate — if she were 
 not so very certain that she was always right. Religion was very 
 well, but that perpetual "I'm a Christian woman," was sickening. 
 No wonder Mr. Lennox couldn't stand it. Poor man, why should 
 he not have a few friends up in the evening ! The lodgings were 
 his own while he paid for them. She blamed herself bitterly for 
 having insulted the man in his rooms, and before his friends. No 
 wonder he cut up rough ; no wonder he was leaving them. If so 
 she would never see him again; The thought caught her like a pain 
 in the throat, and with a sudden instinct she turned to hurry home. 
 As she did so her eyes fell on Mr. Lennox ; he was walking towards 
 her. At such an unexpected realisation of her thoughts she 
 uttered a little cry of surprise ; but, smiling affably, and in no way 
 disconcerted, he raised his big hat from his head. On account of 
 the softness of the felt fehis could only be accomplished by passing 
 the arm over the head and seizing the crown as a conjuror would a 
 pocket-handkerchief. The movement was large and unctuous, and 
 it impressed Kate considerably. 
 
 " I took the liberty to stop, for you seemed so interested that I 
 felt curious to know what could be worth looking at in those horrid 
 chimneys and mounds of cinders. " 
 
 "I was not looking at the factories, but at the hiUs. The view 
 from here is considered very fine. Don't you think so, sii' ? " she 
 asked, feeling afraid that she had made some mistake. 
 
 " Ah 1 well, now you mention it, perhaps it is. Ifow far away, 
 and yet how distinct 1 They look like the gallery of a theatre. 
 We're on the stage, the footlights run round here, and the valley is 
 the pit ; and there are plenty of pits in it," he added laughmg. 
 " But I mustn't speak to you of the theatre." 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure I don't mind ! I'm very fond of the theatre,'' said 
 Kate hastily. 
 
 This indirect allusion to last night brought the conversation to a 
 close, and for some moments they stood looking vacantly at the 
 landscape. Overhead the sky was one serene sheet of dazzling blue, 
 and so still was the air that the smoke-clouds trailed like. the wings 
 of gigantic birds slowly balancing themselves. Waves of white 
 light rolled up the valley as if jealous of the red, flashing furnaces. 
 An odour of iron and cinders poisoned the melting air, and rose 
 through it from the black gulf below like intestine exhalations from 
 the open belly of a lately slaughtered animal. After some moments 
 of contemplation, which seemed to draw them closer together, Mr. 
 Lennox said, 
 
 "There is no doubt but the view is very grand, but it is 
 tantalising to have those hills before your eyes when you are shut 
 up in red brick oven. How fresh and cool they look I What 
 wouldn't you give to be straying about in those fresh woods far 
 away ? " 
 
 Kate looked at Mr. Lennox with ravished eyes ; his words had 
 flooded her mind with a thousand forgotten dreams. She felt she 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 55 
 
 liked him better for what he had said, and she murmured as if half 
 ashamed — 
 
 " I was never out of Hanley. I never saw the sea, and when I 
 was a child I used to fancy that the fairies lived beyond those hUls ; 
 even now I can't help imagining that the world is quite different 
 over there. Here it is all brick, but in novels they never speak of 
 anything but gardens and fields." 
 
 " Never seen the sea ? Well there isn't much to see in it," said 
 Mr. Lennox laughmg at the pun. "When you were a little girl 
 you used to come here to play, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I was born over there in one of those cottages." 
 
 Mr. Lennox did not seem to know whether to look sorry or 
 sentimental, but he listened patiently to Kate who, proud of being 
 able to show him anything, pointed out the different points of view. 
 The white gables that could just be distinguished in the large 
 dark masses of trees, the one oasis in the ocean of cinders, was 
 Bucknell Rectory. The fragment of the cliff on the top of the 
 highest ridge half-way up the sky was Watley Eocks ; then came 
 Western Coyney, the plains of Standon, and far away, in a blue 
 mist, the, faint outlines of the Wever Hills. But Mr. Lennox did 
 not seem very much interested ; the sun was too hot for him, and 
 in the iirst pause of the conversation he asked Kate which way she 
 was going. He had to get on to the theatre, and he asked her if 
 she would show him the way there. 
 
 " You can't do better than to go down Market Street ; but if you 
 like I win direct you." 
 
 " I shall be so glad if you will ; but Market Street — I think you 
 said Market Street ? That is just the way I have come." 
 
 Market Street was where people connected with the theatre 
 generally lived, and Kate knew at once he had been there looking 
 for lodgings ; but she was ashamed to tax him with it, and they 
 walked on for some time without speaking. But every moment 
 the silence became more irritating, and at last, determined to know 
 the worst, she said, "I suppose you were looking for lodgings ; all 
 the theatre people put up in that street." 
 
 Mr. Lennox flinched before this direct question. 
 
 " Why no, not exactly ; I was calling on some friends ; but 
 there are, as you say, some of the profession living in the street ; 
 and now you mention it, I suppose I shall have to find some new 
 diggings." 
 
 " I am sorry, sir, very sorry," said Kate looking up into the big 
 blue eyes. "I ought not to have come down ; you are, of course, 
 master in your own rooms." 
 
 " Oh, it was not your fault ; I could live with you for ever. You 
 mustn't think I want to change, if you could only guarantee that 
 your mother-in-law will keep out of my way. " 
 
 Kate felt at that moment that she would guarantee anything that 
 would prevent Mr. Lennox from leaving her house. 
 
 " Oh, I don't think there will be any difficulty about that," she 
 
56 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 said eagerly. " I'll bring your breakfast and dinner up, and you 
 are out nearly all day." 
 
 " Very well, then, and I will promise not to bring home any 
 friends," he added gallantly. 
 
 "But I'm afraid you'll be very lonely, sir." 
 
 " I'll have you to talk to sometimes." 
 
 Kate made no answer, but they both felt that the words implied 
 more than they actually meant, and like people who had come to 
 some important conclusion, they remained silent. Then after a 
 long pause, and without any transition, Mr. Lennox spoke of the 
 heat of the weather, and of the harm it was likely to do their 
 business at the theatre. She asked him what he thought of 
 Hanley. Mr. Lennox smiled through his white moustache, and 
 said the want of trees made it very dreary ; he cared little for the 
 country, but to see nothing but brick made it hard for the eyes. 
 
 Not feeling quite satisfied with this last observation, Kate spoke 
 of the pretty sites there were about the town, and pointing dowii a 
 red perspective backed by the usual hills, she told him that 
 Trentham, the Duke of Sutherland's place, was over there. 
 
 " What, over those hills 1 That must be mUes away." 
 
 " Oh, not so far as that. Hanley does not reach to there. The 
 country is perfectly beautiful, once you get past Stoke. I went 
 once to see the Duke's place, and we had tea in the inn. That was 
 the only time I was ever really in the country, and even then we 
 were never quite out of sight of the factories. Still, it was very 
 nice." 
 
 " And who were you with ? " 
 
 " Oh, with my husband." 
 
 " He's an invalid, is he not ? " 
 
 " Well, he suffers very much at times, I'm afraid ; but he's often 
 well enough." 
 
 The conversation again came to a pause, and both thought of how 
 'happy they would be were they taking tea together at the inn at 
 Trentham. 
 
 They were now in the centre of the town, close to the Town Hall 
 — a stupid square building, staring as an official document. Two 
 black cannons stood on either side of the door. Opposite was a 
 huge shop with "Commercial House" written across the second 
 story in gold letters. Vulgar carpets and coarse goods were piled 
 about the doorway ; and from these two houses Piccadilly, and 
 Broad Street, its continuation, ran down an incline, and Church 
 Street branched off, giving the town the appearance of a two- 
 pronged fork. 
 
 All was red — generally red brick turning to purple, and it blazed 
 under a blank blue sky. No spray of green relieved the implacable 
 perspectives, no sesthetic intention broke the frigidity of the re- 
 morseless angles. Wide widths of red walls, bald rotundities of 
 pottery ovens, iron, and brick, reigned supreme; before them 
 nature had disappeared, and the shrill scream of the steam-tram as it 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE, 57 
 
 rolled solemnly up the incline seemed to be man's cry of triumph 
 over vanquished nature. 
 
 After looking vacantly about him, Mr. Lennox said, " What I 
 object to in the town is that there's nothing to do. And it is so 
 blazing hot ; for goodness sake let us set under the shadow of a 
 wall." 
 
 Kate smiled, and as they crossed over they both wiped their 
 faces. 
 
 " There are the potteries," she said, referring to Mr. Lennox's 
 complaint that there was nothing to do in the town. " Everybody 
 that comes to Hanley goes to see them ; but the best are in Stoke." 
 
 " I am sure I'm not going to Stoke to see potteries," he answered 
 decisively, '' but if there are any in Hanley I daresay I shall turn in 
 some afternoon. I have heard some of our people say they are 
 worth seeing. But," he added, as if a sudden thought had struck 
 him, " I might go now ; I have nothing to do for the next couple 
 of hours. How far are the nearest ? " 
 
 Kate told him that Powell and Jones's works were close by in 
 the High Street. She pointed out the way^ but failing to make 
 Mr. Lennox understand her, she consented to go with him. Mr. 
 Lennox pleaded complete ignorance. From the word pottery he 
 guessed that it had something to do with pots and pans. He had a 
 kind, soft manner of spealm^, which drew her towards him -as 
 irresistibly as if he had taken her in his arms, and it was astonishing 
 how intimate they had grown in the last few minutes. 
 
 "It doesn't look very interesting," he said, as they stopped before 
 an 'archway and looked into a yard fiUed with straw and packing- 
 cases. 
 
 " Oh, yes, it is ; but you must see the diflFerent rooms. You 
 must go up to the ofiSce and ask for a permission to see the works." 
 
 " Oh, I don't think I'd care to go by myself. Won't you come 
 with me ? " 
 
 Kate hesitated, for suddenly a desire to see the old places had 
 crept into her mind. She had very little to do at home ; she could 
 say that Mrs. Barnes had kept her waiting. 
 
 " Do come," he said after a pause during which he looked at her 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Well, I should like to see the room where my mother used to 
 wor"-, but we mustn't stop too long. I shall be missed at home." 
 The matter being so arranged they entered the yard, and Kate 
 pointed out a rough staircase placed against the wall. " You must 
 go up there, the office is at the top ; ask for a permission to see the 
 works. I'll wait for you here." 
 
 For the moment she was glad to be left alone, and she looked 
 round the old brick yard with tenderness. Half-a-dozen men were 
 packing crockery into crates with spades. She watched them 
 wondering how it was they did not break the delf. She saw 
 herself again a little girl running with her mother's dinner just as 
 she used to ten years ago. 
 
58 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 One afternoon she remembered particularly vrell. Promising to 
 be very good, she had been allowed to sit by her mother and watch 
 her painting flowers that wound in and out and all about a big blue 
 vase. She remembered how she was reproved for peeping over her 
 neighbour's Moulder, and how proud she felt sitting among all the 
 workwomen. She could recall the smell of the paint and turpentine, 
 and her bitter grief when she was told that she should not learn 
 painting, that she was too delicate, and was going to be put out to 
 dressmaking. But now that time was gone ; her mother was dead 
 and she was married. Everything was changed or broken, as was 
 probably that beautiful vase. It astonished Kate to find herself 
 thinking of these things. She had passed the High Street twenty 
 times within the last six months without it even occurring to her to 
 visit the old places, and when Mi'. Lennox came back he noticed 
 that there were tears in her eyes. He made no remark, but hastily 
 explained that he had been told that there was a party just that 
 minute gone on in front of them and they were to catch them up. 
 
 " This way, then," she said, pointing to a big archway. 
 
 " Oh, I can't run ; don't be in such a hurry," said Mr. Lennox 
 panting. 
 
 Kate laughed and admitted that the heat was terrific. Out of a 
 sky burnt almost to white the huge glare descended into the narrow 
 brick yards. The packing straw seemed ready to catch fire ; the 
 heaps of wet clay, which two boys were shovelling, smoked, emitting 
 as it did so an unpleasant wet odour. On passing the archway they 
 caught sight of three black frock coats and three black shovel hats. 
 
 " Oh 1 " said Kate, stopping disappointed, " we'll have to go the 
 round with those clergymen." 
 
 " What does that matter ? It wUl be amusing to listen to them.'' 
 
 " But mother knows all of them." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense,; they must be strangers in the town or they 
 wouldn't be visiting the potteries." 
 
 This reassured Kate, and they joined the party. The Dissenting 
 clergymen looked askance at Mr. Lennox, and the guide said, as he 
 showed them into a small white cell, "You are in plenty of time, 
 sir ; these are the suagger makers.'' 
 
 Two men were beating a heap of wet clay in order to insure a 
 something in the bakery which nobody understood, but which the 
 guide took some trouble to explain. The clergymen clustered for- 
 ward to listen. Mr. Lennox wiped' his face, and they were then 
 hurried into a second cell, where unbaked dishes were piled all 
 around upon shelves. It was said to be the dishmakers' place, and 
 was followed by another and another room, all, Mr. Lennox thought, 
 equally hot and uninteresting. He strove to escape from the guide, 
 who drew him through the line of clergymen and remorselessly 
 explained to him the mysteries of earthenware. 
 
 At last these preliminary departments were disposed of, and they 
 were led to another part of the works. On their way thither they 
 passed the ovens. These were scattered over the ground like bee- 
 
A MUMMER'S 'WrFB. 59 
 
 hives in a garden. Mr. Lennox patted their round sides approv- 
 ingly, and for the first time showed some signs of interest. He said 
 they reminded him of oyster boys in a pantomime, and he declared 
 it would not be a bad feature to introduce into the next Christmas 
 show. Kate looked wonderingly at her friend. She could not 
 understand how he could think of such things, and the clergymen 
 murmured among themselves. 
 
 After this little adventure the party seemed to grow more united, 
 and in the printing-room they listened to all that was said. The 
 guide was rsmarkably discursive, and apparently considered it of 
 the highest importance that clergymen, actor, and dressmaker 
 shovdd understand the different processes the earthenware had to 
 pass through before it was placed on toilet or bteakfast table. 
 
 They were now in a long lobby with big rafters overhead. Smok- 
 ing flannels hung on lines all around, and the sunlight poured 
 through the >vhite skylights. Like laundresses at their tubs, four 
 or five women washed the printed paper from the plates. In one 
 corner a man in a paper cap was bending over a stove ; he plastered 
 hot brown stuff over metal plates, and, apparently dissatisfied with 
 the guide's explanation of his work, he broke out into a voluminous 
 fiow of technical details, which even the clergymen failed to follow. 
 At the other end of this vast workroom there was a line of young 
 girls who cut the printed matter out of sheets of paper with marvel- 
 lous dexterity. The scissors ran in and out of flowers, tendrils, and 
 little birds without ever injuring one. Delighted, the clergymen 
 watched the process, while Mr. Lennox got behind Kate and 
 whispered how he had just caught the tall Dissenter winking at the 
 dark girl on the right. The truth of this statement did not concern 
 Mr. Lennox, for it gave him a pretext for breathing on Kate's neck, 
 a lead up to the love-scene which he had now decided was to come 
 off on the first occasion that should present itself. A devilish pretty 
 woman, he thought, and he continued to make jokes at the expense 
 of the three Dissenting ministers, who .walked before them like 
 three black turkeys. 
 
 Having passed through a brick alley with a staircase leading to a 
 platform buUt like a ship's deck, they went on through a series of 
 rooms until they came to a place almost as hot as a Turkish bath. 
 Presses filled with unbaked plates and dishes stood in the middle of 
 the room, and the wet smell of the clay drying in steam diffused 
 from underneath was very unpleasant. It caused one of the 
 ministers to cough violently, whereupon the guide explained that 
 the platemakers' apartments were considered the most unhealthy of 
 any in the works ; the people who worked there, he said, usually 
 suffered from what is known as the potter's asthma. This interested 
 Kate, and she delayed the guide with questions as to how the 
 potter's asthma differed from the ordinary form of the disease, and 
 when their little procession was again put in motion she told Mr. 
 Lennox how her husband was affected, and the nights she had spent 
 watching at his side. But although Mr. Lennox listened attentively 
 
60 A mTTMMBE'S WIFE. 
 
 she could not help thinking that he seemed rather glad than other- 
 wise that her husband was an invalid. The unkind way in which 
 he spoke of sick people shocked her, and she opposed the opinion 
 that a person in bad health was a disgusting object. 
 
 She could not be brought to agree to this view. In discussing the 
 question they lingered behind, and Mr. Lennox profited by the 
 occasion to whisper into her ears that she was tar too pretty a 
 woman for an asthmatic husband ; and, encouraged by her blushes, 
 he even hazarded a few coarse jokes anent the poor husband's 
 deficiencies. He wanted to know how a man could kiss if he 
 couldn't breathe, for if there was a time when breath was essential, 
 according to him, it was when four lips meet. 
 
 Kate felt frightened. No one had ever spoken to her in this 
 way before, and she did not really know what Mr. Lennox meant. 
 Had she known how to do so she would have resented his familiari- 
 ties, but his good humour disarmed her. Once their hands met. 
 The contact caused her a thrill, and she put aside the unbaked plate 
 they were examining 
 
 " We had better make haste," she said, " or we shall lose them.'' 
 
 The next two rooms were considered by everybody both amusing 
 and instructive. Even the three clergymen lost something of their 
 stolid manner, and spoke once or twice to Mr. Lennox. They 
 asked him, apropos of nothing, his opinion concerning the religious 
 character of Hanley, and if he were of their persuasion. 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Mr. Lennox, affecting a comic innocence 
 which he hoped would tickle Kate's fancy. 
 
 " Oh, we are Wesleyans," said the minister. 
 
 "And I'm an actor; but I beg your pardon, stage managing's 
 more my business." 
 
 This remark, much to Mr. Lennox's satisfaction, seemed to 
 thoroughly horrify the three black turkeys, and leaving them to 
 make what they could of his reply,' he cast a vicious ogle at Kate, 
 and drew her confidentially forward to show her how jam-pots were 
 made. 
 
 An old man sat straddle-legged on a high narrow table just on a 
 line with the window. He was covered with clay ; his forehead and 
 beard were plastered with it. Before him was an iron plate, kept 
 continually whirling by steam, which he could stop by a pressure of 
 his foot. Holding a lump of clay with both hands, he squeezed it 
 into a long shape not unlike a tall ice, then forcing it down into the 
 shape of a batter-pudding he hollowed it. Round and round went 
 the clay, the hands forming it, all the while cleaning and smoothing 
 until it came out a true and perfect jam-pot, even to the Uttie 
 furrow round the top, which was given by a movement of the 
 thumbs. He had been at work since seven in the morning, and the 
 shelves round him were encumbered with the result of his labours. 
 Every one marvelled at the old creature's dexterity until he was 
 forgotten in the superior attractions of the succeeding room. This 
 was the turning-house, and Mr. Lennox could not help laugliing 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 61 
 
 outright, so amusing did the scene appear to him. Women went 
 dancing up and down on one leg, and at such regular intervals that 
 they seemed absolutely like machines. They were at once the 
 motive power and the feeders of the different lathes. It was they 
 who handed the men lumps of dry clay, which they turned into 
 shapes as wood might be. The strangeness of the spectacle gave 
 rise to much comment. The clergymen were anxious to know if the 
 constant jigging was injurious to health. Mr. Lennox inquired 
 how much coin they made by their one-legged dancing, and he 
 spoke in high terms of their good looks. This led him easily into 
 the question of morals, a subject in which he was much interested. 
 He wanted to know if this crowding together of the sexes could be 
 eifected without danger. Surely cases of seduction must occur 
 occasionally. In answering him the guide betrayed a certain 
 reticence of manner which encouraged Mr. Lennox to harass him 
 with inquiries. Did he really mean to say that nothing ever 
 Iiappened ; that these young women who were working all day side 
 by side with people of the other sex never, never thought of any- 
 thing but their work? The word work indicated to the hotly 
 pressed guide his way of escape, and he assured Mr. Lennox that 
 there was no time to think of such nonsense in the factory, and 
 anxious to vindicate the honour of the establishment, he declared 
 with fervour that any who took the smallest liberty with any female 
 would be instantly dismissed from the works. The ministers, 
 although they seemed to think the subject might have been avoided, 
 listened approvingly. Kate felt a little embarrassed, and Mr. 
 Lennox watched a big blonde-haired woman who smiled as if quite 
 ready, notwithstanding the ludicrous bobbing up and down position 
 she was in, to get up a flirtation. But when Kate noticed this, 
 with a courage that surprised herself, she cut the guide short by 
 proposing that they should go on. 
 
 For in addition to the annoyance that the woman's impertinence 
 caused her, she was beginning to feel uneasy at the time she had 
 been away from home. ■ She was sure that Mrs. Ede would be fret- 
 ting all over the place, and she could well imagine how cross Ralph 
 would be if he heard of it. She felt very sorry for the one, and a 
 little resentful towards the other, but the sentimental desire to see 
 the painting-room where her mother used to work prevailed, and 
 with her heart full of recollections she followed the party to the 
 ovens. 
 
 Their way hither led them around the building, and they passed 
 through many workrooms. These were generally clean, airy spaces, 
 with bis rafters and whitewashed walls. Sometimes a bunch of 
 violets, a book, or a newspaper lying on the table, suggested an ab- 
 sent owner and a refined countenance was instinctively sought for 
 in the different groups of women. There was also a difference in 
 the hats and shawls, and it was easy to tell which belonged to the 
 young girls which to the mothers of families. Everyone looked, 
 healthy and contented. All were, as Mr. Lennox continued to 
 
62 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 assert, nice-looking, and all worked industriously at their number- 
 less employments, one of the most curious of which consisted in 
 knocking the roughness oflf the finished earthenware. 
 
 A dozen women sat in a circle ; above them and a,round them 
 were piles of dinner-services of all kinds. Each held with one hand 
 a piece of crockery on her knees, whilst with a chisel she chopped 
 away at it as if it could not by any possibility be broken. In this 
 warehouse the noise, as may easily be imagined, was bewildering. 
 
 Through this room and others, up and down many narrow stair- 
 cases, the visiting party went, the guide leading, the three black 
 clergymen following, Kate lingering behind with Mr. Lennox until 
 they came to the ovens. The entrance was from an immense 
 corridor, prolonged by shadow and divided down the middle by 
 presses full of drying earthenware, the smell of which was not, 
 however, as strong as in the platemakers' place, and the difference 
 was noticed by the clergyman with the cough. He said he was not 
 affected to nearly the same extent. 
 
 At long distances two open doors allowed a double stream of 
 light to enter, and a loophole far away placed a square of white in 
 the vague obscurity. The party of visitors had from time to time 
 to give way to men who marched in single file carrying what seemed 
 to be Iiuge cheeses. The guide explained that within these were 
 cups, saucers, bowls, and basins, and men mounted on ladders pUed 
 these yellow tubs up the walls of the ovens like honeycombs in a 
 hive. They all had a peep up the huge interior, and then they 
 visited the furnaces. These were set in the oven's inner shell, 
 which made a narrow circular passage slanting inwards as it as- 
 cended like the neck of a champagne bottle. The fires glared 
 furiously, and suggested many impious thoughts to Mr. Lennox. 
 The three black turkeys made him think of devUlod bones, and he 
 proposed to ask if there were any warmer comers in hell. He had 
 taken advantage of the darkness to put his arm round Kate's waist. 
 But the constant whispering in her ear, which had at first amused, 
 her,' now irritated and annoyed her ; other emotions filled her mind 
 with a vague tumiilt, and she longed to be left to think in peace. 
 She begged of him to keep quiet. Her heart beat with suspense, 
 and as they crossed one of the yards she asked the guide if he could 
 not go straight to the painting-room. He replied timt there was a 
 regular order to be observed, and insisted on marching them 
 through two more rooms, and fuUy explaining three or four more 
 processes. Then after begging of them to be careful and hold the 
 raU, he led them up a high rickety staircase. The warning caused 
 Kate a thrill, for she remembered well the orders she used to 
 receive. Every step of this staircase was a terror to her mother. 
 
 The room itself however proved a little disappointing. Things 
 had been changed ; the tables were not arranged in quite the same 
 way, and these alterations deprived her of the emotions she had 
 expected. Still it gave her a great deal of pleasure to point out to 
 Mr, Lennox where her mother used to work. 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 83 
 
 But to find the exact spot was not by any means easy. There 
 rere upwards of a hundred young women sitting on benches, lean- 
 ng over huge tables covered with unfinished pottery. Each held ' 
 a. her hand a plate, bgwl, or vase, on which she executed some 
 [esign. The clergymen showed more interest than they had hither- 
 o done, and as they leaned to and fro examining the work, one of 
 hem discovered the sometliing Guardian, a Westeyan organ, on one 
 if the tables, and hailing his fellows they all three- hurriedly pro- 
 leeded to interview tlie proprietor. But the guide said they had 
 o visit the storerooms, and forced them away from their " lamb." 
 
 The storerooms were wildernesses of white. Ridges of vases, 
 Qounds of basins and jugs, terraces of plates, formed masses of 
 ickly white, through which rays of light were caught and sent 
 lancing with a blinding brilliancy. Along the wall on the left hand 
 ide presses were overcharged with dusty tea-services. They were 
 here as numerous as leaves in a forest. On the right were square 
 ;rey windows, under which the convex sides of salad-bowls, like 
 [igantio snow-balls, sparkled in the sun ; and from rafter to rafter, 
 n garlands and clusters like grapes, hung coimtless mugs, gilded, 
 md bearing a device suitable for children. Down the middle of the 
 loor a terrace was buUt of dinner-plates, the edges burnished with 
 ight, the rest being in grey tint. 
 
 Two rooms away a huge mound of chamber-pots formed an 
 istonishing background, and against all this white effacement the 
 nen who stood on high ladders dusting the crockery came out like 
 itrange black climbing insects. 
 
 The clergymen said it was very interesting, and the guide ex- 
 plained, just as he did everything else, the system of storing 
 smployed by the firm ; how the crockery was packed, and how the 
 nen would soon be working only three days a week on account of 
 ;he American tariff, But he was not much listened to. Everyone 
 ifas now tired, and the clergymen who since the discovery of the 
 newspaper had been showing signs that they regarded their visit to 
 the potteries as effected, pulled out their watches and whispered 
 mysteriously that their time was up. It was vain to tell them that 
 there were only a few more rooms to visit ; they declared that they 
 must be off, and demanded to be conducted to the door. This 
 request was an embarrassing one. It was against the rules ever to 
 leave visitors when going the rounds. The guide had, therefore, 
 either to conduct the whole party to the door, or transgress his 
 orders. After a slight hesitation, influenced no doubt by a conver- 
 sation he had had with Mr. Lennox, in which mention was made of 
 tickets for the theatre, he decided to take the responsibility on 
 himself, and asked that gentleman if h^ would mind waiting a few 
 minutes with his lady while the religious gentlemen were being 
 shown the way .out. Mr. Lennox assented with readiness to this 
 
64 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 herself all the remembrances that the place had evoked, her manner 
 grew more and more abandoned. She knew the room she was in 
 well. Through it she used to pass daily with her mother's dinner, 
 and she remembered how in her childhood she wondered how big 
 the world must be to hold enough people to use such thousands o£ 
 cups and saucers. All the half-forgotten fancies of infancy came 
 trooping back to her in a succession as regular as the crockery on 
 the wall. There used tx) be a blue tea-service in the far corner, and 
 she remembered that it had been once her greatest ambition to 
 possess it ; she had ofteni lingered to imagine a suitable parlour for 
 it, then she used to see herself pouring out a dream husband's tea. 
 There was a similar tea-service there now, but it was only the 
 mocking ghost of the other. Little by little she remembered every- 
 thing. One day she had torn her frock coming up the stairs, and 
 was terribly scolded ; another time Mr. Powell, attracted by hei: 
 black curls, had stopped to speak to her, and he had given her as a 
 present one of the children's mugs — one exactly like those hanging 
 over her head. She had treasured it a long time, but it at last was 
 broken. It seemed that all things belonging to her had to be 
 broken ; her dreams were made in crockery. 
 
 But as Kate looked into the past she became gradually conscious 
 of a voice whispering to her. 
 
 At first her thoughts were so far away that the presence of the 
 man next to her was only felt remotely, and his words, referring as 
 they did to the charftis of memory, did not for some time break the 
 thread of her reverie. Seeing what was her mind's mood, Mr. 
 Lennox strove to adapt himself to it. 
 
 " How strangely things do pass away ; life is only a dream when 
 we think of it. And how odd it is that you should never have 
 thought of revisiting this place untU you met me." 
 
 Commonplace as these words were, they caused Kate's soul to 
 rise to her lips, and she lifted her eyes, liquid with love, to Mr. 
 Lennox's. The look he considered as arriving quite apropos, for he 
 felt that he could not manage another phrase like the last, and 
 anxious to come to the point, he turned to see if they were watched. 
 There was no one within twenty yards of them ; where they were 
 all was still. At their feet a pile of plates and teacups slept in a 
 broad flood of sunlight, and the boys on the liigh ladder dusted the 
 mugs three rooms away. 
 
 " And what a pretty child you must have been. I can fancy you 
 with your black hair falling about your shoulders. Had I known 
 you then I should have taken you in my arms and kissed you. Do 
 you think you would have liked me to have kissed you ? " he said, 
 laughing just a little coarsely, for sentiment was not his forte. 
 
 But Kate knew nothing of this, and so moved was she that she 
 had neither the will nor the sensation of what she did. She raised 
 her eyes again, and a vague feeling of how nice, how kind he was, 
 rushed through her. 
 
 Perceiving his advantage, Mr. Lennox affected to ex.tmine a ring 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 66 
 
 "^i^^-u ^S®^' '^^'^ warm pressure of his hand caused her to start, 
 
 >' A if iT""^^^ ha.ve put him from her, but his voice calmed her. 
 Ah 1 he said, "had I known you then, I should have been 
 iwfuUy m love with you." 
 
 "ffi.^ ^ ^^^^ ^^^ eyes, and for a moment abandoned herself to an 
 nejm>le sentiment of weakness and ravishment ; and then imagin- 
 ng tJiat it was all right, Mr. Lennox took her in his arms and 
 cissed her rudely and lasciviously. 
 
 _ But at the first movement of his arms, at the first contact of his 
 ips, quick, angry thoughts rushed to her head, and obeying an 
 mpulse in contradiction to her desire she cast him off. 
 
 " Oh, what a shame ! what right had he? what a beast !" were the 
 urords that occurred to her ; and shaking herself free, she looked at 
 lim, vexed and humiliated. 
 
 This unexpected rebuff seemed to mortify Mr. Lennox not a little, 
 i,nd he attempted to soothe Kate by a little jocularity. 
 
 " Oh ! how very cross we are ; and about a kiss, just a tiny, wee 
 iiss." 
 
 Kate did not ansvrer. She stood staring at him, on2y half hearing 
 (That he said, and irritated against him and herself. The substance 
 )f her tlioughts was a painful regret that he had thus brutally dis- 
 ;urbed the calm depth of happiness which she had been enjoying. 
 
 " I'm sure I didn't mean to offend you," he continued after a 
 pause, for Kate's manner puzzled him ; " I love you too well." 
 
 "Love me ?" she cried, astonished, but with nevertheless a tone 
 )f interrogation in her voice. "Why, you never saw me till the 
 )ther day." 
 
 " I loved you the first moment — I assure you I did." 
 
 Kate looked at him softly, as imploring of him not to deceive her. 
 There was in his big blue eyes an honest frankness, and his face 
 said as clearly as words, "I think you a deuced pretty woman, and 
 ['m sure I could love you very much," and recognising this Kate 
 remained silent. 
 
 Thus encouraged, Mr. Lennox attempted to renew his intentions. 
 But actions have to be prefaced by words, and he commenced by 
 ieclaring as passionately as he could, "[That when a man would give 
 the whole world for a kiss, it was not to be expected that^" 
 
 Here words began to fail him, and he strove to think of the 
 famous love scene in The Lady of Lyons. But it was years since he 
 liad played the part, and he could only murmur something about 
 reading no books but lovers' books, singing no songs but lovers' 
 songs. Further he could not get, and remembering that the guide 
 ivould be back in a few minutes, and inspired by Kate's pale face, 
 lie came to the conclusion that it would be absurd to let her go 
 ndthout kissing her properly. 
 
 He was a strong man, but Kate had now really lost her temper, 
 
66 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 rested on her cheek, once he had kissed her chin, but as he attempted 
 to close on her mouth she managed to twist her face away. It waa 
 cert'.inly difficult to hold her, and in his excitement, not liking to 
 be beaten, he lost sight of everything but the immediate end in 
 view. Kate, too, had sworn to herself that he should not get her 
 lips, and she fought with the tenacity of a bulldog. Staggering 
 backwards, she placed one hand on his throat, and with the other 
 strove to catch at his moustache ; she had given it a wrench that 
 had brought tears into his eyes, but now he was pinioning her,, and 
 she could feel his breath upon her cheek, and see his big face 
 approaching. Summoning up all her strength she strove to get 
 away, but that moment, happening to tread on her skirt, her feet 
 slipped. He made a desperate effort to sustain her, but her legs 
 had gone between his, and a fall was imminent. 
 
 The crash was tremendous. A pile of plates three feet high was 
 gent spinning, a row of salad-bowls waa kicked over, and then with 
 a heavy stagger Mr. Lennox went over and into a dinner-service, 
 the soup-tureen of which rolled gravely into the next room. 
 
 In an instant half-a-dozen people were around them. A feeling 
 at first prevailed that some serious accident had happened, but 
 when Kate rose pale and trembling from the dibris of a bedroom 
 set, and Mr. Lennox was lifted out of the dinner-service with 
 nothing apparently worse than a cut hand, there was heard a mur- 
 mur of voices asking the cause of the disaster. But before a word 
 could be said the guide came running towards them. He declared 
 that he would lose his place, and spoke vaguely to those around him 
 of the necessity of suppressing the .fact that he had left visitors 
 alone in the storerooms. 
 
 Mr. Lennox, on the other hand, was very silent. He had 
 evidently received some bad cuts of which he did not speak. He 
 put his hand to, his legs and felt them doubtfully. There was a 
 large gash in his Tight hand, from which he picked a piece of 
 deu, and as he ti^d the wound up with a pocket-handkerchief he 
 partly quieted the expostulating guide by assuring him that every- 
 thing would be paid for. Then, taking Kate's arm, he hobbled out 
 of the place. 
 
 The suddenness and exitemeut of the accident had for the 
 moment quenched her angry feelings, and now, overwhelmed with 
 pity for the poor wounded hand, she thought of nothing but get- 
 ting him to a doctor. Indeed, it was not until she heard him 
 telling Mr. Powell in the office that he was subject to fits, and that 
 in striving to hold him up the lady had fallen too, that she 
 remembered how he had behaved, how he had disgraced her. But 
 her mouth was closed, and she listened in mute amazenient to him 
 as he invented detail after detail with surprising dexterity. He did 
 not even hesitate to call in the evidence of the guide, who in his 
 own interests, waa obliged to assent ; and when Mr. Powell inquired 
 after the three clergymen, Mr. Lennox at oiice declared that they 
 hod left them in the yard after visiting the ovens. To Kate, who 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. G7 
 
 rom her childhood hiul lived between lines so narrow thai a lie was 
 ilmost an impossibility, this wreatli of falsehood was positively be- 
 mdering ; and so ingeniously did Mr. Lennox dovetail his 
 tatements that in her astonishment for his ingenuity, and gratitude 
 or getting her out of the difficulty, she ahnost forgave him his 
 \rrongdouigs. 
 
 Mr. Powell was very kind ; he listened with a look of pity on his 
 ace, told an anecdote of a poor brother of his who was likewise 
 ubject to fits, and possibly influenced by the remembrance, refused 
 o receive any remuneration for the broken crockery. In a firm 
 ike theirs a few plates more or less was of no importance. 
 
 This being settled, Mr. Lennox inquired the way to the doctor's, 
 .nd hobbled away, leaving a little pool of blood on the floor of the 
 iffice. He looked very pale, and Kate feared that he was going to 
 aint. She had to lend him her handkerchief — his was now sat- 
 trated — to tie round his hand, and he confessed to her that he liad 
 ;ot a bad cut in the leg, and could feel the blood trickling down 
 nto his boot. 
 
 " I must get off now, my dear ; a bit of sticking-plaster is all I 
 rant. What a crash there was ; I shall never forget it. " 
 
 " Oh, yes, it was terrible ; but do go at once," said Kate, laying 
 ler hands on his arm. " Oh, do let me send for a carriage." It 
 fas astonishing how intimate the accident had rendered them. As 
 hey spoke in tlie street a passer-by would have taken them for 
 lusband and wife. 
 
 " It isn't worth while ; I'U be round at the doctor's in a minute, 
 i^hey tell me there is one round the comer in Church Street. 
 Vhich is the way ? " 
 
 "Oh, take the first turn to the right, and you are in it ; but do 
 ;o." 
 
 "I assure you it is nothing ; I'll be able to go on to-night ; I'll 
 aake a bit of effect out of my limp. But how strong you are ; you're 
 ike a lion. But you mustn't struggle like that next time. " 
 
 At the suggestion that there was going to be a next time, Kate's 
 ace clouded, but she was so alarmed for his safety that it was only 
 lomentarily. She had hardly noticed that he called her "dear." 
 le used the word so naturally and simply that it touched her with 
 wift pleasure, and was as soon lost in a crowd of conflicting emo- 
 ions. 
 
 The man was coarse, large, sensual, even as is a mutton chop. 
 Jut each movement of his fat hands was protective, every word he 
 ittered was kind, the very intonation of his voice was comforting. 
 le was in a word, human, and this attracted all that was human in 
 ou. The intelligence counted for nothing ; his charm lay in 
 is humanity. 
 
(W 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On leaving Mr. Lennox, Kate walked slowly along the streets, 
 trying vainly to arrange her thoughts, striving to arrive at a distinct 
 notion of what had happened. But the events of the day were so 
 utterly outside her experience that she could form no just concep- 
 tion of what they foreshadowed, of what they would bring. She 
 was conscious only of a huge blotting out and a misty sensation of 
 present happiness. 
 
 Interested vaguely in everything, she basked in the warmth of 
 'her thoughts like a beggar in the sun. Things she had seen a 
 thousand times before struck her in a peculiarly new light. A pair 
 of dummy spectacles over an optician's shop caused her to smile ; 
 she could not but help thinking that they were hardly too large for 
 Mr. Lennox's eyes. A flock of pigeons strutting between the legs 
 of some cab-horses awoke emotions which she could not explain. 
 An extraordinary curiosity seemed to have been suddenly developed 
 in her. She wondered who were the people who passed her in the 
 streets, where they were going, what were their occupations. Her 
 thoughts, generally so shadowy, were concentrated, and took an 
 active and minute notice of the most trivial things. The whole 
 attitude of her mind was changed. Three hours ago she gazed at 
 the wide hills and dreamed of the earliest years of her life ; now 
 her thoughts did not rove beyond the present hour. Subjectively, 
 nothing was clear ; a veil hung, as it were, between her and herself ; 
 objectively, everything was distinct as if seen in a crystal. She 
 could recall each word he said, could feel his breath on her 
 cheek ; see his blue eyes looking into hers ; but they no longer 
 frightened her. She dreamed of them placidly and with a strange 
 lucidity. Being a child of the people, Ms brutality liad not 
 impressed itself on her, and every now and then she murmured to 
 herself, "Poor fellow, what a fall he had : I hope he didn't hurt 
 himself." 
 
 The shock she had received had acted upon her like a strong 
 spirit. By turns she thought of things totally different — of Miss 
 Hender, of the little girls, who would regret her absence from the 
 workroom. Their affection was very dear to her, arid she now sud- 
 denly wished they were her own children. The wish was only 
 momentary, but it was the first time the desire for motherhood had 
 ever troubled her. 
 
A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 69 
 
 It amused her to tliink of their smiling faces, and to make sure of 
 the^ smiles she entered a shop and bought a small packet of sweet- 
 stuff, and with the paper in her hand continued her walk home. 
 The cheap prints in a newspaper shop delayed her, and the workmen 
 who were tearing up the road forced her to consider how a suspen- 
 sion of traffic would interfere with her business. She was now in 
 Broad Street ; and when she raised her eyes she saw her own house. 
 It was quite a new building. High and narrow, it stood in the 
 main street at the comer of a lane, and so much was it a corner 
 house that the curve of the pavement exactly echoed the arch of the 
 doorway. The ground-floor windows were completely curtained by 
 light goods ; men's shirts hung four on a wire, underneath were 
 some black hats with feathers. There were also children's dresses, 
 and a few print neckties trimmed with white laoe. 
 
 As she entered the shop Mrs. Ede, who was in the front kitchen, 
 cried, " Well, is that you, Kate? Where have you been? I waited 
 dinner an hour for you ; and how tired you look ! " 
 
 In her present state of mind Mrs. Ede, with her loud questioning, 
 was the last person Kate would have cared to meet. 
 
 "What is the matter, my dear; ?ire you unweU? Shall I get you 
 a glass of water ? " 
 
 " Oh no, mother ; I'm all right. Can't you see that I'm onlv verv 
 hot?" 
 
 " But where have you been to? I waited dinner an hour for you. 
 Why, it's past two o'clock ! " 
 
 Kate did not know how to account for her absence from home. 
 Words rose to her Ups to tell Mrs. Ede to mind her own business ; 
 but the feeling that she had been doing wrong turned her irritability 
 to cowardice, and after a pause she answered, thinldng of Mr. 
 Lennox as she spoke, " Mrs. Barnes kept me waiting above an hour 
 trying her dress on, and then I was so done up with night- watching 
 and sewing that I thought I'd go for a walk." 
 
 Nothing Mrs. Ede dreaded so much as anything approaching to a 
 quarrel with Kate. So at once, and in hurried words, she proceeded 
 to assure her that she couldn't have done better ; that a good long 
 walk was just what was required to set her up. "The only thing 
 is, my dear, you shouldn't remain out in such a sun as this ; you 
 might have got a sunstroke." 
 
 Kate weanly wiped her hot face, and without acknowledging the 
 advice tendered, said abruptly, "Have you done any business 
 to-day ? Have many people been iu the shop ? " 
 
 "Well, yes, half-a-dozen or more ; and I sold the rest of those 
 aprons." 
 
 Then she proceeded to recount the different events of the morning. 
 It was Mrs. White who had bought one of the aprons, and she had 
 said that she had not seen the pattern before ; a stranger had taken 
 another ; and Miss Sargent had called, and she wanted to know how 
 much it would cost to make her blue dress. 
 
 " Oh ! I know ; she wants me to reline the skirt and put now 
 
70 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 trimming on the body for seven and sixpence ; we can do without 
 her custom. And then? " 
 
 "And then — ah ! I was forgetting — ^Mrs. West came in to tell us 
 that her friend Mrs. Wood, the bookseller's wife, you know, up the 
 street, was going to be confined, and would want some baby-Unen, 
 and she recommended her here." 
 
 " Did you see nobody else ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, a young man who bought half-a-dozen pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs. I let him have the half-dozen for four shUlings ; and I 
 sold a pink necktie to one of the factory hands over the way." 
 
 " Why, mother, you have done a deal of business, and I'm glad 
 about the baby-linen. We have a lot in stock, and it hasn't gone 
 off well. 1 don't know Mrs. Wood, but it was very kind of Mrs. 
 West to recommend us ; and Miss Header, how has she been getting 
 on with the skirt ? You know I promised it by Friday ? " 
 
 " Well, I must say she has been working very well ; she was here 
 at half-past eight, and she did not stop away above three-quarters 
 of an hour for dinner." 
 
 "I am glad of that, for I was never so backward in my life_ with 
 my work, what with Ralph being ill and Mr. " 
 
 Kate tried here to stop herself. The conversation had so far been 
 an agreeable one, and she did not wish to spoil it by alluding to a 
 subject on which there was no likelihood of their agreeing. 
 
 But Mrs. Ede had anticipated the hated name of Lennox. Her 
 face clouded instantly^ and she said, "Yes, I wanted to talk to you 
 about that. Mr. Lennox has not sent anyone to take away his 
 things, and he did not even speak to me when I took him up his 
 breakfast this morning." 
 
 Eor the last five years Kate had lived inertly, glad to shirk all 
 responsibility, delighted to leave the control of the house in her 
 mother-in-law's hands, contented to work hard without thinking of 
 a result. But the quarrels that had preceded the arrival of Mr. 
 Lennox had awakened her to a sense of her position, and tliis 
 sentiment, now strengthened by her present liking for the man, 
 determined her to assert her authority. 
 
 " I do not think that Mr. Lennox is leaving us," she said after a 
 pause. "I thought it was arranged last night that he was to be 
 told that he must not bring friends after eleven o'clock at night. 
 When I see him I'll speak to him about it." 
 
 And resolved to take the situation at one stroke, Kate walked 
 haughtily into the kitchen and sat down to her dinner. Mrs. Ede, 
 although quite ready to make a profession of her opinion when the 
 occasion offered, followed with a dog-Uke look of affection on her 
 face ; and though fearing to lose the advantage gained, Kate entered 
 into an explanation with a view of soothing the old woman's feel- 
 ings. This done she went upstairs to see Ralph, whom Mrs. Eda 
 declared to be very much better. On passing the workroom the 
 door opened suddenly, and the bright faces of the little girls darted 
 out. 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE 71 
 
 " Oh ! is that you, Mrs. Edo ? How we have missed you all the 
 mommg," cried Annie joyously. 
 
 " And Miss Hender has been so busy that she had to get mete 
 help her with the skirt, and I did a great long piece myself without 
 a mistake. Did I not, Miss Hender 'I " 
 
 " I am going up to see my husband,'' said Kate smiling, " but I 
 shall be down presently, and I have bought something for you." 
 
 " Oh ! what is it? " cried Annie excitedly. 
 
 "You shall see presently." 
 
 Ralph was lying stai in bed : he was propped up in his usual 
 attitude, with his legs tucked under him. The room smelt very 
 bad. 
 
 "Don't you think we might open something?" she said, as she 
 sat down by the bedside ; " and your sheets want changing, too." 
 
 " Oh, if you have only come in to turn everything upside down 
 you might as well have stayed away." 
 
 "It is very unkind of you to speak like that, Ralph ; you know 
 that — " 
 
 " I know that very well, but leave me alone ; don't you see I can't 
 breathe 1 " 
 
 "I think you are better," said Kate, mollified by the excuse; 
 "but wouldn't it do you good to change the air sometimes ? " 
 
 "No, no; on the contrary, the great thing is not to change it. I 
 don't notice any smell. It is only because you have come out of the 
 street." 
 
 Accepting this explanation as a possible one, Kate examined her 
 husband attentively. His face was a dead white, and his eyes T^ere 
 dark, hollow cavities. With a weak, trembling hand he pushed the ' 
 thick hair oflf his forehead, and he spoke with difficulty and in a thin 
 wheeze. There was no doubt, however, that he was better. The 
 dreadful dyspnoea was fast leaving him, and when he had recovered 
 from the prostration caused by it he would be well. 
 
 " I think the pills did me good last night," he said after a pause ; 
 and then added, laughing as much as his breath would allow him, 
 "and what a rage mother was in. But tell me, what were they 
 dping downstairs 1 Were there any ladies there ? I was too bad to 
 think of anything.'' 
 
 "Yes, there were some of the ladies of the theatre there," said 
 Kate severely ; '•' but I don't think that mother had a right to kick 
 up the row she did." 
 
 " And it just came in upon her prayers," said Ralph, smiling 
 laboriously. 
 
 Although crossgrained and passionate, Mr. Ede was not always 
 an unpleasant man. He had a sense of dry humour, and often, in 
 sudden flashes of affection, the kind heart of his mother was recog- 
 nisable. 
 
 "You mustn't laugh, Ralph," said Kate, looking aside, for the 
 comic side of the question had suddenly dawned upon her. 
 
 Their hilarity was, however, of not long endurance. Poor Mr. 
 
ti A MUMMBE'S WIFE. 
 
 Ede was seized with a violent fit of coughing, and when this was 
 over he lay back exhausted. At last he said : 
 
 " But where have you been all the day ? We have been wonder- 
 ing what had become of you." 
 
 The question, although not put unkindly, caused Kate a feeling 
 of annoyance. "One would think I had come back from a long 
 journey," she said to herself. "It is just as Miss Hender says, if 
 I'm out half an hour more than my time every one is, as they say, 
 ' wondering what has become of me.' " Assuming, however, an air 
 of indifference, she told him that Mrs. Barnes had kept her an im- 
 mense while, and that she had gone for a walk. 
 
 "I'm glad of that," he said. " You wanted a walk after being 
 shut up with me three nights running. And what a time you 
 must have had of it 1 But tell me what you have been doing in 
 the shop." 
 
 In brief phrases Kate, in pity for his foolish jealousy, made light 
 of the morning sales, for to be ill while business had been brisk Mr. 
 Ede regarded as the cruellest misfortune that could have happened - 
 to him. 
 
 " And you really did sell all the aprons ? I knew they would go. 
 1 told you so, didn't I ? " he said. 
 
 "You did, dear," said Kate, seeking to satisfy him ; "but you 
 must not talk so much ; you'll make yourself bad again." 
 
 ' ' But are you going ? " 
 
 "I've been out so long that I have a lot to do ; but I'll come back 
 and see you in the evening." 
 
 " Well, then, kiss me before you go." 
 ■ Kate bent her head, and as she did so the Linage of Mr. Lennox 
 arose before her with a singular' distinctness : she remembered how 
 he had struggled to obtain what she was now giving as a matter of 
 course. It appeared strange to her that it should be so : but she 
 had always complied with Uie ordinances of the marriage state with- 
 out passion or revolt. Now for the first time it disgusted her to 
 kiss her husband, and she was glad to get away. But as she stepped 
 into the passage she almost stood in Mr. Lennox's room. Never had 
 the proximity of the two rooms struck her so forcibly before — one 
 step took you across. Thedoorwasajar,and,fullof the natural senti- 
 ment that a woman feels in the room of a man she is interested in, 
 and hoping that Mrs. Ede had not yet set everything straight, she 
 walked in to assure herself. Slippers and boots lay about ; the 
 portmanteau yawned wide open, with some soiled shirts on the top ; 
 a pair of taousers trailed from a chair on the floor. Protesting 
 against Mrs. Ede's negligence, Kate hung the trousers on the door, 
 placed the slippers tidily by his bedside, and put away the dirty 
 linen. But in doing so she could not refrain from casting a rapid 
 glance at the contents of the portmanteau. There, stowed carelessly 
 away, she saw many of the traces which follow those who frequent 
 women's society. The duchess works a pair of slippers for her 
 lover, and the chorus-girl does the same. The merchant's wife, as 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 73 
 
 she holds the loved hand under the ledge of her box at the theatre, 
 clasps the rmg she has given ; the rich widow opposite has a jewel- 
 case in her pocket which will presently be sent round to the stage- 
 door for the tenor, who is now thinking of his high B flat. 
 
 Under the dirty shirts Kate found a pair of slippers, a pin- 
 cushion, and the inevitable ring. But there were other presents 
 more characteristic of the man ; there was a bracelet, a scent 
 bottle, and two pots of pdt^ de foie gras wrapped up in a lace- 
 trimmed chemise. Kate examined everything, but without being 
 able to adduce any conclusion beyond a vague surmise that Mr. 
 Lennox lived in a world far beyond her reach. The foie gras 
 suggested delicacy of living, the chemise immorality, the bottle 
 of scent refinement of taste, the bracelet she could make 
 nothing of. Prosaic and vulgar as were all these articles, in the 
 dressmaker's imagination they became both poetised and purified. 
 An infinite sadness, that she could not explain, rose up tlirough her 
 mind, and, staring vaguely at the pious exhortation hung on the 
 wall, " TlioTi art my wiQ, Thou art my hope," she thought of Mr. 
 Lennox's wounded legs. This led her to consider the softness of 
 his bed, and to wonder if she could do anything to make him more 
 comfortable. It vexed her to see that he had chosen to use the 
 basin-stand made out of a triangular board set in a corner, and not the 
 proper one, where she had hung two clean towels ; and it was not 
 untU at last, remembering what she had told the little girls, and 
 how they would be expecting her, that she could make up her mind 
 to tear herself away. 
 
 " What have you got for us ? " said four red lips as Kate entered. 
 
 "Oh, you must guess," she replied, taking a chair, and biding 
 Miss Hender good-morning. 
 
 " An apple V cried Annie. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " An orange ? " cried Lizzie. 
 
 Kate shook her head, and at the sight of their bright looks she felt 
 her spirits return to her. 
 
 "No, it is sweetstufF." 
 
 «' Brandy balls ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 «To%?" 
 
 "Yes; Annie has guessed right," said Kate, as she divided the 
 tofiy equally between the two. 
 
 " And do you get nothing for guessing right ? " said Annie doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " Oh, Annie ! for shame 1 I didn't think you were greedy." 
 
 "I think it's I who should get the most," replied Lizzie in self- 
 defence. " Had it not been for me Miss Hender would never have 
 got through her skirt. I helped you famously, didn't I, Miss 
 Hender?" 
 
 The assistant nodded an impatient assent and gazed at her mis- 
 tress in avid curiosity. In Miss Hender 's opinion the next best 
 
74 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 thing to doing wrong oneself was to know that some one else had 
 been. But the children being present, she could only watch her 
 employer's face, and strive to read there some sign of dissipation. 
 
 Unconscious of the scrutiny, Kate sat idly talking of the skirt 
 that was finished. In watching the others working, the clicking of 
 the needles sounded as sweet music in her ears, and, like one lying 
 under green boughs, she abandoned herself to all sorts of soft and 
 floating reveries. Not for years had she known what it was to 
 drink her fill of rest ; and her thoughts balanced on one side and 
 then on the other as voluptuously as flowers, and hid themselves in 
 the luxurious current of idleness which lapped loosely around her. 
 
 The afternoon passed charmingly, full of ease and pleasant quiet. 
 Miss Hender told them how Les Cloches had gone last night; of 
 Miss Leslie's spirited singing, of the cider song, of Joe Mortimer's 
 splendid miser scene, of Bret's success in the barcarole. One would 
 have thought, so eagerly did she speak of them, that she had herself 
 received the applause she described. Kate listened dreamily, and 
 the little girls sucked tofiy, staring the while with interested eyes. 
 
76 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 But neither that evening nor the next could Kate manage to see 
 Mr. Lennox, On both occasions he came in very late, and what 
 caused her nearly to despair was that he ordered no breakfast in 
 the house, and was away before she was down. She tormented 
 herself trying to find reasons for his absence, and it pained her to 
 think fcliat it might be because the breakfasts were not to his taste. 
 It seemed to her strange, too, that when a man cared to walk about 
 the potteries with a woman, and had talked as nicely as he had done 
 to her, that he should not take the trouble to come and see her, if 
 it was only to say good morning ; and in a thousand different ways 
 did these thoughts turn, change, twist, torture, break and become 
 united in Kate's brain, as she sat sewing opposite Miss Hender, in 
 the workroom. This young woman had ceased talking about Mr. 
 Lennox. She had made up her mind that there was sometliing 
 between the stage-manager and her employer, and it irritated her 
 when Kate assured her that she had not seen him for the last two 
 days. On her side, too, Kate was not very successful in the pursuit 
 of information, for Miss Hender, determined to be avenged, 
 said she had not noticed that Mr. Lennox limped in any way, 
 whereas Mrs. Ede declared that his walk was almost that of a 
 cripple. 
 
 This threw Kate into a fever of excitement, and inventing a 
 fabulous excuse for early rising, she left her husband's room at 
 seven o'clock next morning, and took up her post to wait for him in 
 the kitchen. But this ruse was not successful. Mr. Lennox did 
 not come down till ten, and at that moment she was serving a 
 customer in the shop, and he darted out at the side door. Whether 
 he had done this on purpose to avoid her, or whether it was the 
 result of chance, Kate passed the morning in considering. She had 
 hitherto succeeded in completely ignoring their ridiculous fall amid 
 the teacups, but the memory of it now surged up in her mind ; and 
 certain coarse details, which she had forgotten, continued to recur 
 to her with a singular persistency, and deaf to Miss Hender's con- 
 versation, she sat sullenly sewing, hating even to go down to the 
 shop to attend when Mrs. Ede called from below that there was a 
 customer waiting. 
 
 About three o'clock Mrs. Bde's voice was heard. 
 
 "Kate, come down ; there is someone in the shop." 
 
7G A MUMMEli'S WIFE. 
 
 Passing round the counter she found herself face to face with a 
 well-dressed woman. 
 
 " I was recommended here by Mrs. West," the lady said, after a 
 slight hesitation, " to buy a set of baby clothes." 
 
 " Is it for a new-born infant? " Kate asked, putting on her shop 
 airs. 
 
 ," Well, the baby is not born yet, but I hope will soon be.'' 
 
 " Oh ! I beg pardon," said Kate, casting a rapid glance in the 
 direction of the lady's waist. 
 
 The baby clothes were kept in a box under the counter, and in a 
 few moments Kate reappeared with a bundle of flannels. 
 
 " You will find these of the very best quality ; if you will feel the 
 warmth of this, ma'am," she said, spreading out something that 
 looked like two large towels. 
 
 The lady seemed satisfied with the quality, but from her manner 
 of examining the strings Kate judged she was at her first confine- 
 ment, and with short phrases and quick movements proceeded to 
 explain how the infant was to be laid in the middle, and how the 
 tapes were to be tied across. 
 
 " And ypu will want a hood and cloak ? We have some very 
 nice ones at two pounds ten ; but, perhaps, you would not like to 
 give so much ? " ' 
 
 Without replying to this question the lady asked to see the 
 articles referred to, and then beneath the men's shirts, which hung 
 just above their heads, the two women talked with many genuine airs 
 of mystery and covert subtlety. The lady spoke of her fears, of how 
 much she wished the next fortnight was over, of her husband, of 
 how long she had been married. She was Mrs. Wood, the stationer's 
 wife in Piccadilly. Kate said she knew her shop perfectly, and 
 assumed a sad expression of countenance when in her turn she was 
 asked if she had any children. On lior replying in the negative, 
 Mrs. Wood said, with a sigh of foreboding, ' ' That people were 
 possibly just as well without them." 
 
 It was at this unpropitious moment that Mr. Lennox entered. 
 A quick expression of surprise passed over Kate's face, and she tried 
 to sweep away and to hide up the things that were on the counter. 
 Mrs. Wood was mildly embarrassed, and with a movement of retiring 
 she attempted to resume the conversation. 
 
 " Very well, Mrs. Ede," she said, " I quite agree with you 
 
 and I will call again about those pocket-handkerchiefs. " 
 
 But Kate, in her anxiety not to lose a chance of doing a bit of 
 business, foolishly replied — 
 
 " Yes, but about those baby clothes— shall I send them, Mrs. 
 Wood?" 
 
 Mrs. Wood murmured something inaudible in reply, and as she 
 sidled and backed out of the shop she bumped against Mr. Lennox. 
 
 He apologised with ease, lifted his big hat, and strove to make 
 way for her — a difhcult matter, they both being large people. At 
 last, by his getting into a corner, it became possible for the lady to 
 
A HUMMER'S WIFE. 77 
 
 passAand when this feat, amid bhishes and confusion, had been 
 aohieVed, he took a step forwards, and leaning on the counter, said 
 in a hurried voice : 
 
 " I aave been waitmg to see you for the last two days. Where 
 have ydu been hiding yourself ? " 
 
 The taexpected question disconcerted Kate, who, instead of 
 answeriii^ him coldly and briefly as she had intended, said : 
 
 "Wh;;^, here; where did you expect me to be? But you have 
 been out 'ever since," she added simply. 
 
 " It was not my fault — the business I have had to do i I was in 
 London yesterday, and only got back last night in time for the show. 
 There was talk of our boss drying up, but I think it is all right. 
 I'll tell you about that another time. I have an appointment now, 
 and had only time to cut round here for a few minutes. I want 
 you to come to the theatre to-morrow night. Here are some tickets 
 for the centre circle. I'U come and sit with you when I get the 
 curtain up, and we'll be able to talk. " 
 
 The worm does not easily realize the life of the fly, and Kate did 
 not understand. The rapidly stated facts whiilod and bewUdered 
 her, and she could only say, in answer to his again repeated 
 question, 
 
 " Oh, I should like it so. much, but it is impossible ; if my 
 mother-in-law heard of it I don't know what she would say." 
 
 " Well, then, come to-night ; but no, confound it, I shall be busy 
 all to-night. Hayes, our acting manager, has been drunk for the 
 last three days ; he can't even make up the returns. No, no ; you 
 must come to-morrow night. Come with Miss Hender ; she's one 
 of the dressers. I'll make that all right ; you can tell her so from 
 me. WOl you promise to come ? " 
 
 " I should like it so much ; but what excuse can I give for being 
 out till half -past ten at night ? " 
 
 *' You needn't stay till then ; you can leave before the piece is 
 half over. Say you went out for a walk." 
 
 The most ingenious and complete fiction that Mr. Lennox's 
 inventive brain might have worked out would not have appeased 
 Kate's fears so completely as the simple suggestion of a walk, and as 
 she remembered how successfully she had herself made use of the 
 same excuse, her face lit up with a glow of intelligence. 
 
 " Then, you will come," he said, taking her look for an answer. 
 
 " I'll try," she replied, still hesitating. 
 
 " Then, that's all right," he murmured, pressing two or three 
 pieces of paper into her hands, which he held for a moment 
 aflectionately in his. " You don't know how I have been thinking 
 of you ever since ; if you did, you would lilce me better than you do. 
 
 Kate smUed slowly, and a slight flush for a moment illuminated 
 the pale olive complexion. 
 
 " I dreamt that we were going up to London together, and that 
 your head was lying on my shoulder, and it was so nice and pleasant, 
 and when I woke up I was disappointe.l." 
 
78 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 Kate shivered a little and drew back as if afraid ; and in the 
 pause which ensued Mr. Lennox remembered an appointment. 
 " I must be off now," he said, " there's no help for it ; but you 
 won't disappoint, will you ? The doors open at half -past six. If 
 you are there early I may be able to see you before the piece 
 begins." 
 
 With that, and a grand lift of the hat, the actor hurried away, 
 leaving Kate to examine the three pieces of paper he had given her. 
 With hesitating fingers she opened them. For the moment she 
 was incapable of thought, and she could not fix her attention even 
 sufficiently to read the large print that danced under her eyes. She 
 remembered that he had told her many things ; that he had been in 
 London, and that he had thought of her, that he had asked her to 
 meet him at the theatre to-morrow night, and that she had promised 
 to do so. But in her mind all was still vague until it flashed across 
 her mind that he had told her to confide in Miss Hender. Clearly 
 it was impossible for her to go to the theatre without her assistant 
 finding it out, therefore the best possible plan was to confide in 
 Miss Hender. 
 
 There was a subtle persuasiveness in the thought of having some- 
 one to whom she could talk of Mr. Lennox when he went away. 
 But, although of Miss Render's secrecy she had no doubt, she was 
 in no way disposed to let her know any more of her affairs than 
 suited her purpose, and she excited and fevered herself thinking 
 how she should approach the subject— how, in fact, she should lead 
 her assistant into believing that it was the play and not Mr. Len- 
 nox that she (Kate), was interested in. She thought also how she 
 should excuse herself when he came and sat by them during the 
 performance. A thousand insinuations occurred to her, but for dif- 
 ferent reasons she abandoned them one after the other. Her ideas 
 did not come to her smoothly, but with broken and jagged edges, 
 and every now and then she would awake from her tortuous reverie 
 to see Miss Render's bland and freckled face staring at her with a 
 look of sensual and imbecile curiosity. At last, as if with sudden 
 coUapse, she lifted her head from her work and explained in the 
 simplest words possible that she would like to go to the theatre. 
 As she had expected, there was first a stare of sheer astonishment, 
 and then a look of honest satisfaction spread from the fat chin to 
 the crinkly hair, and at the risk, as she expressed it, of stalling her 
 mistress off, she asked many questions. This was annoying, and 
 Kate grew fretful. She wished to leave everything, the facts as 
 well as her conception of them, in the vague ; and when Miss Hen- 
 der wanted to know if she was real spoons on the actor, she de- 
 clared she would rather not go near the theatre at all if it made 
 people suppose such things. Whereupon Miss Hender took a view 
 less carnal, and in little brief phrases the two women discussed how 
 the slip should be given to old Mrs. Bde. The idea of the walk was 
 not approved of, it was too simple ; but on this point Kate would 
 take no advice, although she accepted the suggestion that she was 
 
XI. iH U lYlIllILXV O VVlJ-'Ul. 
 
 ^ ^At^Pf^^^^' ^"<^ under the pretext of changing her petticoat, 
 shouis fold her hat into her mantle and tie the two behind her just 
 as sheWould a bustle. This device was not without ingenuity, but 
 
 M^ V'^^ ^'^ "^^'^ difficult to put it into practice. 
 
 ' S^^ ^^ °^^ °^ ^^^' ^^^ having been deprived of speech for 
 ^T^ irll^ ^^^^ ^® garrulity was excessive. He followed Kate 
 into thel back-room, driving her nearly distracted with questions 
 about thi shop, his health, his mother, and Mr. Lennox, whom he 
 declared he was mighty anxious to see. 
 
 However, by a great deal. of manoeuvring, she managed to tie up 
 and carryj away unperceived the things she wanted. In doing all 
 this she was certainly not free from certain twinges of conscience, 
 and she felt humiliated at the quantity of falsehood such an inno- 
 cent thing as spending an evening at the play seemed to entail. 
 But the excitement kept her up and prevented her from thinking 
 of anything but her promise to Mr. Lennox. Now that she came 
 to think of it, she was prepared to admit that she had probably done 
 wrong in promising ; but it was done now, and could not be undone. 
 Besides, it couldn't much matter ; he was going away to-morrow, 
 and it was her only chance of seeing him again. 
 
 The time went slowly, but it went ; and at five o'clock Mrs. 
 Ede came up to say she was going up the town to do a little market- 
 ing for Sunday, and to ask Kate to come down to the front kitchen, 
 where she could be in sight of the shop. Nothing, as Miss Hender 
 said, could have happened more fortunately, and, with many in- 
 structions as to . where they should meet, she hurried away. But 
 she had no sooner gone than Kate grew dismally frightened, for it 
 occurred to her that she was alone, and had no one to leave in 
 charge of the shop. This was a terrible oversight, but after a few 
 short mental struggles she resolved to turn the key in the door and 
 leave her mother-in-law to come in by the side way. This was de- 
 termined upon as she settled her hat before the toUette-glass that 
 stood on the counter for the use of customers. The mantle gave 
 her some uneasiness ; it did not seem to hang well, and she ex- 
 amined herself with ajl those gracious turns and balancings of the 
 hips and shoulders of a woman before a mirror. There was a twitch 
 to be given to the skirt, and a fingering to be done at the necktie, 
 and, after a second's hesitation, she decided that she would take a 
 pair of gloves from the window. It was impossible to wear those 
 that had been lying in her pocket for the last month. As she was 
 pulling on a pair of grey thread with the calm air of satisfaction 
 that prospective pleasure givss, she heard something stirring slowly 
 behind her. With the rapidity of an inspiration, it struck her that 
 her husband had come downstairs. Trembling, she waited for him 
 to appear, and, wheezing loudly, he dragged himself through the 
 doorway. Compared with the man she was going to see, he looked a 
 miserable little chap. After drawing a deep breath or two, he said — 
 
 " What — do you look so fri — frightened at ? You did — didn't ex- 
 pect fy) see me, did you ? " 
 
A lUUIUm J'jCV O VV1PI!j, 
 
 / 
 
 " No, I did not," Kate answered as if in a dream. ' 
 
 "Feeling a good deal better, I thou — ght I would come down, 
 but — but the staiTS — have tried me." 
 
 " So 1 see," said Kate, who was trying to think of an excuse ; 
 " but come into the kitchen and sit down on the sofa." 
 
 Mr. Ede walked with great difficulty, and it was some momenta 
 before he could speak again ; at last he said : 
 
 " But where are you going ? " 
 
 " I was thinking of taking a walk." 
 
 " You — ^you're always thinking of walking now." As far as the 
 wheezing would allow it to appear, there was an intonation of re- 
 proach in this last remark, but Mr. Ede felt too exhausted to ob- 
 ject definitely. 
 
 " I don't know that I am." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but if you are going out I'll mind the shop." 
 
 The shtm was Mr. Ede's great love. It was there his life was 
 centred. The counter was to him what a picture is to an artist, 
 what a book is to an author, what a child is to its mother. Nothing 
 put him in such good humour as when he himself had done a good 
 day's business ; nothing annoyed him so much as when Kate anti- 
 cipated him in answering a call from the shop, and his anger was 
 regulated in proportion to the purchases the customers had made ; 
 and to avoid being forestalled he would hang about the kitchen, 
 fidgetting in and out, rearranging the articles exhibited in the win- 
 dow. These enthusiasms were often a positive source of loss, for as 
 their business lay in articles peculiarly feminine, the presence of a 
 man attending was not at all desirable ; but Mr. Ede would not 
 consider this side of the question, and, his head resting on his hand, 
 he would remain over the counter slowly working out some cdm- 
 mercial problem, picking the while a bad tooth with a hairpin taken 
 from the drawers. 
 
 The present descent from his room had been influenced by mer- 
 cantile ardour, for since Kate had told of the sale of the aprons and 
 the order for the baby clothes, his mind had been harassed by vis- 
 ions of crowds of customers, aijd his ears deafened by a perpetual 
 jingling of half-crowns ; and, imable to endure torments so great 
 any longer, he had come down to take possession of his well-beloved 
 till. He was, therefore, in the hopes of a customer, not ill-pleased 
 at the prospect of getting rid of his wife. The complacency with 
 which he had made his last remark had revealed the truth to Kate, 
 and, her lips trembling with exultation, she said : 
 
 " You are sure you don't mind, dear ; yqu are sure you are strong 
 enough ? " 
 
 "I'm all right. You go on." 
 
 Without waiting for anything further, Kate, with her heart in her 
 mouth, hurried away. Her time was up, and fearing to miss Miss 
 Hender, she raced along, dodging the passers with quick turns and 
 twists. She was, as it were, blinded with the light and colour of 
 the theatre, which in imagination danced before her eyes, and she 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 81 
 
 saw arid heeded nobody until she suddenly heard someone calling 
 after hfer, " Kate 1 Kate 1 Kate 1 " Pale with apprehension, she 
 turned round and stood facing her mother-in-law. 
 
 "Where on earth are you going at that rate ? " said Mrs. Ede, 
 who earned a small basket on her arm. 
 
 " Only for a walk," Kate replied in a voice dry with enforced 
 calmness. 
 
 " Oh, for a walk ; I'm glad of that, it will do you good. But 
 wluch way are you going ? " 
 
 " Anywhere round about the town. Up on the hill, St. John's 
 Road." 
 
 "How .curious, I was just thinking of going back that way. 
 There's a fruiterer's shop where -you can get potatoes a penny a 
 stone cheaper than you can here." 
 
 If a thunderbolt had destroyed Hanley before her eyes at that 
 moment, it would not have appeared to her of the importance that 
 did this destruction of her evening's pleasure. A sort of deaf defi- 
 ance of Mrs. Ede beat in her ears, and it was with the bitterest 
 difficulty that she saved herself from saying straight out that she 
 was going to the theatre to see Mr. Lennox, and had a right to do 
 so if she pleased. Mastering her anger, however, with an effort she 
 said : 
 
 " But I like walking fast ; perhaps I walk too fast for you. Do 
 not come. " 
 
 " Oh, no, not at all. My old legs are as good as your young ones. 
 Kate, dear, what is the matter ? Are you not all right ? " she said, 
 seeing how cross her daughter-in-law was looking. 
 
 " Oh yes, I'm all right, but you do bother one so." 
 
 Tills very injudicious phrase led to a demonstration of affection 
 on the part of Mrs. Ede, and whatever were the chances of getting 
 rid of her before, they were now reduced to nothing. Hurrying 
 along by the young woman's side, she begged and besought, ques- 
 tioned and explained, until Kate felt that the top of her head was 
 lifting off, that she was going mad. This continued up one street, 
 down another. But Kate heard very little of what was said ; her 
 mind was too occupied in thinking how disappointed Mr. Lennox 
 would be. 
 
 That evening about eleven o'clock, when Mr, Lennox's heavy, 
 lolloping footstep was heard on the dark stairs, Kate stole out of 
 her workroom to meet him. He saw her as he scraped a match on 
 the wall ; dropping it he put out his hands towards her. 
 
 " Is that you, dear," he said. " Why didn't you come to the 
 theatre ? We had a magnificent house." 
 
 " I couldn't ; I met my mother-in-law." 
 
 The red embers of the match that had fallen on the floor now 
 went out, and the indication of their faces was swept away in the 
 darkness. 
 
 " Let me get a light, dear." The intonation of his voide as he said 
 " dear " caused her an involuntary feeling of voluptuousness. She 
 
82 A MUMMER'S VnVE 
 
 trembled as the vague outline of his big cheeks became clear in th 
 red flame of the match which he held in his hollowed hands. 
 
 " Won't you come in ? " she heard him say a moment after. 
 
 " No, I couldn't ; I must go upstairs in a minute. I only cam 
 to teU you, for I didn't want you to go away angry ; it was not m 
 fault. I should so much have liked to have gone to the theatre." 
 
 " It was a pity you didn't come ; I was waiting at the door fo 
 you. I could have sat by you the whole time." 
 
 Kate's heart died within her at thought of what she had lost, an 
 after a long silence she said very mournfully : 
 
 " Perhaps when you come back another time I shall be able to g 
 to the theatre." 
 
 " We've done so well here that we are going to get another date 
 rU write and let you know ? " 
 
 " Will you ? And wlU you come back and lodge here ? " 
 
 " Of course, and I hope that I sha'n't be so unlucky the next tim 
 as to fall down amid the crockery." 
 
 At this they both laughed, and the conversation came to a pause 
 
 " I must bid you good night now." 
 
 "But won't you loss me ? just a kiss, so that I may have some 
 thing to think of you." 
 
 " Why do you want to kiss me ? Tou have Miss Leslie to kiss." 
 
 "I never kissed Leslie; that^s all nonsense, and I want to kis 
 you because I love you." 
 
 Kate made no answer, and following her into the heavy darknee 
 that hung around the foot of the staircase he took her in his arm 
 and glued his lips to hers. She at first made no resistance, but th 
 passion of his kiss caused her a sudden revolt, and she stru^le 
 with him. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Lennox, let me go, I beg of you," she said, speakin 
 ■with her lips close to his. "Let me go, let me go; they mil mis 
 me.-" 
 
 Possibly fearing another faU, Mr. Lennox loosed his embrace, an- 
 she passed away from him. 
 
83 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 About eleven o'clock, the morning after the kiss in the dark, Mr. 
 Lennox was seen struggling with his luggage in the passage, and the 
 whole family, including Mr. Ede, who was now almost re-established 
 in health, had the pleasure of wishing him good-bye. The little 
 asthmatic, dressed out in his Sunday best — a threadbare black frock 
 coat buttoned across his thin chest, a red necktie, an ill-fitting pair 
 of grey trousers — came slowly down the stairs, followed by his wife 
 and mother, whom he was taking to church. The fat actor took off 
 his hat in his very largest manner to the ladies, and the bow was 
 done so deferentially, and seemed to betoken so much respect for 
 the sex, that even Mrs. Ede could not help thinking that Mr. 
 Lennox was very polite. As for Kate, the sweep of the arm, the 
 glistening of the teeth, the frizzly hair, the blue eyes, and the white 
 hand, quite overcame her, and she bent her head partly in shame 
 for the doings of last evening, partly to hide her sorrow at his leav- 
 ing. But Mr. Lennox did not make the eyes at her that she feared 
 ho would; on the contrary, he occupied himself solely with her 
 husband. Shaking hands with Mr. Ede, he asked him several ques- 
 tions about his asthma. Were there no cures for it? Did it not 
 affect the health ? 
 
 After his shop, tlie question that most interested Mr. Ede was his 
 malady. He kept an account of his attacks very much as racing- 
 men do of their horses, and when the subject was brought forward 
 there was one celebrated attack which he would back against any- 
 thing that had ever been known in the way of asthma. Mr. Lennox 
 listened, oblivious to everything in the interest of this now five- 
 year-old memory of a past shortness of breath, and it was not until 
 Mrs. Ede suggested that they would be late for church that it 
 occurred to him that his chance of catching the eleven o'clock train 
 was growing more and more remote. Then, with a hasty comment 
 on his dilatoriness, he caught up a parcel and a rug and shook hands 
 with them all. 
 
 With husband and wife he was equally sincere. His love and his 
 pity were equally Spontaneous, and he seemed to pass from one 
 sentiment to the other without any intermediate transition of 
 feeling. 
 
 However, he was off now. The cab rattled away, and Mr. Ede, 
 walking very slowly between his womankind, proceeded up the red, 
 
84 A MUMMER'S Wl¥K 
 
 silent streets towards the Wesleyan Church. After they had goni 
 some twenty or thirty paces, Mr. Ede said, 
 
 "There's no doubt but that Mr. Lennox is a very nice man— i 
 very nice man indeed ; you must admit, mother, that you wer( 
 wrong." 
 
 "He's polite if you will," replied Mrs. Ede, who for the las 
 few minutes had been considering the ungodliness of travelling oi 
 Sunday. 
 
 "Oh, don't walk so fast," said Mr. Ede. "I must stop to ge 
 breath." 
 
 " Well, then, we shall be late for church ! " 
 
 At this a little colour rose to his pallid cheeks, and, as far as hii 
 breath would allow, he abused his mother roundly. In his cross 
 grained disposition these sudden knots were of frequent occurrence 
 and then no words were too bitter or too hard for him to use. I 
 she wanted to make him ill again she was going the right way abou 
 it. A nice thing it would be if he had to leave the church in th( 
 middle of one of the hymns ! She did not remember when he hac 
 to be helped out during the sermon, and how very nice it looked 
 And if he had asthma, whose fault was it ? She did not remembe: 
 how she had not sent for the doctor when he caught the terribh 
 cold, two years ago, until he was at death's door ? Kate wiseh 
 refrained from joining in this discussion, and as she nourished i 
 little rancour against Mrs. Ede for having prevented her from going 
 to the theatre, there .was an abstract and remote pleasure in. hearing 
 tl^e old woman catch it, while she, Kate, lingered behind anc 
 dreamed vaguely of the big man who was to come back to see he: 
 in three months' time. And during church time she experiencec 
 the most delicious emotions. The unison of; the voices, the gran 
 deur of the simple chants, united to the beauty of the words 
 awakened in her a vague but elevated sentiment of extraordinary 
 joy — a joy that she had never experienced before ; and in the ful 
 ness of it she sang loudly, vigorously, like a thrush in the balm; 
 deeps of English woods on some May morning. Her voice, alway 
 strong and sweet, had never been heard to greater advantage, and i 
 seemed to carry with it such a flavour of faith that Mrs. Ede coul( 
 not but cast a glance of warm approval at her daughter-in-law. Sh 
 was too excited to think whether she was wrong or right in lovinj 
 Mr. Lennox. No such thought occurred to her, and when she sa 
 down to listen to the sermon, it was only to pass into an ecstacy a 
 delicious even as that which she had experienced during the singing 
 The voice of the preacher sounded as dimly as the sighing of th 
 breeze in the ears of a dreamer who counts the petals of the flower 
 between him and the sun. Everything swayed before her in a mist 
 the heads of the congregation appeared like a dark sea, and the whit 
 walls were clear spaces deep, in her imagination, as the depths c 
 the sky, where passed a multitude of infinitesimal sensations — word 
 spoken, tender answers that gave place at once to pleadings an 
 kisses, sensations like soft odours, desires as fragile as the tints c 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 85 
 
 roses : things and places the most different flowed in and out of each 
 other, producing a confused but harmonious vision of audible colour 
 and visible sound ; and the constantly recurring phrase, " He will 
 be back in three months," shed shuddering gleams of silver upon 
 her dream as will a passing wind over a calm sea. 
 
 Her happiness was in herself, and almost lasciviously she yielded 
 to the idleness of the day. During dinner she enjoyed herself 
 immensely in sitting still and languidly listening to her husband and 
 mother-in-law fighting over again the battle of the actor. Mr. Ede 
 had now recovered his temper, and was prepared to maintain calmly 
 his opinions regarding Mr. Lennox. He declared he, Mr. Ede, was 
 just as good a Christian as his mother, and for that very reason 
 refused to judge a fellow Christian. She answered that she did not 
 judge Mr. Lennox, but she had always been taught to believe that 
 people who did not go to church led godless lives. 
 
 Sunday was kept strictly in this family. Three services were 
 regularly attended. Kate, hoping to recover the sensations of the 
 morning, attended church in the afternoon. But the whole place 
 seemed changed. All her passion was gone. The cold, white 
 walls dulled her, and the people about her appeared to her in a 
 very small and miserable light. Unpleasant fancies, too, occurred 
 to her, and she suffered from nervousness and irritalsility, even to 
 the point of tliinking she was ill. She was glad to get home, and 
 after tea no entreaties could get her to leave the house. She longed 
 to be left alone, and Mrs. Ede's fussing and arguing jarred terribly 
 on her already excited feelings. Her thoughts had gone back to 
 the book she had fallen asleep over- last Sunday night when she sat 
 by her husband's bedside, and when the house was quiet she went 
 upstairs and fetched it. But after reading a few pages the heat of 
 the house seemed to her intolerable. There was no place to go to 
 for a walk except St. John's Boad, and there turning listlessly over 
 the pages of the old novel the time passed imperceptibly. It was 
 like sitting on the sea-shore ; the hUls extended like an horizon, and 
 as the sea-dreamer strives to pierce the long illimitable line of the 
 wave and follows the path of the sailing ship, so did Kate gaze out 
 of the sweeping green line that enclosed all she knew of the world, 
 and strove to look beyond into the country to where her friend was 
 going. 
 
 And the evening was superb. Northwood, with its hundreds of 
 sharp roofs and windows, slept under pale salmon-coloured tints, 
 and the bells of its church Bounde4 clearer and clearer at each 
 peal. Warm breaths, soft as caresses, passed over the red roofs of 
 Southwark, and below in the vast hollow of the valley all was still, 
 all seemed abandoned as a desert ; no whiff of white steam was blown 
 from the collieries ; no black cloud of smoke rolled from the factory 
 chimneys, and they raised their tall stems like a suddenly dis- 
 mantled forest to a wan, an almost colourless sky. The hills alona 
 maintained their unchangeable aspect. 
 
so 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Hbncefobth Kate's character gradually underwent a change, or 
 rather it seemed to be returning to -what it originally was. With 
 some modifications, all the salient points of her special temperament, 
 which seven years of married life had effaced, returned just as the 
 leaves do imperceptibly after the first breath of spring ; and this 
 metamorphosis was accomplished as silently as the alternations of 
 the seasons. There was no internal struggle, no analysis of mind, 
 no more consciousness of change than there is in the earth when she 
 oflfers March the first daffodils. The living clay brought up her 
 flowers as simply as the dead. 
 
 By the well-known ways, the dog comes back to his kennel, the 
 sheep to the fold, the horse to the stable, and even so did Kate 
 return to her sentimental self. One day as she was turning over the 
 local paper, her eyes, suddenly obeying a long-forgotten instinct, 
 wandered to the poetry column, and again, just as in old time, she 
 was caught by the same simple sentiments of sadness and longing. 
 She found there the usual song, in which regret rhymes toforget. 
 The same dear questions which usel to enchant seven years ago 
 were again asked in the same naive and childish fashion ; and they 
 touched her now as they had before. She refound all her old 
 dreams ; it seemed as if not a day had passed over her. 
 
 The hearts of the people change but little — if at all. Wlien rude 
 work and misery does not grind and trample all feeling out of them, 
 they remain ever children in their sentiments, understanding only 
 such simple emotions as correspond to their daily food. The con- 
 trary is seen in the woman of the world. At thirty she hates the 
 man she loved at twenty ; the books that charmed her when she 
 was a girl she learns to regard as contemptible. Her taste changes ; 
 she requires as she goes on more subtle and complex sensations, 
 just as the epicure in his progress from one dish to another demands 
 higher seasoning and stranger delicacies. 
 
 But in the woman of the people there is no intellectual advance- 
 ment ; she never leams to judge, to discriminate. "What pleases 
 her at one age does at another. Toil, if not sufficient to kill, pre- 
 serves. The rich man changes, the peasant remains the same ; and 
 what is witnessable in centuries is witnessable in a single life. The 
 years may freeze, but otherwise they do not alter a working womanV 
 heart ; and should a thaw come, the simple sentiments of her you'll 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 87 
 
 again burst into blossom. Her choice of books shows how little 
 time has taught her. The same grotesque adventures enrapture her 
 as they did before. She is as incapable at thirty as at twenty to 
 distinguish between the false and the true; — apparently even less so, 
 for if experience has influenced her taste at all, it has rendered it 
 more childish and ignorant, and now more than before is her imagi- 
 nation the palpitating prey of the absurd fiction, and now more than 
 ever does she relish the stories of supernatural heroism, abnegation, 
 and sacrifice. 
 
 But sentiment above all : true rhyming to ^ou, regret to forget, 
 part to heart, is sufficient to force her to tears, to produce a gross 
 exultation of the senses. The wording may be simple, the substance 
 commonplace ; but the mere statement that two people are separated 
 and love each other is sufficient. For her the art is never deficient, 
 and the same sing-song cry wUl never fail to give her the same 
 sensations of regret and longing. 
 
 And so it used to be with Kate. When she was a girl she col- 
 lected every scrap of love poetry that appeared in the local paper, 
 pasted it into a book, and in secret, devoured each little effusion 
 with all sorts of tender sadnesses. And now the events of the week 
 having roused her from the lethargy into which she had fallen, she, 
 as instinctively as an awakened child turns to the breast, turned to 
 the Hanley Courier for a poem. 
 
 The verses she happened to hit on were those after her own heart, 
 and just what were required to complete the transformation of her 
 character — 
 
 I love thee, I love thee, how fondly, how well 
 Let the years that are coming my constancy tell ; 
 I think of thee daily — my night-thoughts are thine. 
 In fairy-like vision thy hand presses mine : 
 And even though absent you dwell in my heart ; 
 Of all that is dear to me, dearest thou art. 
 
 In reading these lines Eate experienced a quick beating of the 
 heart, her eyes filled with tears, and wrapped in brightness, like a 
 far distant coast-line, a vision of her girlhood arose. She recalled, 
 with a joy that was giddy, that danced in her brain, as might sun- 
 light amid flowers, tiie emotions she once experienced, the books slie 
 had read, the poetry that she had gathered together, that was lying 
 upstairs in an old trunk pushed under the bed. It seemed to her 
 incredible that it had been forgotten so long ; her memory skipped 
 from one fragment to the other, picking up a word here, a phrase 
 there, until a remembrance of her favourite novel seized her, and 
 involuntarily substituting herself for the lady who used to read 
 Byron and Shelley under the green trees to the gentleman who 
 went to India in despair, she became the heroine of it all. 
 
 As the fitness of the comparison dawned upon her she yielded to an 
 ineffable sentimentof weakjiess: George was the husband's nameinthe 
 book she was Helene, and Dick was the lover to whom she could not, 
 
88 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 would not give herself, and who on that account Had gone away in 
 despair. The coincidence appeared to her as something marvellous, 
 something above nature, and she turned it over, examined it in hei 
 mind, as a chUd would a toy. And forgetful of her desire to over- 
 look her souvenirs of old times, she went upstairs to the workroom 
 hoping to be able to talk of Dick to Miss Hender. His Christian name 
 had come upon her ■suddenly ; her landlady instincts disappeared, 
 and henceforth she thought of him as Dick. 
 
 The missed visit to the theatre was a favourite theme of conversa- 
 tion between the two women. It afforded Miss Hender constant 
 opportunities of expressing her views concerning men, women, and 
 matrimony, of speaking of BUI, of expatiating on the pleasure of the 
 lark she had with him a night or two ago, and abusing Mrs. Ede. 
 Kate contributed little to these discussions ; she listened, h9,zarding 
 a word of reproof when the description of BUl's behaviour became 
 too coarse, and the denunciations of " the hag " grew disgracefvd. 
 She was sharp enough, however, not to make any confidences, and 
 she resented all Miss Hender's insinuations, declaring, whenever she 
 got the opportunity, that she did not admire Mr. Lennox, and thai 
 on the night in question she had been merfely desirous of seeing the 
 play. Miss Hender, although she did not believe, did the amiable, 
 and smiled graciously. She saw no reason for annoying her em- 
 ployer by doubting her words. Nothing would be gained by so 
 doing. ^ The workroom had now, according to Miss Hender's notion, 
 become a much more agreeable place of resort than ever it had been 
 before. All the religious humbug had been done away with, and 
 now you could talk pleasantly and agreeably without being afraid oi 
 being pulled up at every moment for one word or other. Kate 
 listened to what went on behind the scenes with greater indulgence, 
 and she seemed to have become accustomed to the idea that Bill and 
 Miss Hender were something more than friends. In like manner 
 she was more tolerant when " the hag's " religious opinions were 
 attacked. It was, of course, impossible to pass over the epithet of 
 hag without reproof ; it would be vricked to hear her faith sneered 
 at, and Kate made many efforts to control her assistant's abusive 
 language, only these efforts were not as firm or as conclusive as they 
 were formerly. She was conscious of these cowardices, and when 
 she was alone she often blamed herself bitterly. Remembering the 
 old woman's love, the sacrifices she would make for her, Kate felt 
 her heart sink ; she detested herself for it, and she often resolved 
 never more to allow Miss Hender to speak ill of Mrs. Ede. But the 
 temptation was so subtle, for when she was lamenting the monotony 
 of her life (a thing she did frequently npw), a little railing against 
 her mother-in-law was a high, plaintive note which her heart vaguelj 
 sighed for. Often she unconsciously led up to this point, and had 
 Miss Hender been contented to keep her place and do no more than 
 duly echo her mistress's sentiments, her companionship would have 
 left nothing to be desired. But the girl's brutal nature could nol 
 understand wandering thoughts, and she would insist on determining 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 89 
 
 the meaning of every chance complaint by some coarse and vigorous 
 epithet. As Kate often said, it was abominable to have her thoughts 
 interpreted in that way. She loved her mother-in-law very dearly, 
 she didn't know what she'd do without her, but— So it went on ; 
 struggle as she would with herself, there still lay at the bottom of 
 her mind, like a bone that a dog has hidden, the thought that Mrs. 
 Ede had prevented her from going that evening to the theatre, and 
 turn, twist, and wander away as she would, she came back to gnaw 
 it invariably. 
 
 Frequently Miss Hender had to repeat her questions before 
 she obtained an intelligible answer, and often, without even 
 vouchsafing a reply, Kate would nervously pitch her work aside, 
 saying she wanted to see what was going on in the shop. Dur- 
 ing these days very little work was done. Miss Hender was not 
 the person to wear out her fingers when conversation and sym- 
 pathy were all that were required of her, and Kate did not seem 
 to care_ how things went. Her thoughts were elsewhere ; she 
 was waiting impatiently for au opportunity for a couple of hours 
 during which she would not be disturbed, for the purpose of 
 overlooking the old trunk, full of the trinkets, books, verses, 
 souvenirs of her youth, which lay under her bed, pushed up against 
 .the wall. But a free hour was not a thing of frequent occurrence 
 in her lifa ; it was only possible on the condition of Mr. Ede being 
 out. Then her mother-in-law had to mind the shop, and Kate, at 
 the top of the house, would be sure of privacy. 
 
 There was no valid reason why she should dread being found out 
 in so innocent an amusement as turning over a few old papers. 
 Her fear was merely an unreasoned and nervous apprehension of 
 ridicule. Her sentimentality had, since she could remember, always 
 been a subject either of mourning or pity, and in allowing it to die 
 out of her heart she had learned to feel ashamed of it : the idea of 
 being discovered going back to it revolted her, and she did not know 
 which would annoy her the most : her husband's sneers or Mrs. Ede's 
 blank alarm. Kate remembered how she used to be told that books 
 likes novels had nothing in them that led the soul to God, and, there- 
 fore, must be wicked and sinful, and, resolved to avoid any further 
 . lectures on this subject, she devoted herself to the task of persuading 
 Mr. Ede to leave his counter and go out for a walk. This was not 
 easy, but she arrived at last at the point of helping him on with his 
 coat, handing him his hat, conducting him to the door, she bid him 
 not to walk fast and be sure to keep in the sun, and then went 
 upstairs, her mind relaxed, determined to enjoy herself to the ex- 
 tent of allowing her thoughts for an hour or so to wander at their 
 own sweet will. 
 
 The trunk was an oblong box covered with brown hair ; to pull 
 it out she had to get under the bed, and it was with trembling and 
 eager fingers that she untied the old twisted cords. Souvenir with 
 Kate was a cult, but her husband's indifference and her mother-in- 
 law's hard and determined opposition had forced it out of siglit : but 
 
9C A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 now, on the first encouragement, it gushed forth like a suppressed 
 fountain that an incautious hand had suddenly Kbera"ted. And with 
 what joy she turned over the old books ! She examined the colour 
 of the covers, she read a phrase here and there : they were all so 
 dear to her that she did not know wliich she loved the best. Scenes, 
 heroes, and heroines, long forgotten came back to her ; and in what 
 minuteness and how vividly ! It appeared to her that she could 
 not go on fast enough ; a flow of gladness had rushed to her head 
 until she wished and longed to scream forth her delight. Her 
 emotion gained upon her until it became quite hysterical. In 
 turning feverishly over some papers a withered pansy floated intri 
 her lap. Immediately the tears started to her eyes, and she pressed 
 it to her lips. There was a pitiful tenderness in the poor little 
 flower forgotten for so long, and there seemed to be a nveaning even 
 in its feeble flutter. Jt had sought refuge in her bosom, — and then 
 had fallen into her la" She could not remember when she gathered 
 it ; all memory of it had faded ; but it had come to her — ^it had 
 come back to her. Kate's feelings were overwrought ; her lips 
 quivered, the light seemed to be growing dark, and a sudden sense 
 of misery eclipsed her happiness, and unable to restrain herself any 
 longer, she burst into a tumultuous storm of sobs. 
 
 But after having cried for a few minutes her passion subsided, 
 and she wiped the tears from off her hands and face, and smiling 
 very sadly at herself, she continued her search. Everything 
 belonging to that time, verses and faded flowers, interested her ; 
 but her thoughts were especially centred on an old copybook in 
 which she kept the fragments of poetry that used to strike her fancy 
 at the moment. When she came upon it her heart beat quicker 
 and with mild sentiments of regret, she read through the slips 
 of newspaper. They were all the same, but as long as any one 
 was spoken of as being the nearest and the dearest Kate was 
 satisfied. Even the bonbon mottoes, of which there were large 
 numbers, drew from her the deepest sighs. The little Cupid firing 
 at a target in the shape of a heart, with " Tom Smith & Co., Lon- 
 don," printed in small letters underneath, did not prevent her from 
 sharing the sentiment expressed in the lines ; — 
 
 Let this cracker torn asunder 
 
 Be an emblem of my heart, 
 And as we have shared the plunder 
 
 Pray you of my love take part. 
 
 Sitting on the floor, with one hand leaning on the open trunk, 
 she read, letting her thoughts drift through past scenes and sensa- 
 tions. All was dreamy, far away ; and she turned over the debris 
 that the past had thrown up on the shore of the present, without 
 seeing any connection between it and the needs of the moment un- 
 til she lit on the following verses : — 
 
 Wearily I'm waiting for you, 
 For Your absence watched in vain ; 
 
A MtrMMEK'S WIFE. 9] 
 
 Ask myself the hopeless question. 
 Will he ever come again ? 
 
 All these years am I forgotten ? 
 
 Or in absence are you true ? 
 Oh ! my darling, 'tis so lonely 
 
 Watching, waiting here for you ! 
 
 Has your heart from its allegiance 
 
 Turned to greet a fairer face? 
 Have you welcomed in anothtr 
 
 Oharms you missed in me, and grace ? 
 
 Long, long years I have been waiting, 
 
 BcEiring up against my pain ; 
 All my thoughts and vows have vanished. 
 
 Will they ever come again ? 
 
 Yes, for woman's faith ne'er leaves her. 
 
 And my trust outweighs my fears, 
 And I stiU will wait his coming. 
 
 Though it may not be for years. 
 
 As the deer when it believes it has eluded the swift hunting ^ 
 hounds leaves the burning plains and plunges into the cool woodland 
 water, Kate bathed her tired soul letting it drink its fiU of this very 
 simple poem. Tenderly the sentiment came to her through the 
 weak words ; and melting with joy, she repeated them over and 
 over again. 
 
 At last her sad face lit up with a smUe. It had occurred to her 
 to send the poem that gave her so much pleasure to Dick. Like a 
 ray of sunlight the thought had flashed through her soul. It would 
 make him think of her when he was far away ; it would tell him 
 that she had not forgotten him. The idea pleased her so much that 
 it did not occur to her to think if she would be doing wrong in send- 
 ing these verses to her lodger, and with renewed ardour and hap- 
 piness she continued her search among her books. There was no 
 question in her mind as to which she would read, and she antici- 
 pated hours of delight in tracing resemblances between herself and 
 tlie lady who used to read Byron and Shelley to her aristocratic 
 lover. She feared at first she had lost this novel, but when it 
 was discovered it was put away for immediate use. The next 
 that came under her hand was also the story of a country doctor. 
 In this instance the medical hero had poisoned one sister to whom 
 he was secretly married in order that he might wed a second. Kate 
 at first hesitated, but remembering that there was an elopement, 
 with a carriage overturned in a muddy lane, she decided upon look- 
 ing through it again. Another book related with much pathos the 
 love of a young lady who found herself in the awkward predicament 
 of not being able to care for anyone but her groom, who was lucky 
 enough to be the possessor of the most wonderful violet eyes. The 
 fourth described the distressing position of a young clergyman, who 
 when he told the lady of his choice that his means for the moment 
 
92 A MUMMBB'S WIFE. 
 
 did not admit of his taking a wife, was answered tliat it did not 
 matter, for she was, in the meantime, quite willing to be his mis- 
 tress. This devotion and self -sacrifice touched Kate so deeply that 
 she was forced to pause in her search to consider how those who 
 have loved much, are forgiven. But at this moment Mrs. Ede en- 
 tered. 
 
 " Oh, Kate ! what are you doing there ?" 
 
 Although the question was asked in an intonation of voice affect- 
 ing to be one only of astonishment, there was nevertheless in it an 
 accent of reproof, which, in her present mood, was especially irritat- 
 ing to Kate. A deaf anger against her mother-in-law's interference 
 oppressed her, but getting the better of it she said quietly though 
 somewhat sullenly — 
 
 "You always want to know what I am doing ! I declare one 
 can't turn round but you're after me, just like a shadow." 
 
 " What you say is unjust, Kate," replied the old woman warmly. 
 " I'm sure I never pry after you." 
 
 " Well, anyhow, there it is ; I'm looking out for a book to read 
 in the evenings, if you want to know." 
 
 " I thought you had given up reading those vain and sinful books ; 
 they cannot do you any.good." 
 
 " What harm can they do me 1 " 
 
 " They turn your thoughts from Christ. I have looked into 
 them to see that I may not be speaking wrongly, and I have found 
 them nothing but vain accounts of the world and its worldliness. I 
 did, not read far, but what I saw was a lot of excusing of women who 
 could not love their husbands, and much sighing after riches and 
 pleasure. I thanked God you had given over such things. I be- 
 lieved your heart was turned towards Him. Now it grieves me bit- 
 terly to see I was mistaken." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean. Ralph never said that there was 
 any harm in my reading tales." 
 
 " Ah ! Ralph, I'm afraid, has never set a good example. I would 
 not blame him, for he's my own son, but I would wish to see him 
 not prizing so highly the liings of the world. " 
 
 " We must live, though," Kate answered, without quite under- 
 standing what she said. 
 
 " Live, of course we have to live ; but it depends how we live 
 and what we live for — whether it be to indulge the desires of the 
 flesh, the desire of the eye, or to regain the image of God, to have 
 the design of God again planted in our souls. This is what we 
 shoiUd live for, and it is only thus that we shall find true happiness." 
 
 Though these were memories of phrases heard in the pulpit, they 
 were uttered by Mrs. Ede with a fervour, with a candour of belief, 
 that took from them any appearance of artificiality ; and Kate did 
 not notice that her mother-in-law was using words that were not 
 habitual to her. 
 
 " But what do you want me to do ? " said Kate, who began to feel 
 frightened. 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 911 
 
 " To go to Christ, to love Him. He is all we have to help us, 
 and they who love Him truly are guided as to how to live right- 
 eously. Whether we eat or drink, or whatever we do', it springs 
 from or leads to the love of God aiid man." 
 
 These words stirred Kate to her very entrails ; a sudden gush of 
 feeling brought the tears to her eyes, and she was on tlie point of 
 throwing herself into Mrs. Ede's arms. 
 
 The temptation to have a good cry was almost irresistible, and 
 the burden of her pent-up emotions was more than she could bear. 
 But she hesitated, communing the while rapidly witliin herself, un- 
 til an unexpected turn of thought harshly put it before her that she 
 was being made a fool of — that she had a perfect right to look 
 through her books and poetry, and that Miss Herjder's sneers were 
 no more than she deserved for allowing a mother-in-law to bully 
 her. Then the tears of sorrow became those of anger, and striving 
 to speak as rudely as she could, she said — 
 
 " I don't talk about Christ as much as you, but He judges us by 
 our hearts and not hy our words. You would do weU to humble 
 yourself before you come to preach to others." 
 
 " Dear Kate, it is because I see you interested in things that have 
 no concern with God's love that I speak to you so. A man who 
 never knows a thought of God has been staying here, and I fear he 
 has. led you — " 
 
 At these words Kate, who had thrown the last papers into the. 
 trunk, and pushed it away, turned round fiercely. 
 
 "Led me into what? What do you mean? Mr. Lennox was 
 here because Ralph wished. I think that you should know better 
 than to say such things. I do not deserve it." 
 
 On this Kate left the room, her face clouded and trembling with 
 a passion that she did not quite feel. To just an appreciable extent 
 she was conscious that it suited her convenience to quarrel with her 
 mother-in-law. She was tired of the life she was leading, her whole 
 heart was in her novels and poetry, and determined to take in the 
 London Reader or Joii/rnal, she called back to Mrs. Ede that she was 
 going to consult Ralph on the matter. 
 
 At this time Mr. Ede was in capital spirits. The affairs in the 
 shop were going on more satisfactorily than usual, a fact which he 
 did not fail to attribute to his superior commercial talents. " A 
 business like theirs went to the bad," he declared, " when there 
 was not a man to look after it. Women so much preferred being 
 attended to by one of the other sex ; " and beaming with artificial 
 smiles, the little man measured out yards of ribbon, and suggested 
 " that they had a very superior thing in the way of petticoats just 
 come from Manchester." His health was also much improved, so 
 much so that his asthmatic attack seemed to have done him good. 
 A little colour flushed his cheeks around the edges of the thick beard. 
 In the evenings after supper, when the shop was closed, an hour 
 before they went up to prayers, he would talk of the sales he had 
 made during the day, and speak authoritatively of the possibilities 
 
94 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 of eiilargiiig the business. According to him the thing to do was to 
 find some one in London who would forward them the very latest 
 fashions ; of course not all the fashions, but, for example, a person 
 who would be clever enough to pick out and send them some stylish 
 but simple dress which B[ate could copy. He would work the ad- 
 vertisements, and if the articles were well set in the window he 
 would answer for the rest. The great difficulty was, of course, the 
 question of frontage, and Mr. Bde's face grew grave as he thought 
 of his wretched little windows. "Nothing," he said, "could be 
 done without plate-glass, " and the wonders he saw behind a single 
 pane dazzled him very much as the possibility of a six-inch tele- 
 scope did Galileo. Five hundred pounds would buy out the fruit- 
 seller, and throw the whole place into one. Then they would require 
 a couple of assistants ! These dreams of attainable earthly grandeur 
 caused Mr. Ede to sigh deeply ; and Kate, interested in all that 
 was imaginative, would tlien raise her eyes from the pages of her 
 book, and ask if there was no possibility of realising this grand 
 future. But as the days went by an unaccustomed tenderness 
 would fill her eyes as she looked at him. She was reading a novel 
 that affected her profoundly. It was full of the most singular and 
 exciting scenes, and she thought that under the circumstances she 
 would have felt and acted just as the heroine did. As for the hero, 
 had he asked her for her life she would wiUingly have laid it down 
 at his feet. So charming was he, so good and so true, that heaven 
 seemed on her lips while she read the grand and elevated thoughts 
 that he gave utterance to on all occasions. Never did Kate remem- 
 ber, even when she was a child, < having been impassioned and en- 
 raptured by a novel to the same extent as she was by this. For 
 the emotions she drew from current fiction when a girl were ab- 
 stract and diffused. She sighed over and was sorry for those who 
 were disappointed in love, but now there was a shade of jealousy 
 in her mind, and unconsciously she regretted that it was not her 
 lot to captivate handsome young lords, and that no occasions pre- 
 sented themselves in her life for romantic self-sacrifices. In old 
 times she was contented to accept the heroes and heroines as beings 
 as far beyond her as the world beyond the hills ; now she wished 
 to know both, and devoured by an ardent thirst, she worked out 
 preposterous resemblances between the people she read of and those 
 vvho moved within, or had passed across, the narrow circle of her 
 life. Dick, of course, came in for the lion's share of these imagin- 
 ings, and successively she saw him as a French noble being led to 
 execution, an Italian brigand in love with a young girl who sat per- 
 petually in the oriel window' of a castellated castle, as an English 
 lord sacrificing everything for a lovely maiden. Indeed, the dis- 
 guises in whicti he appeared to her were as numerous and as fantastic 
 as those he assumed in his opera-bouffes. But he was not the only 
 person she idealised ; everyone she knew had to be likened, 
 either to their advantage or disadvantage, to someone ; and in her 
 present book " Prince Cliarmian, " she had discovered a character 
 
A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 95 
 
 who reminded her of her husband. This person was a courtier at 
 the court of Louis XIV. He said sharp things, and often made 
 himself disagreeable, but there was nevertheless something about 
 him that pleased, and under the influence of this fancy she began 
 to find new qualities, the existence of which she had not before sus- 
 pected, in Ralph. Sometimes even the thought struck her that if 
 he had been always like what he was now she would have loved him 
 better. One evening as she was following out the resemblance be- 
 tween him and the cross-grained courtier, she came across a phrase 
 that amused her immensely. After a moment her smile .deepened, 
 and then as the humour of the scene continued to tickle her she 
 burst out laughing. 
 
 " What are you laughing at, Kate ? " said her husband, looking 
 admiringly at her pretty face. Mrs. Ede sternly continued her 
 knitting, but Ralph seemed so pleased, and begged so good-nat- 
 uredly to be told what the matter was, that the temptation to do ao 
 grew irresistible. 
 
 " You won't be angry if I tell you 1 " 
 
 " Angry, no. Why should I be angry ? " 
 
 " You promise ? " 
 
 " Yes, I promise," replied Ralph, extremely curious. 
 
 " Well then, there is a olia — cha — rac — ter so — so like — " 
 
 " Oh I if you want to tell me don't laugh like that. I can't hear 
 a word you are saying." 
 
 " Oh, it is so — so— so like — " 
 
 " Yes, but do stop laughing and tell me." 
 
 At last Kate had to stop laughing for want of breath, and she 
 said, her voice stUl trembling : 
 
 " Well, there's a fellow in this book — you promise not to be 
 angry ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I promise." 
 
 " Well then, there's someone in this book that does remind me 
 so much — of you — that is to say, when you are cross, not as you are 
 now." 
 
 At this announcement Mrs. Ede looked up in astonishment, and 
 she seemed as hurt as if Kate had slapped her in the face. Ralph's 
 face, on the contrary, beamed with the delight of gratified vanity. 
 His front teeth showed through the heavy moustache, they were 
 set wide apart, but the space had been filled in with some white 
 substance, which always looked as if it were going to fall out. 
 Kate, whenever she noticed it looked aside. Ralph, who knew 
 nothing of feminine revulsions of feelings, with eager curiosity 
 begged of her to read the passage. Without giving it a second 
 thought she began, but she had not read half-a-dozen words before 
 Mrs. Ede had gathered up her knitting and was preparing to leave 
 the room. 
 
 " Oh, mother, don't go ! I assure you there's no harm." 
 
 " Leave her alone. I'm sick of all this nonsense about religion. 
 I should like to know what harm we're doing," said Ralph. 
 
96 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 Kate made a movement to rise, but lie laid his hand upon her 
 »rm, and a moment after Mrs. Ede was gone. 
 
 ' ' Oh, do let me go and fetch her," exclaimed Kate. " I shouldn't, 
 I know I shouldn't, read these books. It pains her so much to see 
 me wasting my time. She must be right." 
 
 "There's ncj right about it ; she'd bully us all if she had her 
 way. Do be quiet, Kate ! Do as I tell you, and let's iiear the 
 Btory." 
 
 Eolinquishing another half-hearted expostulation which rose to 
 her lips, Kate commenced to read. Ralph was enchanted, and 
 deliciously tickled at the idea that he was like someone in print, he 
 chuckled under Ms breath. Soon they came to the part that had 
 struck Kate as being so particularly appropriate to her husband. 
 It concerned a scene between this ascetic courtier and a handsome, 
 middle-aged widow who was passionately in love with him. Fre- 
 quently she had given him to understand what her feelings were on 
 the subject of himself, but on every occasion he had pretended to 
 misunderstand them. The humour of the whole thing consisted in 
 the innocence of the lady, who fancied she had not explained herself 
 sufficiently ; and harassed with this idea, she pursued the courtier 
 from the Court ball into the illuminated gardens, and there told 
 him, and in language that admits of no doubt, how she wished to 
 marry him. The courtier was indignant, and answers her so tartly 
 that Kate, even in reading it a second time over, could not refrain 
 from fits of laughter. 
 
 "It is — is so — s — o like what you w — wo— uld say if a wo— wo — 
 man were to fol — low you," she said, with the tears rolling down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 " Is it really ? " asked Ralph, joining in the laugh, although in a 
 way that did not seem to be very genuine. The fact was. that he 
 felt just a little piqued at being thought so indififerent to the charms 
 of the other sex. He looked at his wife for a moment or two in a 
 curious sort of way, trying to think the while how he should express 
 himself. At last he said : 
 
 " I am sure that if it was my own Kate who was there I shouldn't 
 answer so crossly." 
 
 Kate ceased laughing, and looked up at him so suddenly that she 
 increased liis embarrassment, but the remembrance that he was 
 after all only speaking to his wife soon came to his aid, and con- 
 fidentially he sat down beside her on the sofa. Her first impulse 
 was to draw away from him — it was so long since he had spoken to 
 her thus. Then she remembered that he was her husband. 
 
 " Could you never love me again if I were very kind to you ? " 
 
 " Of course I love you, Ralph, but — " 
 
 " So much the more reason. It wasn't my fault if I was ill — 
 and you don't feel inclined to love anyone when you're ill. Give 
 me a kiss, dear." 
 
 A recollection of how she had kissed Dick flashed across her 
 mind, but in an instant it was gone ; and, bending her head, she 
 
A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 97 
 
 laid her lips to her husband's. It in no way disgusted her to do so ; 
 she was glad of thd occasion. She was only surprised at the dull 
 and obtuse anxiety she experienced. They then spoke of indifferent 
 things, but the flow of conversation was often interrupted by com- 
 plimentary phrases. While Ralph discoursed on his mother's non- 
 sense in alw&ys dragging religion into everything, Kate congratu- 
 lated him on looking so much better ; and, as she told him of the 
 work that she would, at all costs, have to get through before Friday, 
 he either squeezed her hand or said that her hair was getting 
 thicker, longer, and more beautiful than ever. 
 
 ***** * 
 
 Next morning Kate received a letter from Dick, saying he was 
 coming to Hanley on his return visit, and hoped that he would be 
 able to have his old rooms. 
 
an 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A DESIRE to talk to Miss Hender about Mr. Lennox took preced- 
 ence in Kate's mind over any other thought. But that young 
 person would not arrive for another hour, and Kate could not put 
 off speaking to her husband. So she profited by an occasion 
 when Mrs. Ede was present to hand him the letter. Nothing had 
 ever seemed to her so important as that Dick should not be pre- 
 vented from staying at her house. It was therefore with bated 
 breath that she waited for Ralph to speak. At last his answer 
 came, and it was satisfactory. He declared that they could not 
 have a nicer lodger than Mr. Lennox, and the little he had seen of 
 him made him only desirous of renewing the acquaintance. These 
 were Ralph's shop phrases, and he continued all through breakfast 
 to eulogise Mr. Lennox. Mrs. Ede, whose opinions were thus 
 directly attacked, said not a word, but sat munching her bread and 
 butter with apparently stoical indifference. But it was not per- 
 mitted to anyone to be indifferent to Ralph's wishes, and deter- 
 mined to resent the impertinence, he derisively asked his mother if 
 she had any objections. 
 
 "You're right to do what you like with your rooms ; but I should 
 like to know why you so particularly want this actor here ? One 
 would think he was a dear friend of yours, to hear you talk. Is it 
 the ten shillings a week he pays for his room you're hankering after, 
 and the few pence you make out of his breakfasts ? " 
 
 " Of course I want to keup my rooms let, and am not going to 
 throw away ten shillings a week. Perhaps you'd like to pay it 
 yourself ; you could have s,ll the clergymen in the town to see you 
 once a week, and a very nice tea-party you'd make in the sitting- 
 room." 
 
 Ralph was very cross that morning, and he continued to badger 
 Ids mother with the bitterest taunts he could select. Kate did not 
 interfere, and quite calmly she watched him work himself into a 
 passion. As his rage increased his ideas grew loftier, until he 
 declared that he had other reasons, more important than the ten 
 shillings a week, for wishing to have Mr. Lennox staying in the 
 house. This statement caused Kate just a pang of uneasiness, and 
 she begged for an explanation. Partly to reward her for having 
 backed him up in the discussion, and through a wish to parade his 
 own farseeing views, he declared that Mr. Lennox might be of great 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 99 
 
 use to them, if he were so inoUned, in their little business. Kate 
 could not repress a look of triumph : she knew now that nothing 
 would keep him from having Mr. Lennox in the house ; and wishing 
 to conclude the matter she said, as she rose from table — 
 
 " Shall I write to him to-day, then, and say that we can let him 
 have the rooms from next Monday ? " 
 
 Ralph replied " Of course," and Kate went upstairs with Miss 
 Render, who had just come in. Then when the door of the work- 
 shop was closed the little girls were told to move aside — that there 
 was a lot of cutting to be done. This was said preparatory to telling 
 them, a little later on, that they were too much in the way, and 
 would have to go down and work in the front kitchen under the 
 superirtendence of Mrs. Ede. Miss Hender was at the machine, 
 stitching up the body of a dress, but as Kate had a dressing-gown 
 " in order," she unrolled the blue silk and fidgeted round the table 
 as if she had not enough room for laying out her pattern-sheets. 
 Miss Hender noticed these manoeuvres witii some surprise, and when 
 Kate ha(| said, " Now, my dear children, I'm afraid you are very 
 much in my way ; you'd better go downstairs," she looked up with 
 the expression of one who expects to be told a secret. This manifest 
 certitude that something was coming discountenanced Kate, and she 
 thought it would be better after all to say nothing about Mr. Lennox, 
 butagain changing her mind, she said, assuming an air of indifierence : 
 
 " Mr. Lennox will be here on Monday. I've just got a letter 
 from him." 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad ; for perhaps, this time, it will be possible to 
 have one spree on the strict q.t." 
 
 Kate was thinking of exactly the same thing, but Miss Hender's 
 crude expression took the desire out of her heart, and she remained 
 sUent. 
 
 " I am sure 'tis for you he's coming," said the assistant. "I know 
 he admires you ; I could see it in his eyes. You can always see if 
 a man likes you by his eyes." 
 
 Although it afforded Kate a great deal of pleasure to think that 
 . Dick liked her, it was irritating to the last degree to hear her 
 feelings thus spoken of, and she had begun to regret that she 
 had ever mentioned the subject at all, when Miss Hender said : 
 
 " But what's the use of his coming if you can't get out ? A man 
 always expects a girl to be able to go out with hiwi. The ' hag ' is 
 sure to be about, and even if you did manage to give her the slip, 
 there's your husband. Lord ! I hadn't thought of that before. 
 What frightful luck ! Don't you wish he'd get ill again ? Another 
 fit of asthma would suit us down to the ground." 
 
 To hear expressed in audible words what we are ashamed to 
 admit even remotely to ourselves is the aoutest pain. The blood 
 rushed to Kate's face, and snapping nervously with the scissors in 
 the air, she said : 
 
 " I don't know how you can bring yourself to speak in that way.. 
 How can you think that I would have my husband ill so that I might 
 
100 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 go to the theatre with Mr. Lennox 1 What do you fancy there is 
 between us that makes you say such a thing as that ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I really don't know," Miss Hender answered with a toss of 
 her head ; " if you are going to be as cross and hoighty-toighty as 
 all that, there's no use talking." 
 
 On that the conversation fell to the ground. Kate thought it very 
 provoking that Miss Hender could never speak except inthat coarse 
 way. She was a very nice girl, very good-hearted, and it would be 
 nice, convenient indeed, to be friendly with her ; but if she could 
 not keep herself from making such nasty remarks, there was no 
 help for it but to treat her just as a workwoman at so much a day. 
 Quite unwittingly Miss Hender had inflicted a very deep stab ; the 
 iron rankled deep in Kate's heart. It would have given her infinite 
 satisfaction to have said something disagreeable to her freckled-faced 
 friend, but remembering that it would be pleasant to go to the 
 theatre, and that the only chance of being able to do so was by their 
 remaining friends, she bit her lips and smothered her anger. Be- 
 sides, she had let Miss Hender into a good many of her secrets, and 
 it would be most inconvenient to have her turn round on her. Not 
 indeed that she supposed she'd be wicked enough to do anything of 
 the kind, but still — 
 
 Influenced by these considerations, Kate determined not to quar- 
 rel, but to avoid speaking of Mr. Lennox for the future, at least 
 until there was a definite reason for mentioning his name, and even 
 with her own people she maintained until Dick arrived an attitude 
 of shy reserve, declining on all occasions to discuss the subject 
 either with her husband or mother-in-law. " I don't care whether 
 he comes or not ; decide your quarrels as you like, I have had 
 enough of them," was her invariable answer. This air of indiffer- 
 ence ended by annoying Ralph, but she was willing to do that if it 
 saved her from being forced into expressing an opinion — that was 
 the great point ; for, with a woman's instinct, she had already 
 divined that she would not be left out of the events of the coming 
 week. But there was still another reason, one hidden away almost 
 a secret from herself, and the most feminine of them all. Kate was 
 somehow a little ashamed of her own treachery, and she fancied it 
 would be less deceitful to remain silent. Otherwise her conscience 
 did not trouble her ; it was crushed beneath a weight of desire and 
 expectancy, and for three or four days she moved about the house 
 in a dream. Like a star in still waters, her heart burned within 
 her, and, in fear of breaking its fiery peace, she avoided the family 
 arguments. But in the desert silence of her brain she could almost 
 hear the striking of the hours, in a great lucidity of thought she 
 could almost see the sands of the minutes as they slid and fell into 
 the void behind, and, like one in sleep, she submitted to her hus- 
 band's new-found tenderness. When they met on the stairs, and 
 he joked her about the roses in her cheeks, she smiled curiously, 
 and begged him to let her pass. But in the workroom she was 
 happy. The mechanical action of sewing allowed her to follow the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 101 
 
 train of her dreams and drew the attention of those present away 
 from her. She had tried her novels, but the most exciting now 
 failed to fix her thoughts. The page swam before her eyes, a con- 
 fusion of white and black dots, the book in a few minutes would fall 
 upon her lap, and she would relapse again into thinking of what 
 Dick would gay to her, and of the hours that still separated them. 
 On Sunday, without knowing why, she insisted on attending all the 
 services. Ralph in no way cared for this excessive devotion, and he 
 proposed to take her for a walk in the afternoon, but she preferred 
 to accompany Mrs. Ede to church. 
 
 The solemnity of the place exalted her spirits, and it loosened the 
 tension of her thoughts to raise her voice in the hymns. And in 
 walking back the old woman's gabble was pleasant to listen to ; it 
 filled her ears with a murmur of meaningless sound. But when they 
 arrived at home the peace of mind she had gained was seriously dis- 
 turbed by the discovery of Dick's portmanteau, which was found 
 lying at the foot of the stairs. Ralph explained that he had taken 
 it in, and was waiting for some one to help hina upstairs with it. 
 Never did a woman regret the time she had spent in, devotional 
 exercises more than did Kate, and even the certitude that she would 
 take him up his breakfast next morning seemed to lier but a poor 
 consolation. "And I have missed seeing him. Oh ! how stupid, 
 how stupid ! I thought he wouldn't be here till Monday," she 
 whispered to herself a thousand times as she arranged his room 
 and put fresh sheets on his bed. He had told Ralph that he 
 had a lot of business to do with the acting manager, and would 
 not return before they went up to prayers ; still Kate did not 
 lose hope, and on the off chance that he might' feel tired after 
 his journey, and come home earlier than he expected, she endea- 
 voured to prolong the conversation after supper. By turns she 
 spoke to Mrs. Ede of the sermons of the day, and to Ralph 
 of the possibilities of enlarging their shop-front. But the bid lady 
 grew restive when she was forced to hear how the actor was to 
 send them new fashions from London, as did Ralph when the 
 conversation turned on the relative merits of the morning and 
 afternoon sermon. It was the old story of the goat and the cab- 
 bage — each is uneasy in the other's company ; and even before the 
 usual time mother and son agreed that it would be better to say 
 prayers and get to bed. 
 
 Kate would have given anything to see Dick that night, and 
 she lay awake for hours listening for the sound of the well- 
 known heavy footstep. At last it came, tramp, tramp, a dull, 
 heavy noisy flapping through the dark silence of the house. She 
 trembled, fearing that he would, mistaking the door, come into 
 their room ; if he did, she felt she would die of shame. The 
 footsteps approached nearer and nearer ; her husband was snoiing 
 loudly, and, casting a glance at him, she wondered if she should 
 have time to push the bolt to. Immediately after, Dick stumbled 
 up the steps into his room, leaving her free to fall back upon her 
 
102 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 pillow ; and, hugging the thought that he was again under her roof, 
 dream of their meeting in the morning. 
 
 Kate had counted a great deal on the pleasure of this meeting, 
 and she had taken some trouble in considering what his first look 
 would be when she carried in the breakfast tray. She was, 
 however, disappointed in all her imaginings. The duty of taking 
 up the hot water to the lodgers devolved upon Mrs. Ede, it not 
 being considered proper for Kate to go into a gentleman's room ; 
 but on this occasion, Mrs. Ede being out, and Ralph in bed, as Dick 
 continued ringing, there was nothing for it but to fill a jug and carry 
 it up to him. He was asleep, or rather dozing, when she entered, 
 and evidently mistaking her for Mrs. Ede, did not open his eyes. 
 Congratulating herself, and hoping to pass away unperceived, Kate 
 glided to the washhand-stand, and put down the jug. But the clink 
 of the delf caused him to look round. 
 
 " Oh ! is that you, Kate ? " he said, brushing aside with a wave of 
 his bare arm his frizzly hair. " I didn't expect to see so pretty a 
 sight first thing in the morning. And how have you been 1 " 
 
 " I am very well, thank you, sir," Kate replied, retreating. 
 
 " Well, I don't see why you should run away like that. What 
 have I done to oflfend you ? You know," he said, lowering his voice 
 to a confidential whisper, "I didn't write to you about the poetry 
 you sent me (at least I suppose it was from you, it had the Hanley 
 post-mark ; if it wasn't, I'll bum it), because I was afraid that your 
 old mother or your husband might get hold of my letter. " 
 
 " I must go away now, sir ; your hot water is there," she said, 
 looking nervously towards the door, which was ajar. 
 
 " But tell me, wasn't it you who sent me the verses ? I have 
 them here, and I brought you a little something, I won't tell you 
 what, in return." 
 
 " I can't talk to you now,'' said Kate, casting on him one swift 
 glance of mingled admiration and love. Although somewhat inclined 
 to corpulence, he was a fine man, and looked a tower of strength as 
 he lay tossed back on the pillows, liis big arms and thick brown 
 throat bare. A flush rose to her cheeks when he said that he had 
 brought her a little something ; her wildest dreams had not reached 
 further than a hope that she was not quite forgotten. It was delici- 
 ous to know that he did not utterly despise her poetry, that he had 
 it by him. Nevertheless, it was impossible to stop talking to him 
 now, and hoping to make him understand her position, she said, 
 raising her voice : 
 
 " And "what can I get you for breakfast, sir ? Would you like an 
 omelette?" 
 
 " Oh, I sha'n't be able to wait for breakfast ; I have to be up at 
 our acting manager's by nine o'clock. What time is it now ? " 
 
 " I think it's just going the half -hour, sir." 
 
 " Oh, then, I have lots of time yet," replied Dick, settling him- 
 self in a way that relieved K^te of all apprehension that he was 
 going to spring out before her on the floor. 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 103 
 
 " Then shall 1 get you breakfast, sir ? " 
 
 " No, thanks, Isha'n't have time for that ; I shall have something 
 to eat up at Haye's. But tell me, is there anyone listening ? " he 
 said, lowering his voice again. " I want to speak to you now parti- 
 cularly, for I am afraid 1 shall be out all day." 
 
 Afraid that her husband might overhear her, Kate made a sign 
 in the negative, and whispered — " To-morrow at breakfast." 
 
 Although the thought that he had a present for her made her 
 heart beat with delight, Kate was not satisfied with this interview. 
 She had not imagined it like this. There was a vague idea of 
 something pretty, something coquettish associated in her mind 
 with- carrying in his breakfast tray (doubtless a souvenir of the 
 ribbon-bedecked chambermaids she had read of in novels), which 
 was absent in the more menial office of taking in his hot water. 
 Besides, had he not told her that he was going to be out all day? 
 
 The week he was going to remain with them had at first appeared 
 to her like a long vista of days to the end of which she could not 
 quite see. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday she had dotted over 
 with little plans ; Thursday and Friday she knew nothing of. 
 Saturday ? Well, there was just a possibility that he might not go 
 away without kissing her. For this thought she felt irritated 
 with herself, but she could not rid herself of it ; a bitter sense 
 of voluptuousness burnt the while at the bottom of her heart, 
 and in a sort of deaf anger she railed against aU things. Sunday 
 she had missed him, and Monday had ended as abruptly as a 
 barren nut. Even the magic words that he had brought her a 
 present could not compensate for the vague sense of disappoint- 
 ment, and Miss Header's interminable questions nearly drove her 
 mad, and she already despaired of being able to go to the theatre. 
 Nothing seemed to be going right. It wasn't this she had ex- 
 pected, but something totally diflerent. Even the little gold ear- 
 rings which Dick took out of a velvet case and wanted to put into 
 her ears only added a bitterer drop to her cup. All she could do 
 was to hide them away where no one could find them. It tor- 
 tured her to have to teU him that she could not wear them, 
 and the kiss that he would ask for, and she could not refuse, 
 seemed only a mockery. He was going away on Sunday, and this 
 time she did not know when he woula return. In addition to all 
 these bitter disappointments, she found herself obliged to go a long 
 walk on Tuesday aftem6on to see a lady who had written to her 
 about a dress. She did not get home until after six, and then it 
 was only to learn that Mr. Lennox had been about the house all 
 day, idling, talking to Ralph in the shop — that they had gone oflF to 
 the theatre together. Mrs. Ede was more than indignant, and 
 when the little man was brought home at night, speaking painfully 
 in little short gasps, she declared that it was a judgment upon him. 
 Next day he was unable to leave his room. When Dick was told 
 what had happened he manifested much concern, and insisted on 
 seeing the patient. Indeed, the sympathy he showed was sc 
 marked that Kate at first was tempted to doubt its sincerity. But 
 
lO-t A MUMMBK'S WIFE. 
 
 she was wrong. Dick was truly sorry for poor Ralph, and he sat a 
 long time with him, thinking what could be done to relieve liini. 
 He laid all the blame at his own door. He ought never to have 
 kept a person liable to such a disease out so late at night. There 
 was a particular chair in which Ralph always sat when he was 
 .affected with his asthma. It had a rail on which he could place his 
 feet, and thus lift one knee almost on to a level with his chest ; and 
 in this position, his head on his hand, he would remain for hours 
 groaning and wheezing. Dick watched him with an expression 
 of the most genuine sorrow on his big face. So clear was it that he 
 regretted what he had done that for a moment even Mrs. Ede's 
 heart, was softened towards him. But the thaw was only 
 momentary ; she froze again into stone when he remarked that it 
 was a pity that Mr. Ede was ill, for they were going to play 
 Madame Angot on Thursday night, and he wanted them all to 
 come. Ralph's vanity was immensely flattered, and resolved not to 
 be behind-hand in civility, he declared between his gasps that no 
 one should be disappointed on his account — that he would feel 
 liighly complimented by Mr. Lennox's taking Mrs. Ede to the 
 theatre. Kate blushed violently, but Dick seemed in no way put 
 out, and on the spot it was arranged that Kate and Miss Hender 
 should go together on Thursday night to see Madame Angot. 
 
 Suppressing her emotion as well as she could, Kate took the first 
 opportunity of getting out of the room and running downstairs to 
 tell Miss Hender of the good news. 
 
 She felt that she must die if any accident happened to rob her 
 of this little pleasure. She had endured enough in the way of 
 restraint, and could endure no more. But nothing would occur. 
 All that was required of her was to assume an air of indifiereiice, 
 and not betray herself to Mrs. Ede, whom she suspected of 
 watching her. But her excitement rendered her nervous, and 
 Kate found the calm exterior she was so desirous of imposing on 
 herself difficult to maintain. The uncertainty of her husband's 
 temper terrified her. It was liable at any moment to change, 
 and on the night in question he might order her not to leave 
 the house. If so, she asked herself if she would have tiie courage 
 to disobey him ? The answer slipped from her : it was impossible 
 for her to fix her attention on' anything ; and although she had 
 a press of work on her hands, she availed herself of every occa- 
 sion to escape to the kitchen, where she might talk to Lizzie and 
 Annie about the play, and explain to them the meaning of the 
 poster, which she now understood thoroughly. Their childish 
 looks and questions soothed the emotions that were burning within 
 her. 
 
 Thursday morning especially seemed interminable, but at last 
 the long-watched clock on the staircase struck the wished-for hour, 
 and still settling their bonnet-strings, Kate and Miss Hender 
 strolled in the direction of the theatre. The evening was dry and 
 clear, and beyond Stoke, ovti iin embrasure of the hills the sun 
 
A MUMMEE'S WIFE- 105 
 
 was setting in a red and yellow mist. The streets were full of 
 people ; and where Piccadilly opens into the market-place, groups 
 and couples of factory girls were eagerly talking, some stretching 
 forward in a pose that showed a lost profile ; others, graver of face, 
 walking straight as reeds, with their hands on their right hips, the 
 palms ilat, and the fing'ers half encircling the narrow waists. 
 
 " How deuced glad you must be to get out," said Miss Hender. 
 " To be cooped up in the way you are ! I couldn't stand it." 
 
 " Well, you see, I can enjoy myself all the more when I do get 
 out." 
 ' Kate would have liked to answer more tartly, but, on seeond 
 thoughts, she decided it was not worth while. It bored her 
 to be reminded of the hum-drum life she led, and to be told per- 
 petually that it was extraordinary that she had been to the theatre 
 only twice in her life. Of this fact she now felt deeply ashamed, 
 particularly when it was mentioned in Dick's presence ; and for 
 some time back she had been secretly determining to reform her 
 life in the way of its pleasures. 
 
 "We're too soon," said Miss Hender, breaking in jauntily on 
 Kate's reflections ; " the doors aren't open yet." 
 
 " I can see that." 
 
 " But what are you so cross about ? " asked Miss Hender, who was 
 not aware of what was passing in her mistress's mind. 
 
 " I'm cross about nothing at all. But how long shall we have to 
 wait ? Mr. Lennox said he'd meet us here, didn't he ? " 
 
 " Oh, he can't be long now, for here comes Wentworth with the 
 keys to open the doors. " 
 
 The street they were in was wide. At the far end it branched to 
 the right and left rectangularly. Opposite were large flat walls, red 
 in colour, and roofed like a bam, and before one black doorway some 
 fifty or sixty people had collected. The manager pushed his way 
 through the crowd, and soon after, like a snake into a hole, the line 
 began to disappear. Miss Hender explained that this was the way 
 to the pit, and that the stage entrance was what Kate took for a 
 cellar. A young man with a big nose, whom she recognised as Mr. 
 Montgomery, stared at them as he passed ; then came two ladies — 
 Miss Leslie and Miss Beaumont. Dick did not appear for some time 
 after, but at last the big hat was seen coming along. Although, as 
 usual, in a great hurry, he was apparently much pleased to see them, 
 and he offered Kate his arm and conducted her across the street into 
 the theatre. 
 
 " You're a bit early, you know. The curtain doesn't go up for 
 half-an-hour yet," he said, as they ascended a high flight of steps, at 
 tiie top of which sat a woman with tickets in her hand. 
 
 "We were afraid of being too late." 
 
 " It was very good of you to come. I hope you' will have a plea- 
 sant evening ; it would be quite a treat to act when you were in the 
 house. " 
 
 " But aren't you going to act, wet" 
 
106 A MTTMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 " You mustn't call me sir ; everybody calls me Dick ; and I don't 
 know anyone who has a better right to do so than you." 
 
 " But aren't you going to act, Di ? I can't say it." 
 
 "I don't call it acting. I come on in the first act. I just 
 do that to save the salary, for, you know, I have an interest in 
 the tour." 
 
 Kate had no idea as to what was meant by having "an interest 
 in the tour, '" and fearing to waste her present happiness in questions, 
 she did not ask. Her attention was concentrated on the big man by 
 her side, and her observation of all things about her was as if dif- 
 fused, and gave her no exact idea of their extent or character. She 
 scarcely knew she was in a theatre, and had as yet perceived neither 
 the star-light nor the drop-curtain. Dick spoke to her of herself, of 
 himself ; but he said nothing that recalled any of the realities of her 
 life, and when he suddenly lifted his hand from hers and whispered, 
 " Here comes Miss Hender. We mustn't appear too intimate before 
 her," she experienced the sensation of one awaking out of a most 
 delicious dream. 
 
 Immediately after Miss Hender had cast a last retort at the two 
 men with whom she was chaffing, and descending through the chairs, 
 Said — 
 
 " Mr. Lennox, you are wanted behind." 
 
 Promising to see them again when the act was over, Dick hastened 
 away, and Miss Hender, after settling herself in her chair, looked at 
 Kate in a way which said as distinctly as words, " Well, my young 
 woman, you do go it when you're out on the loose." But she re- 
 frained from putting her thoughts into words, possibly because she 
 feared to turn her mistress from what she considered, too obviously 
 indeed, to be the right path. 
 
 They were sitting in the middle division of a gallery divided into 
 three parts. The brown twilight was unbroken except by the yel- 
 low-painted backs of the chairs ; and a series of mirrors, enframed 
 in black wood, decorated the walls, and reflected monotonously 
 different small comers of the house. Only a dozen or fifteen 
 people had as yet come in, and they moved about like melancholy 
 shades ; or, when sitting still, seemed like ink-spots on a dark back- 
 ground. 
 
 Kate and Miss Hender gazed into the night of the pit, which ex- 
 tended to the line of the orchestra. Through this huge space an 
 agitated roU progressed in one direction, and a darkness similar to 
 that seen at sea slumbered over the heads of the people. These 
 could not readily be distinguished, but a bald head or a bunch of 
 yellow flowers in a woman's bonnet appeared for an instant like the 
 crest of a wave. Overhead the darkness was still more sombre • a 
 dozen pale jets of a miserable iron gas-fixing hanging out of the 
 tenebrous shadows of the roof struggled in the middle gloom, leaving 
 the outlines of the muses that decorated the cone of this warehouse- 
 looking theatre as undefinable as the silhouettes of the shopkeepers 
 in the pit. But if there was not sufficient light whereby to examine 
 
A MUMMBK'S WIFE. 107 
 
 the figures on the roof, tlie blue of the drop-curtain triumphed over 
 every shadow. This picture was made up of a lake bluer than any- 
 thing ever seen, except the sky above it ; the boats were in rich 
 brown, and the sailors seemed to wear live coals of fire in lieu of 
 caps on their heads. 
 
 Kate had not been to the theatre since the first year of her mar- 
 riage. Of the story of the play she had seen performed she preserved 
 still a vague remembrance, although all its surroundings and adjuncts 
 were completely forgotten. Since then a rapid glance at the red 
 house as she passed up Queen Street, and an occasional dispute be- 
 tween her mother-in-law and husband regarding the wickedness he 
 had been guilty of, in having taken his wife to such a place, was all 
 she had to keep her memory fresh on the subject. But her interest 
 was now of a different nature. She had come with the man who, 
 had she examined her conscience for a moment, she would have 
 seen already possessed her utterly. She had come to see him act 
 — to see him dressed in fine clothes, to hear hun singing songs, 
 saying beautiful things ; she didn't know what,' but something 
 outside, beyond the limits of her .experience. 
 
 To act ! Who shall explain the miracle ! The very word tells us 
 it is an untruth, and yet how quickly do we forget the prosaic 
 individuality of the actor in the poetry and the silken hose of 
 the Prince of Denmark ! The intellect, at least all the sense of 
 logic, appears for the time to be in total abeyance. The mad are 
 not more certain of the actuality of their delusions. And it would 
 seem that it is not the truth nor the beauty of what is passing 
 before our eyes that so entirely fevers and passions us. The 
 baldest melodrama often wins the most tears ; the most improbable 
 farce often convulses us with the most violent laughter ; and if 
 we are thus deceived, what then must have been the extent and 
 depth of the deception created in Kate's mind ? She was a simple 
 woman of the people, whose febrile and vacillating imagination 
 had on one side been crushed and repressed by the circumscribing 
 and monotonous routine of her humble life, and on the other 
 exalted by the fervour of a faith which, although it had not been 
 able to mould her character, had nevertheless endowed it with a 
 certain idealism of thought ; and when to these influences are 
 added the demoralising efiects of hundreds of sentimental and 
 romantic stories, read in her early youth, it will be understood 
 with what abandonment of the senses, with what alienation of the 
 brain, Kate threw herseK into the enjoyment of this evening ; 
 with what frenzy she waited for Dick, who was going that night 
 to act for her. 
 
 The musicians had now taken their places in the orchestra ; the 
 discord attendant on the tuning of the instruments commenced, 
 and across the dark pit the profiles of fiddlers were seen curiously 
 bent forward, their features etched darkly against the round spots 
 of light which the reading-lamps threw on the music-paper. 
 
 "They are going to begin now," said Miss Hender. 
 
108 A MUMMER'S WIFE, 
 
 " Are they ! " replied Kate eagerly. 
 
 " Of course ; here's Montgomery." 
 
 And from under the stage the thin young man came up with a 
 swagger, pushing his glasses higher on his beak-like nose. Then 
 baking his place on the high stool, he squared his shoulders, looked 
 iround, waved his stick, and the sweet capricious music flowed on 
 in all its delightful suggestiveness of folly and light love._ 
 
 It was now three months since the first idea of going to the 
 theatre had been suggested to Kate, and in the hours of waiting 
 the desire to possess had been laboriously, secretly at work in her 
 heart, and had constructed in her imagination a world of phantas- 
 mal splendour, of superhuman pleasure, the vague concealing veils 
 of which were now being lifted as the curtain was going up on the 
 opera bouflfe of Madame Angot. 
 
 The sparkling marriage chorus, with tlae fanciful peasants and 
 the still more fanciful bridegroom in silk, the bright appearance of 
 Clairette at the window, and the sympathy awakened by her love 
 for the devil-may-care revolutionary poet, dazzled and seduced Kate 
 like a sensual dream, and in all she saw and felt there was a mingled 
 sense of nearness and remoteness, a divine concentration, and an 
 absence of her own proper individuality. Never had she heard 
 such music. How suave it was compared with the.austere and regular 
 rhythm of the hymns she sang in church ! The gay tripping 
 measure of the market-woman's song filled her with visions and 
 laughter, bright as the sunlight on faces of young girls dancing 
 under cherry-trees. There was an accent of insincerity in the sere- 
 nade, which troubled her as a sudden cloud might the dreams of 
 the most indolent of lazzaroni, but the beseeching passion of the 
 duet revealed to her sympathies for parting lovers that even, her 
 favourite poetry had been impotent to do. The melting chords 
 were as molten lead poured into her heart, and all her musical sen- 
 sibilities rushed to her head like wine ; it was only by a violent 
 effort, full of acute pain, that she saved herself from raising her 
 voice with those of the singers, and dreading a giddiness that 
 might precipitate her into the pit, she remained staring blindly at 
 the stage. 
 
 Her happiness would have been complete, if such violent emotions 
 can be called happiness, had it not been for Miss Hender. This 
 young person, actuated probably by a desire of displaying her 
 knowledge, could not be prevented from talking. As each actor or 
 actress entered she explained their position in the company, and all 
 she knew of their habits in private life. Mr. Mortimer's dispute 
 the other night with Bill, the scene-shifter, necessitated quite a 
 little tirade against drunkenness, and as it was necessary to tell of 
 what had been said in the ladies' dressing-room, a description of 
 Miss Beaumont's underclothing was introduced ; it was very elegant, 
 silk stockings and lace-trimmed chemises ; whereas Miss Leslie's 
 was declared to be much plainer. Once or twice Miss Hender was 
 asked to keep quiet, but Kate did not much mind. The thunder of 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. lO'.l 
 
 applause which rose from a pit tilled with noisy factory boys and 
 girls was accepted in good faith, and it floated through her mind, 
 elevating and exciting her emotions as the roar of the breakers on 
 the shore does the dreams of a dreamer awaiting the rising of a 
 star. But the star she was expecting had not yet appeared. She 
 had soei^ Miss Leslie, Miss Beaumont, Joe Mortimer, and Frank 
 Bret, and numberless other people, who had appeared in all sorts 
 of dresses and had sung all kinds of enchanting songs, but Dick was 
 nowhere to be found. She had searched vainly for him in the maze 
 of colour that was being flashed before her eyes. Would he appear 
 as a king, a monk, a shepherd, or would he wear a cocked-hat 1 
 She did not know, and was too bewildered to think. She had a 
 dim notion that he would do something wonderful, set everything 
 to rights — that they would all bow down before him when he 
 entered, and she watched every motion of the crowd, expecting it 
 every moment to make way for him. But he did not appear, and 
 at last they all went away singing. Her heart sank within her, but 
 just when she had begun to lose hope, two men rushed across the 
 stage, and commenced to spy about and make plans. At first 
 Kate did not recognise her lover, so completely was he disguised, 
 but soon the dreadful truth commenced to dawn on her. Oh, 
 misery ! Oh, horror ! How could this be ? And she closed her 
 eyes to shut out her dreadful disappointment. Why had he done 
 this thing ? She had expected a king, and had found a policeman. 
 
 "There he is, there he is!" whispered Miss Hender. "Don't 
 you see, 'tis he who does the policeman ? A French policeman, 
 you know ; he drags the bride away at the end of the act." 
 
 Poor Kate felt very unhappy indeed. Her fanciful house of 
 cards had fallen down and crushed her under the ruins. She felt 
 she could no longer take an interest in anything. The rest of the 
 act was torture to her. What pleasure could it be to her to see her 
 lover, looking hideous, drag a bride away from her intended ? Had 
 it not been for shame of Miss Hender, she thought, she would have 
 left the theatre : the fall of the curtain closing the ugly vision came 
 as a welcome relief : and when Dick, looking no worse for his 
 impersonation of the foreign policeman, sat down by her side her 
 embarrassment was increased- 
 
 " Well, how did you like the piece, dear 2 " 
 
 "Ohl very much," returned Kate plaintively, fearing she was 
 being laughed at. . , . jr ■ 
 
 " I'm afraid you didn't," replied Dick, laymg his hand aiiection- 
 ately on hers, a movement which caused Miss Hender to retire pre- 
 cipitately. Kate begged of her to stay, but she said she lud to 
 speak to the manager on some business wliich she had until now 
 
 forgotten. . , „. , .^ , .^ i-i 
 
 "Why do you want her to stay?" said Dick, "dont you like 
 being alone with me 2 " Kate answered him with a look, wondeimg 
 all the while what could have induced him to play the part of that 
 ugly policeman. ' ' I'm sure you didn't like the. piece," he continued, 
 
no A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 ' ' and yet I must say from behind it seemed to go very well ; but 
 then there are so many things you miss from the wings." 
 
 Kate understood nothing of what he said, but seeing that he was 
 terribly sincere, and fearing to pain him, she hastened to give the 
 piece her unqualified approbation. 
 
 " I assure you 1 couldn't have liked anything more, the music is 
 80 pretty." 
 
 " And how did you think I looked ? It is only a small part, you 
 know, but at the same time it requires to be played. If there isn't 
 3ome go put into it the finale all goes to pot." 
 
 Now Kate felt sure he was quizzing her, and at length she said, 
 the desire to speak her mind triumphing over her shyness, " But 
 fthy did you make yourself look like that ? It wasn't a nice part, 
 was it ? " 
 
 " It is only a trumpery bit of a thing, but it is better for me to 
 bake it than have another salary on the list. In the next act, you 
 know, I come oh as the captain of the guard." 
 
 " And will that be nice ? " Kate asked, her face flushing at the 
 idea of seeing her lover in a red coat. 
 
 " Oh, yes, it looks well enough, but it isn't an acting part. I 
 im only on for a few minutes. 1 am only supposed to come on in 
 search of the conspirators. I take a turn or two of the waltz with 
 Miss Beaumont, who plays Lapige, and it is all over. Have you 
 ever heard the waltz ? " Kate never had ; so drawing her close to 
 dim, he sang in her ear the soft flowing melody. In her nervous- 
 ness she passionately squeezed his hand, and this encouraged him to 
 say, " How I wish it were you that I had to 4anoe with ! how nice 
 it would be to hold you in my arms ! Would you like to be in my 
 irms? " 
 
 Kate looked at him appealingly ; but nothing more was said, and 
 ioon after Dick remembered he had to get the stage ready for the 
 second act. As he hurried away, Miss Hender appeared. She had 
 been round to the " pub " to have a drink with Bill, and had been 
 aehind talking to her ladies, who were all, as she said, "full of 
 Dick's new mash." 
 
 " They have seen you, and are as jealous as a lot of cats." 
 
 " It is very wicked of them to say there's anything between Mr. 
 Lennox and me," replied Kate, angrily. " I suppose they think 
 3verybody is like themselves — a lot of actresses." 
 
 Miss Hender made no answer, but she turned up her nose at 
 what she considered to be d insulting to the profession. 
 
 However, in a few minutes, when her indignation evaporated, 
 she called Kate's attention to what a splendid house it was. 
 
 " I can tell you what, with a shilling pit, a sixpenny gaUery, and 
 ;he centre and side circles pretty well full, it soon runs up. Thei-e 
 must be nigh on seventy pounds in ; and that for Thursday night ! " 
 
 They were now well on in the second act. The brilliancy of the 
 ' Choeur des MerveUleuses," the pleading pity of " She is such a 
 simple little thing," the quaint droUeiy of the conspirators, had al- 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. Ill 
 
 most made Kate forget the aspersions cast on her character. The 
 light music foamed in her head like champagne,' and in a whirling 
 sense of intoxication a vision of Dick in a red coat passed atid re- 
 passed before her. But for this she had to wait a long time. How- 
 ever, at last the sounds o| trumpets were heard, and tliose on the 
 stage cried that the soldiers were coming. Kate's heart throbbed, 
 a mist swam before her eyes, and immediately after came a sense of 
 bright calm ; for, in all the splendour of uniform, Dick, big and 
 stately, entered at the head of a regiment of girls in red tights. 
 The close-fitting jacket had reduced his size, the top-boots gave a 
 dignity to his legs. He was doubtless a fine man ; to Kate he was 
 more than divine. Then the waltz began, the sweet undulating 
 tune he had sung in her ears, and casting a glance of explanation 
 in the directifin of the gallery, he put his arm rqund Miss Beau- 
 mont's waist. The action caused Kate a heart-pa.ng, but the strange- 
 ness of the scene she was witnessing distracted her thoughts. For 
 immediately the other actors and actresses in their startling dresses 
 selected partners, aiid the stage seemed transformed into a wonder- 
 ful garden of colour swinging to the music of a fountain, which, 
 under the inspiration of the moonlight, broke from its monotonous 
 chant into rhythmical variations. "Dick, like a great tulip in his red 
 uniform, tui'ned in the middle, and Miss Beaumont in her long yel- 
 low dress sprawled upon him. Each time she passed in front, 
 through her dress, which was open on both sides, her thick pink 
 legs were seen to the knees, which Kate for disgust strove not to 
 see. Miss Leslie in her bride's dress bloomed a lily white, as she 
 danced with a man whose red calves and thighs seemed prolonged 
 into his very chest. La Bivodifere cast despairing glances at Lange, 
 poor Pomponet strove to get to his bride, and all the blonde wigs 
 and black collars of the conspirators were mixed amid the strange 
 poke boimets of the ladies, and the long swallow-taUed coats, reach- 
 ing almost to the ground, flapped in and out of the legs of the fe- 
 male soldiers. Kate smiled feebly and drank in the music of the 
 waltz. It was played over again ; like a caged canary's song it 
 haunted Clairette's orange-blossoms, like the voluptuous thrill of a 
 nightingale singing in a rose-garden it flowed about Lange's heavy 
 draperies and glistening bosom, like the varied chant of the mocking 
 bird it came from under Ange Pitou's cocked-hat. It was sung 
 separately and in unison, and it penetrated, winding and unwinding 
 itself, into the deepest recesses of Kate's mind. It seduced like a 
 deep slow perfume ; it caressed with the long undulations of a 
 beautiful snake and the mystery of a graceful cat. It went and it 
 came, stretching forth invisible hands, as might sirens leaning out 
 of blue ocean waters ; it whispered, as they might, of fair pleasure 
 places where scent, and music, and love are one, where lovers never 
 grow weary, and where kisses endure for etetr. She was conscious 
 of deep self-contentment, of dreamy idleness, of sad languor, and 
 the charm to which she abandoned herself resembled the enerva- 
 tions of a beautiful climate, the floating softness of a church, and 
 
112 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 she yearned for her lover and the fanciful life of which he was the 
 centre, as one might for some ideal fatherland. On the sweet cur- 
 rent of the music she was carried far away, far beyond the great hills 
 into a land of sleep, drekm, and haze, and a wonderful tenderness 
 swam within her as loose and as dim as the green sea depths that a 
 wave never stirs. She struggled, but it was only as one in a dream 
 strives to lift himself out of the power that holds ; and when the 
 conductor waved his stick for the last time, and the curtain came 
 down amid deafening applause, irritated and enervated, she shrank 
 from Miss Hender, as if anxious not to be wholly awakened. 
 
 The third act passed she scarcely knew how. She was over- 
 borne and over-tempted ; all her blood seemed to be in her head 
 and heart, and, from time to time, she was shaken with quick 
 shudderings. 
 
 When Dick came to see her she scarcely understood what he said 
 to her, and it annoyed her not to be able to answer him. Wlien 
 the word love was pronounced she smiled, but' her smile was one of 
 pain, and she could not rouse herself from a sort of sad ecstasy in 
 which she was plunged. Glad as the tunes might be, there was to 
 her a savour of cynicism in all the merriment. A fathomless grief 
 seemed to be vaguely reflected therein, and occasionally it startled 
 her happiness. 
 
 But when, like an irritating dream, the music came to an 
 end, she found herself walking in the street with Dick. It 
 was a lovely night. A large gold moon swam through the clear 
 September sky, and the streets were filled with long spaces of light 
 and shadow. 
 
 " How nice it is to be here out of that hot, stuflFjr theatre,'' said 
 Dick, putting his arm round her. 
 
 " Oh, do you think so ? I could listen to that music for ever." 
 
 " It is pretty, isn't it ? I'm so glad you liked it. I told you the 
 (valtz was lovely." 
 
 " Lovely ! I should think so. I shall never forget it." 
 
 And losing her habitual shyness in her enthusiasm, she sang the 
 first bars with her face raised towards her lover's ; then gaining 
 courage from his look of astonishment and pleasure, she gave all 
 the modulations with her full voice. 
 
 " By Jove, you have a deuced nice soprano, and a devilis^ good 
 ear too. 'Pon my soul, you sing that waltz as well as Beaumont." 
 
 " Oh, Dick, you mustn't laugh at me." 
 
 " I swear I'm not laughing. Sing it again, nobody's listening." 
 
 They were standing in the shade of a large warehouse, whose 
 line of slates made a crescent of the full moon. The silence of the 
 street was clear as silver, and amid the reverberating yards and 
 brickways the voice sounded as penetrating and direct as a flute. 
 The exquisite accuracy of Kate's ear enabled her to give each note 
 its just value. Dick was astonished, and he said when she hud fin- 
 ished — 
 
 '" I really don't want to flatter you, but with a little teaching you 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. , US 
 
 would sing far better than Beaumont. Your ear is perfect ; ib is 
 the production of the voice that wants looking to. 'Tis, of course, 
 a bit throaty." 
 
 Kate did not answer, and suffocated with secret joy, she walked 
 by Dick's sid,e. She was conscious of having interested him in her- 
 self as she had not done before. Now he treated her as an equal. He 
 talked to her of the different tunes, listened to what she had to say, 
 and encouraged her to try to recall the rest of the music. At every 
 twenty yards he would stop to beg of her to repeat, and he showed 
 her how to emphasise the air of certain songs. In particular he 
 was anxious that she should learn the legend of Madame Angot. 
 And so deeply interested were they, that, indifferent to time or 
 place, they raised their voices, and went through the action of the 
 hands on the hips and the shakes of the head that the song required. 
 
 " Now," said Dick, " I'll sing the symphony, and we'll go through 
 it with all the effects — one, two, three, four, ta ra ta ta ta ta ta." 
 
 But as Kate attacked the first bar it was taken up by three or 
 four male voices, the owners of which, judging by the sound, could 
 not be more than forty or fifty yards away. 
 
 "Here's Montgomery, Joe Mortimer, and all that lot. I wouldn't 
 for anything be caught here with you." 
 
 " By going up this passage we can get home in two minutes." 
 
 " Can we 1 Well, let's cut ; but no, they are too close on us. 
 Do you go, dear ; I'U remain and tell them it was a lady singing 
 out of that window. Here, take my latchkey. Off you go." 
 
 Without another word Kate fled down thd alley, and Dick was 
 left to explain whatever he pleased concerning the mythical lady 
 whom he declared he had been serenading. 
 
 When Kate arrived home that night she lay awake for hours, 
 restlessly tossing, her brain whirling with tunes and parts of tunes. 
 The conspirators' chorus, the waltz song, the legend, and a dozen 
 disconnected fragments of the opera all sang together in her ears, 
 and imder strange conditions she continued to take singing lessons 
 from Dick. The profound and intimate happiness caused by the 
 certain knowledge that he loved her did not leave her, and when 
 next morning she met Miss Hender she could witlihold little of her 
 secret. The desire to speak of Dick burnt her like a ]thirst, and 
 the whole day the women talked of love and the delights thereof. 
 During the pauses of the conversation, and when she was not 
 speaking, she communed greedily with herself. She was dreamily 
 satisfied, and it was not until Miss Hender left her to go to the 
 theatre, that is to say to go to Dick, that she commenced to realise, 
 in all its direct brutality, the fact that on the morrow she would 
 have to bid good-bye to her lover. In the silence of the front 
 kitchen there was nothing to distract Kate's thoughts. Her husband 
 wheezed on the sofa, her mother-in-law read the Bible, sitting bolt 
 upright in the armchair, and the shaded lamp covered the table 
 with light. A rage that seemed every moment to be getting the 
 upper hand of her burnt fiercely within her, and fearing she might 
 
114 A MUMMKR'S WIFE. 
 
 be provoked into slirieks or some violent manifestation of tempei 
 she went to bed as early as she could. But there her torments be- 
 came still more intolerable. All sorts of ideas and hallucinations, 
 magnified and distorted, but rendered astonisliingly clear by the 
 effects of insomnia, filled her brain. She could re-see the murders 
 she had read of in her novels. Herimagination supplied detaOsthe 
 author had not dreamed of. The elopements, with all their para- 
 phernalia of moonlight and roses, came back to her as landscapes 
 do to a still lake. But these were the sweet moments of relief, 
 divine cessations of pain, from which she was cruelly awakened by 
 the certitude that in a few hours they would be separated for ever. 
 An extreme nervousness took possession of her. and she trembled 
 at her own thoughts. One imperative and convincing desire had 
 swollen her heart until she seemed to herself to be all heart. 
 Other joys appeared vain, weak, and unmeaning. By times, when 
 she remembered the pious, religious life she had been brought up 
 in, she started, unable to understand her present attitude of mind, 
 and then when she looked into her own soul she saw there a wicked, 
 violent woman whom she did not know, just as a woman before a 
 glass after a feverish night might fail to recognise her own changed 
 face. But notwithstanding this excitement and rage, she never 
 attempted to come to a conclusion-r-to mark out for herself a dis- 
 tinct line of conduct. She merely hopelessly and helplessly aban- 
 doned herself to her suffering, and often in positive frenzy she 
 buried her head in the pillows in the hopes of shutting out the 
 sound of her husband's snores. 
 
 At last she felt him moving like one about to awake, and a 
 moment afterwards heard him say, " There's Mr. Lennox at the 
 door ; he can't get in ; he's kicking up an awful row. Do go down 
 and open for him." 
 
 " Why don't you go yourself ? " she answered, starting up into a 
 sitting position. 
 
 " How am I to go ? Tou don't want me to catch my death at 
 that door ? " Ralph replied angrily. 
 
 Kate did not answer, but quickly tying a petticoat about her, and 
 wrapping herself in hev dressing-gown, she went downstairs. It 
 was quite dark, and she had to feel her way along. At last, how- 
 ever, she found and pulled back the latch, but when the white 
 gleam of moonlight entered she retreated timidly behind the door. 
 
 " I am so sorry," said Dick, trying to see who was the concealed 
 figure, "but I forgot my latchkey.'" 
 
 " It does not matter," said Kate. 
 
 " Oh, it is you, dear. I have been trying to get home all day 
 to see you, but couldn't. Why didn't you come down to the 
 theatre?" 
 
 " You know that I can't do as I like.'' 
 
 " Well, never mind ; don't be cross ; give me a kiss." 
 
 Kate shrunk back, but Dick took her in his arms. " You were 
 in bed, then ? " he said, chuckling. 
 
A MUMMEK'S WlVK U£ 
 
 " Yes, but you must let me go." 
 
 " T should like never to let you go again." 
 
 "But you are leaving to-morrow." 
 
 " Not unless you wish me to, dear." 
 
 Kate did not stop to consider the impossibility of his fulfilling 
 his promise, and, her heart beating, she went upstairs. On the 
 first landing he stopped her, and laying his hand on her arm, said, 
 " And would you really be very glad if I were to stay with you 3 " 
 
 " Oh, you know I would, Diok." 
 
 They could not see each other. After a long silence she said, 
 " We must not stop talking here. Mrs. Ede sleeps, you know, 
 in the , room at the back of the workroom, and she might hear 
 us." 
 
 " Then come into the sitting-room,'' said Dick, taking her hands 
 and drawing her towards him. 
 
 "Oh, I cannot." 
 
 " I love you better than any one in the world." 
 
 " No, no ; why should you love me ? " 
 
 Although she could not see his face she felt his breath on her 
 neck. Strong arms were wound about her, she was carried for- 
 ward, and the door was shut behind her. 
 
 Only the faintest gleam of starlight touched the wall next the 
 window ; the darkness slept profoundly on landing and staircase, 
 and when the silence was again broken, a voice was heard saying, 
 " Oh, you shouldn't have done this ! What shall I tell my husband 
 if he asks me where I've been ? " 
 
 " Say you've been talking to me about my bill, dear. I'll see 
 you in the morning." 
 
U6 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Is this the stage entrajioe ? " 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. During the performance the real stage-door is 
 used as a pit entrance, and we pass under the stage." 
 
 This explanation was given when a swaggering attitude had been 
 assumed, and a knowing wink, the countersign for "Now I'm 
 going to do something for your amusement," had been bestowed 
 on his pals. The speaker was a rough man with a beard and a fez 
 cap. He was the prominent figure of a group loitering before a 
 square hole with an earthward descent, cut in the wall of the 
 Hanley theatre. 
 
 Kate was, however, too occupied with her own thoughts to 
 notice that she was being laughpd at, and shb said instantly, " I 
 want to see Mr. Lennox ; will you tell him I'm here ? " 
 
 " Mr. Lennox is on the stage ; unless yer on in the piece I don't 
 see 'ow it's to be done." 
 
 At tliis rebuff Kate cast a circular look, full of embarrassment, 
 on the grinning faces, but at that moment a rough-looking fellow, 
 of the same class as the speaker, ascended from the cellar-like 
 opening, and after nudging his "pal," touched his cap, and said 
 with the politeness of one who had been 'tipped, " This way, marm. 
 Mr. Lennox is on the stage, but if you'll wait a minute I'll tell 'im 
 yer 'ere." 
 
 At such evident signs of managerial patronage, deferentially 
 the group made way for Kate to pass down the rough, boarded 
 way. 
 
 " Take care, marm, or yer'U slip ; very arkerd place to get 
 down, with all 'em baskets in the way. This company do travel 
 with a deal of luggage. That's Mr. Lennox's, the one 'as yer 
 'and is on." 
 
 "Oh, indeed," said Kate, stopping on her way to read Mr. 
 Lennox's name on the basket. 
 
 " We piles 'em 'gainst that 'ere door so as to 'ave em 'andy for 
 sending down to the station ter-morrow morning. But if you will 
 remain here a moment, marm, I'll run up on the stage and see if 
 I can see 'im." 
 
 The mention made by the scene-shifter of the approaching 
 removal of Dick's basket struck Kate with a chiU of despair. She 
 had scarcely spoken to him since last night. He had been obliged 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 117 
 
 to go out in the morning before breakfast ; and though he had 
 tned hard to meet her during the course of the day, fate seemed to 
 be against them. On one occasion Mrs. Ede cduld not be got rid 
 of ; on another it had so happened that she had just gone round 
 the comer. It was terrible, Kate thought, that such things should 
 happen ) and towards evening her brain took fire, and she resolved 
 at all costs to see him ; and without even troubling to invent an 
 excuse to account for her absence she had rushed off to the 
 theatre. 
 
 Overhead was heard the multitudinous sound of trampling feet ; 
 on the right the noise of fiddles and comets, followed by the high 
 whistling of a clarionet, pierced through the open boarding. She 
 was in a large, low-roofed storeroom with an earthen floor. The 
 wooden ceiling was supported by an endless number of upright 
 posts, which gave the place the appearance of a ship. At the 
 further end iJiere were two stone staircases leading to opposite 
 sides of the stage. In fi'ont of her were a drum and a barrel, and 
 the semi-darkness at the back was speckled over with the sparkling 
 of the gilt tinsel-stuff used in pantomimes ; a pair of lattice- 
 windows, a bundle of rapiers, a cradle, and a breastplate, formed a 
 group in the centre — a broken trombone lay useless at her feet. 
 The soft, flaccid odour of size which the scenery exhaled was sug- 
 gestive of Ralph's room ; and spasmodically she considered the 
 things around her. She wondered if the swords were real, what 
 different uses the tinsel-paper might be put to, until, like one rent 
 by a fierce neuralgic pain, she would awake from her dream, asking 
 herself bitterly why he did not come down to see her. Then, in 
 the pause that followed the question, she was startled by a pro- 
 longed shout from the chorus. The orchestra seemed to be going 
 mad, the drum was thumped, the cymbals were clashed, and back 
 and forward rushed the noisy feet, first one way, then the other ; — 
 a soprano voice was heard for a moment clear and distinct, and 
 then was drowned unmediately after in a general scream. What 
 could it mean ? Had the place taken fire ? Kate asked herself 
 wildly. 
 
 " The finale of the act 'as begun, marm ; Mr. Lennox wUl be hofi 
 the stage directly." 
 
 " Has nothing happened, then ? is the — ? " 
 
 The scene-shifter's look of astonishment showed Kate that she 
 was mistaken ; and then Bill, for it was he, tried to make himself 
 agreeable by speaking of Miss Hender. But before they had time 
 to exchange many words, the trampling and singing overhead 
 suddenly ceased, and the muffled sound of clapping and applause 
 was heard in the distance. 
 
 " There's the act," said Bill ; " he'll be down now immediately ; 
 he'll take no call for the perliceman." 
 
 It seemed to Kate that the mention of the policeman must liave 
 been meant as a sneer, but intimidated by the mystery of the 
 lan^uace in which it was couched she said nothing. A moment 
 
118 A MUMMEK'S WIl'B. 
 
 after, a man attired in knee-breeches, with a huge cravat wound 
 several times round his throat, came running down the stone 
 staircase." 
 
 " Oh ! 'ere he is," said Bill. " I'U leave yer now, marm." 
 
 " And so you found your way, dear 1 " said Dick, putting out his 
 arm to draw Kate towards him. 
 
 But ho looked so very strange with the great patches of coarse 
 red on his cheeks, and the deep black lines drawn about his eyes, 
 that she could not conceal her repulsion. Guessing the cause of 
 her embarrassment,, he said laughing : 
 
 "Ah ! I see you don't know me ! 'Tis a good make-up, isn't 
 it ? I took a good deal of trouble with it." 
 
 Kate made no answer ; but the sound of his voice soothed her, 
 and she leaned upon his arm. 
 
 " Give me a kiss, dear, before we go up," he said coaxingly. 
 
 Kate looked at him curiously, and then, laughing at her own 
 foolishness, said, " Wait until you have the soldier's dress on." 
 
 At the top of the staircase the piled-up side-scenes made so 
 many ways and angles that Kate had to keep close to Dick for 
 fear of getting lost. However at last they arrived in the wings, 
 where gaslights were burning blankly on the white-washed waUs. 
 A crowd of loud-voiced, perspiring girls, in short fancy petticoats 
 and bare necks and arms, pushed their way towards, and scrambled 
 up, mysterious and ladder-like staircases. Ange Pitou had taken 
 off his cocked-hat and was sharing a pint ot beer with Clairette. 
 It being her turn to drink, she said : 
 
 "!Now hold my skirts in, there's a dear; this beer plays the 
 devil with white satin." 
 
 " What nonsense ! " replied Ange. " It isn't on to your skirts 
 it will go if you spill it, but into your bosom. Stop a second, 
 and I'll give, the bottom of the pot a wipe, then you'll be all 
 right." 
 
 In the meanwhile Pomponet and La Rivodifere were engaged in 
 a violent quarrel. 
 
 "Just you understand," shouted Mortimer, "if you want to do 
 any clowning you had better fill your wig with sawdust. It had 
 better be stuffed with something." 
 
 This sally was received with looks of approbation from a circle 
 of supers, who were waiting in the hopes of hearing some spirited 
 dialogue. 
 
 " Clowning ! And what can you do ? 1 suppose your line is 
 the legitimate. Go and play Don John again, and you'll read us 
 the notices in the morning." 
 
 " Notices ! What's the use of your talking of notices ! You 
 never had one, except one to quit from your landlady, poor 
 woman ! " replied Mortimer in his most nasal intonation of voic,e. 
 
 Enchanted at this witticism, the supers laughed, and poor 
 Dubois would have been utterly done for if Dick had not at that 
 moment interposed. 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 119 
 
 Then the scene became more than ever fantastic. Dick, in the 
 costume of a policeman of a bygone age, keeping the peace 
 between a hideous bridegroom in white, with long ringlets over 
 his neck, and a little man wearing a cardboard skull. What did 
 it mean ? A pained sense of bewUderment, but one so clear and 
 acute that it could not be taken for. a dream, was Kate's first 
 feeling. The sweet indolence, the vague mystery she had experi- 
 enced, when she was in the theatre on Thursday night, were 
 replaced by, a glittering nearness of vision that was at once frag- 
 mentary and irritating ; and, longing to shade her dazzled eyes and 
 stay her stunned ears, she withdrew into a corner. The crowding 
 chorus stared at her, and the principals, who loitered in the wings, 
 leered and whispered. Kate could see that she was attracting 
 attention, and passionately she wished that the bridegroom and 
 the baldheaded man would leave off disputing, and allow Dick to 
 come back to her. But they seemed as if they would never cease 
 talking. After abusing each other in as close proximity as Dick 
 would allow them to get, they generally walked away, as turkey- 
 cooks will, but, just as a hope began to dawn that it was all over, 
 one would suddenly return and open the whole argument up afresh. 
 It was impossible to say which was the worse ; the bridegroom was 
 the most offensive, but Pomponet strutted and shook his bald head 
 very aggressively. Kate often feared that they were going to kill 
 each other ; but nothing of the kind happened, and after a deal of 
 cajolery Dick got them into their dressing-room. 
 
 " What do you think, dear," he said, drawing her aside, " if I 
 go and make my change now ? I don't come on till the end 
 of the act, and we'll be able to talk without interruption till 
 then. Besides, you say you like me better as the captain of the 
 guard." 
 
 Kate looked at him in astonishment. She had expected him to 
 explain the rights and wrongs of that terrible quarrel, which so 
 providentially had passed off without feloodshed, and he seemed to 
 have forgotten all about it. 
 
 "But those two gentlemen — the actors — what wUl happen ? Are 
 they going to go away ? " 
 
 " Go away ? Oh Lord, no ! They are both right and both wrong. 
 Of course it is riling to have a fellow mugging behind you with his 
 wig when you are speaking, but one must go in for a bit of extra 
 clowning on a Saturday night." 
 
 Kate knew not what to answer, and, without waiting to consider 
 the matter further, Dick darted down a passage. When he was 
 with her it was well enough, but the moment his protection was 
 withdrawn all her old fears returned to her. She did not know 
 where to stand. The scene-shifters had come to carry away 
 the scenes that were piled up in her comer, and one of the 
 huge slips had nearly fallen on her. A troop of girls in single 
 coloured gowns and poke boni^ets had stopped to stare at her. 
 She remembered their appearance from Thursday, but she had not 
 
130 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 seen then their vulgar, everyday eyes, nor heard until now their 
 coarse, everyday laughs and jokes. Amid this group Lange, fat 
 and lumpy, perorated. She was abusing Hanley. 
 
 " The most beastly place I ever was in, my dear. I always dread 
 the week here. Just look round the house. I don't believe there's 
 a man in front who has a quid in his pocket. Now at Liverpool 
 there are lots of nice men. You should have seen the things I had 
 sent me when I was there with Harrington's company ; and the' 
 bouquets. There were flowers left for me every day." 
 
 What all this meant Kate did not know, and she did not care to 
 guess. For a moment the strange world she found herself in had 
 distracted her thoughts, but it could do so no longer ; no, not if 
 it were ten times as strange. What did she care for these actresses ? 
 What was it to, her what they said or what they thought of her ? 
 She had come to look after her lover ; that was her business, and 
 that only. He was going away to-morrow, and they had arranged 
 nothing ! It was that that was terrible. She did not know 
 whether he was going to remain, or if he expected her to follow 
 with him, and the uncertainty, the delay, irritated and maddened 
 her. She hated the people around her ; she hated them for their 
 laughter, for their fine clothes ; she hated them above all, because 
 they were all calling for him ! It was Mr. Lennox here and Dick there. 
 What did they want with him ? Could they do notliing without 
 him ? It seemed to her that they were all mocking her, and she 
 hated them for it. 
 
 The stage was now full of women. The men stood in the 
 wings or ran to the ends of distant passages and called " Dick, 
 Dick, Dick." 
 
 The orchestra had ceased playing, and the noise in front of the 
 curtain was growing every moment angrier and louder. 
 
 At last Dick appeared, looking splendid in red tights and Hessian 
 boots. Rushing on the stage he caught hold of two or three girls, 
 changed their places, peeped to see if Montgomery was all right, 
 and then gave the signal to ring up. 
 
 But once the curtain was raised, he was surrounded by half-af 
 dozen persons, who all wanted to speak to him. Ridding himself 
 of them, he contrived to get to Kate's side, but they had not 
 exchanged half-a-dozen words before the proprietor asked if he 
 could "have a moment." Then Miss Hender turned up, and 
 begged of Kate to come and see the dressing-rooms, but fearing to 
 miss him she declared she preferred to stay where she was. Never- 
 theless it was difficult notvto listen to her friend's explanations as 
 to what was passing on the stage, and in one of these unguarded 
 moments Dick disappeared. It was heartbreaking, but she could 
 do nothing but wait until he came back. This was not for at 
 least ten minutes, and Kate had a terrible time of it. Like an iron, 
 the idea that she was about to lose her lover forced itself deeper 
 into her heart. The' fate of her life was hanging in the balance, 
 and the few words that were to decide it were, time after time, by 
 
A MUMMER'S WrFE. 121 
 
 ♦things of no importance, being delayed. Dick, who had now 
 returned, was talking with the gasmen, who wanted to know if the 
 extra ' hand " he had engaged was to be paid by the company or 
 the management. It was maddening. Never in her life had she 
 felt bo miserable. Every now and again an actress or an actor 
 would rush through the wings and stare at her ; sometimes it was 
 the whole chorus, headed by Miss Beaumont, whose rude remarks 
 frequently reached her ears. 
 
 She tried to retreat, but the rude eyes and words followed her. 
 Occasionally the -voice of the prompter was heard, "Ifow then, 
 ladies, silence if you please; I can't hear what's being said on the 
 stage." But no one listened to him. Like animals in a fair, they 
 continued to crush and to crowd in the passage, between the wings 
 and the whitewashed wall. A tall, fat girl stood close by ; her hand 
 was on her sword, which she slapped slowly against her thighs. 
 Kate quailed beneath her glance, and shrank back disgusted. The 
 odour of hair, cheap' scent, necks, bosoms, and arms, was over- 
 powering, and to Kate's sense of modesty there was something 
 revolting in this loud display of body. But a bugle-call was soon 
 sounded in the orchestra, and this was the signal for much noise and 
 bustle. The conspirators rushed oflf the stage, threw aside their 
 cloaks, and immediately after the soft curling strains of the waltz 
 were heard ; then the bugle was sounded again, and the girls began 
 to tramp. 
 
 "Cue for soldiers' entrance,'' shouted the prompter. 
 
 "Now then, ladies, are you ready ! " cried Dick, as he put him- 
 self at the head of the army. 
 
 "Yes," was murmured along the line, and Kate v/atched the 
 burly shoulders of her hero marching away at the head of the red 
 legs. 
 
 Tears mounted to her eyes ; suddenly her grief became too great 
 for her to bear, and she burst into an uncontrollable fit of sobbing. 
 What was she to do ? she asked herself. She had been deserted. 
 How foolishly, how wickedly she had acted ! But in reality her 
 emotion was more physical than anything else — a passionate outburst 
 of harassed and exhausted sensibUities. At the bottom of her heait 
 she did not fear desertion so much as she would pretend to herself. 
 A woman's instinct tells her when the real wolf is nigh, and listen- 
 ing to the melodious song of the waltz, she examined her grief some- 
 what as she might a plaything. With tears streaming down her 
 cheeks she sang the tune sadly in an undertone, and it consoled her 
 as a cradle-song might a chOd. It consisted of one melodious phrase, 
 a long sigh of conscious sensuality, backed up by short, crisp varia- 
 tions that sounded like a series of little cynical laughs. 
 
 She was now left alone. Everyone was on the stage, the wings 
 were deserted ; only the gasman stood at his taps, and his back was 
 turned to her, and under the influence of the music gradually the 
 dreams of the other night began to float like rosy mists through the 
 halo of her sorrow. But this was for a moment only. The gasnian 
 
122 A MUMMEK'S WUfE. 
 
 suddenly unwound a rope, down came the curtain, and Kate was 
 again surrounded by a herd of females. The strangeness of the 
 costume lent them a coarseness more than their own. It was horri- 
 fying to see Beaumont holding her dress above her calves. The 
 conspirators had pulled off their wigs, and there was something 
 indescribably painful in the contrast their close-cut pates made with 
 their knee-breeches, and long coats of old time. Familiarity hides 
 many of the abominations of our lives from us, and we have nc 
 suspicion of the truth until we change the form. The bitterness oi 
 sweetness of a well-w(mi adage appeals to us when it is clothed in 
 new language; in the old words, its philosophy would have passed 
 unperceivod. And thus it was with these supers and chorus-girls. 
 In pea-jackets and print dresses their coarseness would have attracted 
 no attention : to see and judge of their animalism it was necessary tc 
 disguise them in the costumes of the Directoire. 
 
 Kate shrank back mortified and enraged that this crowd should be 
 witness to her tears. 
 
 ' ' What's she crying for 2 Who is she ? " 
 
 " A spoon of Dick's," someone whispered, and the lot chuckled 
 and laughed. At last, unable to endure it any longer, fcate profited 
 by a break in the ranks to step aside, and she ran through the wings 
 towards the back of the stage. There she met Dick. 
 
 "And what is the matter, dear?" he said, drawing her to him. 
 " What is all this crying about ? " 
 
 "Oh, Dick ! you shouldn't neglect me as you do, I have beer 
 waiting here, amid those horrid girls, nigh an hour for you, and yoi 
 are talking to everybody but me." 
 
 "It wasn't my fault, dear; I was on in the last act. Thcj 
 couldn't have finished it without me." 
 
 "I don't know, I don't know; but you are going away to-morrow, 
 and I shall never see you again. It is very liard on me that tliis lasi 
 night — night — that " 
 
 "Now, don't cry like that, dear. I tell you what. It is im 
 possible to talk here; everybody's after me. I'll take oflf thesf 
 things, and we'll go for a walk through the town — wiU that do? ] 
 know we've a lot of things to speak about." 
 
 The serious way in which he spoke this last phrase brought oour 
 age to Kate, and she strove to calm herself, but she was sobbing s< 
 heavily that she could not answer. 
 
 "Well, you'U wait here, dear; no one will disturb you, and : 
 sha'n't be above two minutes." 
 
 Kate nodded her head in reply, and, smiling through her tears 
 raised her face for a kiss. 
 
 Five minutes after they were walking up the street together. 
 
 " And how did you get out, dear ? Did they see you ? " 
 
 _" No ; Ralph is bad with his asthma, and mother is sitting upstair 
 with him. I said I had some sewing to do. " 
 
 "You must find it dreadful dull ; five minutes' talk with the ol 
 woman gives me the blues for a week." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE 123 
 
 It seems very stupid to me too— at least, since I have known 
 you. Oh, Dick, Dick ! I can't bear to think you are goins?. I shall 
 never see you again." 
 
 " ^es you will, dear ; we'll try to manage something. You know 
 you have a nice little voice ; I could get you something to do. I 
 wonder if your husband would consent to your going on the stage?" 
 
 "That's impossible; who would do the dressmaking for him? 
 He talks of the business, but if we were relying on what we sell, 
 we d be starving to-morrow. " 
 
 To this Dick made no answer. Now, wrapped in thought, he 
 walked with Kate hanging on his right arm, his left he carried across 
 his chest so that he might hold her hand in his. She told him in 
 brief and passionate phrases how impossible it would be for her to 
 endure her life when he went away. She begged of him not to 
 desert her ; she besought of hun to prolong his stay at least another 
 week, and refused to understand that this was utterly impossible, 
 that another company would be in Hanley on Monday morning. 
 
 Slowly they passed on ; stopping when their talk grew more than 
 ever earnest, and facing each other they held each other's hands, 
 regardless of the jeers of the laughing factory girls. 
 
 " I wouldn't kiss her to-night if I were you," said the most impu- 
 dent. 
 
 "Wouldn't you, indeed?" cried two youths, who, stealing up 
 from behind, seized two of the girls by the waists, and at once 
 administered a series of vigorous kisses. In the struggle and jolting 
 with which these embraces were received Dick and Kate got pushed 
 into the street, and this kind of incident was repeated constantly. 
 Like rabbits come out to disport in the evening, the inhabitants of 
 Hanley had come out of their brick burrows and were enjoying 
 themselves in the market-place. The old men talked in groups and 
 loitered in the roadway, the young men, amorously inclined, larked 
 along the pavement. 
 
 " Let's get out of this ro w, " said Dick. ' ' Is there no quiet street 
 where we could talk in peace." 
 
 "There's Market Street up there. Yoif remember, Dick — where 
 you met me, the day you took me to the potteries. " 
 
 " Let's walk up there then, dear ; it will be nice to see the place 
 again. I didn't know I loved you till that morning." 
 
 These reminiscences were very bitter to talk of, now that only a 
 few hours of love remained to them, but for the moment she said 
 nothing. They passed the dusty square of ground where, in the 
 daytime, the children pulled at the swings and the broken merry- 
 go-rounds. Dark shadows now filled the spaces, and only a few 
 figures could be seen strolling under the high walls at the back. 
 Dick tried to remember in which of the pillbox-looking houses he 
 had been recommended to seek for lodgings. It seemed to him very 
 singular that if he hadn't missed a turning he wouldn't be now 
 thinking of running away with a married woman. 
 
 Kate thought of how she had come out that eventful morning with 
 
124 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 Mrs. Barnes's dress, and how she had stopped to look at the hills, 
 and was thinking of the world far beyond them, when he came up 
 and spoke to her. And filled with these half sad, half sweet recol- 
 lections, they walked towards the square of sky enframed in the end 
 of the street. At last, as they were approaching the summit, Dick 
 said : 
 
 "I hope they won't miss you at home. What excuse would you 
 give for being out so late ? " 
 
 " You mean to say you want to get rid of me ! Oh, Dick, Dick ! 
 how can you be so cruel ! " 
 
 " My dear, I swear to you I never thought of such a thing. Now 
 don't begin to cry ; I assure you I was only thinking of that con- 
 founded old woman. What, after all, is it to you what she says ?" 
 
 "Yes, what is it to me 1 Why should I care 1 They only make 
 me miserable, you make me happy ; at least I should be happy if I 
 did not think I was going to lose you. Oh, Dick ! you won't leave 
 me ; tell me, tell me, that you won't leave me ? " 
 
 They had now reached the exact spot where they had met on 
 that memorable day that had decided the fate at least of her life. 
 Full of sad languor, Kate clung to Dick's arin, and they walked 
 back and forwards aljout the grassgrown mounds of cinders. 
 
 Below them lay the immense black valley, growing dimmer in 
 the vague and melancholy mists of evening. From the dream- 
 filled opening on the left, where in the clear sunlight the outlines 
 of the Wever Hills are seen, the vapours now, like a grey army of 
 ghosts bearing with them winding-sheets and cere-cloths of soft 
 shadow, stole slowly forward. In the vast calm a warm air was 
 exhaled from this bowel of the earth ; already the brutal abrupt- 
 ness of the brickwork of the distant factories was a little blended, 
 just as too hard a drawing is modulated by the passing of a neutral 
 tint over it ; and the deep harmonic measures of monochrome were 
 broken nowhere, except by the black spire of Northwood church, 
 which pierced the one band of purple that yet remained. Below it 
 the crescent-shaped suburb slept like a scaly reptile just crawled 
 from out of its bed of slime. Not a light was yet visible in its 
 innumerable windows, and as the night advanced the white gables 
 of Bagnall Rectory disappeared in the middle gloom of a milk- 
 coloured fog. Up above, however, there was more light, and the 
 dark stems and lowering smoke of the chimneys still contrasted 
 with the dim background of the hills. But this distinction was 
 rapidly disappearing. A scattered veil seemed to fall from the grey 
 heights of the sky and to be dragged in fragments along the valley, 
 between the spectators and the wide green masses of the hiUa. 
 Woods and fields were now blurred and confused, all distinctness, 
 all detail was lost, and the huge rolling sides seemed more than 
 ever like the swell of some gigantic tide-wave pausing before it 
 should engulf on its onward way the sand-mound constructed by some 
 intrepid child. As Kate watched the hills disappearing from hci 
 sight, she thought of the influence they had exercised upon her, 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 125 
 
 and she recalled the imagmation they had fed, the dreams they 
 had given her. Bnt this time of tenderness did not last long ; the 
 bitterness that had been for weeks past surging within her against 
 the imprisoning walls of the town rose from her heart to her head, 
 and in a gross moment of exultation she remembered that never 
 before had she looked out to the horizon without seeing these huge 
 mountain-sides barring her view. Now they were passing away, 
 and heedless of Dick's questions she watched the outlines dis- 
 appearing. She almost trembled in fear that some miracle ^ight 
 stay the mcreasing darkness, and she could not avoid thinking of 
 Joshua and the sun standing stillj ' 
 
 At 'last, awakening up from her reveries, she said passionately, 
 throwing her arms on his shoulder — 
 
 " But you won't desert me ? TeU me that you 'will take me 
 away from this horrible place. I could not bear it when you were 
 gone — I would sooner die." 
 
 This was the first time that a direct mention of an elopement had 
 been made. They had both been unconsciously considering the 
 agreeabilities of such an act for some time past, but the conse- 
 quences thereof had not occurred to either party until the proposi- 
 tion had been put forward in so many words. 
 
 "Of course I'll take you away, my dear," said Dick with a distinct 
 vision of the Divorce Court in his mind, " but you know that will 
 mean giving up everything and travelling about the country with 
 us, and 1 don't know that you will like it." 
 
 " You mean that you don't love me enourfi to take me away," 
 cried Kate frantically. " Oh, I did not thiEi you were so cruel ! 
 I thought you loved me better." 
 
 Passion and jealousy were now dominant in Kate, and the 
 suspicion of fear that she had at first felt at the thoughts of leaving 
 her home vanished in the rage that her lover's fancied hesitation 
 had caused her. Clinging about him, she waited for his answer. 
 
 " I'll take you away, dear, if you'll come. I never liked a 
 woman as I do you. 'The train:call is for ten o'clock. We must 
 contrive something. How are you to meet me at the station ? " 
 
 It was Kate's turn then to hesitate. The knowledge of the 
 power of bearing children forces every woman to look to her home 
 as a bird to its nest. In the highest and lowest ranks this natural 
 instinct is counteracted by circumstances, but the whole life of the 
 middle-class woman tends to confirm it. She is rich enough to 
 possess a home, but too poor to leave it, except on the rarest 
 occasions. Her power begins and ends there ; she is unknown 
 beyond it. She may be vile or virtuous, but in either case her 
 good or bad qualities flourish within the threshold of her own door. 
 
 And with Kate the ties of home, or rather those of locality were, 
 of course, doubly strong. She had never been out of the Potteries 
 in her life ; bom, reared, and married she had been here. Beyond 
 the awful circle of the hills all was as vague to her as beyond the 
 sea-banks is to the oyster. And not only was she going away into 
 
126 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 this unknown region, without hope of ever being able to return 
 again, but she was going there to roam she did not know whither — 
 adrift, and as helpless as a tame bird, freed and delivered to the 
 enmities of an unknown land. Half the truth dawned upon her in 
 that moment, and lifting her eyes, she said — 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! you are asking a great deal of me. What shall I 
 do ? Never, never, never to see Hanley again ! " 
 
 "I didn't know that you cargd so much about Hanley. And you 
 accused me just now of not loving you enough to take you away. 
 I think it is you who don't love me." 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! you know that 1 love you better than anything in 
 the worlcl ! But to give up everything, never to see what you have 
 seen all your life." 
 
 " I don't think you'll regret it, dear ; we'll be very happy. We 
 are going from this to Derby, and from that to Blackpool, a very 
 jolly place by the sea. We'll go out boating arid picnicing." 
 
 Actors who are not gypsies by nature invariably marry after a 
 few years of travelling. The monotony of constant change, the 
 incessant veneering of the mind with new impressions, no sooner 
 produced than wiped out, the certain breaking up of all ties that 
 their mechanical hurry from town to town entails, forces the 
 most fickle to long to be, if no more, constant to their heart's 
 desire, and instinctively leads the most volatile to dream of some- 
 thing stable and tangible. For the travelling actor there is no 
 society. He arrives in a strange town : the discomfort of living in 
 a whirl of new lodging-houses he has probably grown accustomed 
 to, but the dreadful'houra of inoccupation passed amid fresh scones 
 and unfamiliar faces remain as burdensome as ever. Many of his 
 "pals" are married ; he cannot intrude upon them, and therefore 
 his only amusement or distraction is a chance of conversation in a 
 public-house. These influences had been at work upon Dick for a 
 long time past. Before being placed at the head of the present 
 tour he had been playing heavy leads in Shakespearean revivals. 
 There everybody was married, and Dick had a tiresome time of it. 
 His recent liaison with Miss Leslie, and several still more ephe- 
 meral loves with the ladies of the chorus, had interested him for 
 the time being ; but nevertheless, the recollections of the family 
 comforts he had been recently witness to remained in his mmd, 
 and now that 'the chance of realising a nice settled life presented 
 itself he found himself unable to resist availing himself of the 
 occasion. He was sick of being alone. Kate was a very pretty 
 woman, had a nice little soprano voice, and he was sure he'd be 
 able to get her something to do by-and-bye. Besides, he was very 
 fond of her, and he was quite sure they'd get on famously together. 
 
 Thi? was the substance of his thoughts concerning Kate, and he 
 knew no more about the matter than that he loved her far better 
 than he had any one since his affair with the countess, who had 
 come tliirty times to see him play the part of the Indian in tlie 
 Octoroon. Indolent as this man was by nature, he could when the 
 
A SlUMMEK'S WIFE. 127 
 
 occasion required wake up to fits of the most surprising energy. 
 He had, there being no need for his interference, accepted Kate's 
 aflection lazily ; but now, the moment there was danger of losing 
 her, he began to bestir himself. Putting his arms quite around 
 
 c i7 ^ movement that could not fail to delight a woman, 
 BO full was it of softness and protective strength, he said— 
 
 '\J°^ niist not think about it any more, dear. I cannot, I 
 could not, leave this place without you. What is your husband to 
 you when you love me? We shall be happier than you ever 
 dr^med of being. Kiss me, darling." 
 
 Kate raised her face to his, feeling then that nothing but this 
 man concerned her in the world. 
 
 Behind them were the back-yards of a row of small houses. 
 Two or three girls stood on the doorsteps talking to their admirers, 
 and the print dresses made pale stains in the gloom. Overhead 
 the sky was murky and cold ; a few stars shimmered, and a 
 vapid moon struggled through heavy masses of travelling clouds: 
 below an immense sea of purply vapour had filled iEuU the valley. 
 The tide of mist had flowed from the lowest deeps to the highest 
 ridges, and as these were barely defined against the wide grey sky, 
 an exact image of the ocean was produced. But the imitation ex- 
 ceeded the reality in grandeur, for the horizon's line being placed 
 high above the eye, the illusion of unbounded space was perfectly 
 realised. Otherwise the likeness was complete, and so striking was 
 it that even Dick did not fail to perceive it. Altera moment's con- 
 templation he said — 
 
 " You told me, dear, that you had never seen the sea ; well the 
 view before you is more like it than anything I ever saw in my 
 life ; that is to say, as it looks at night." 
 
 Kate did not answer at once, but at the end of a long silence 
 she said, "You mustn't laugh at me, dear Dick, but I can't tell you 
 how frightened I am at not being able to see those hills. I have 
 been watching them all my life, and never lost sight of them till 
 now." 
 
 For answer Diok kissed her, and agam they relapsed into con- 
 templation. 
 
 Momentarily the spectacle grew more striking and magnificent. 
 Pumace-fires flashed everywhere through the wide shadow-sea. 
 For mUes, on the right, on the left, they sprang into existence, and 
 then remained fixed like stars in the purple concave of night. In 
 the foreground — that is to say, in the heart of the valley — they 
 were most numerous. There were there separate lights, groups, 
 and constellations, and in lines they wandered over miles of coun- 
 try, becoming scarcer as they ascended the hidden slopes of the 
 hills. Along the ridges they appeared like vessels passing about the 
 horizon of a vast sea. On tide left Northwood's sharp back was seen 
 like the rough line of a rocky coast; on the right the lights of 
 Southwark might have been mistaken for a fleet of fishing-boats 
 riding at anchor in a dead calm. The tall stems of the factory 
 
128 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 chimneys, the bottle-shaped pottery-ovens, the intricate shafts ( 
 the collieries, were hidden as deep in the mist as ever a city was i 
 the sea ; and had there been stars overhead to account for the mu 
 titudinous fires below, this region of man's most ceaseless aotivi) 
 would have appeared as untrodden as any ocean view that ar 
 coast-land of the north coujd show. 
 
 In rapt contemplation Kate watched the centres of fire that bun 
 through the evening vapours, as her own desires had burst throug 
 the vague dreams that had so long enveloped her life. Like dov( 
 seeking a place to rest for the night, her eyes eagerly followed tl 
 enigmatic flight of the furnaces. And as those earth-stars mounte 
 towards the sky, her interest in them became more intense ; 
 throbbed in her brain even as did their reverberating lights in tl 
 air, and in a sort of palsied amazement she watched them as a chi] 
 might a glittering flight of strange butterflies making for the se; 
 She even wondered for their safety. At last a furnace blazed in) 
 existence high amid the hills, so high that it must have been on tli 
 very last verge. It seemed to Kate, in a wUd moment, like 
 hearth of pleasure and comfort that was awaiting her in a myst 
 and unimagined country, and for some time her enamoured ey( 
 and dreams caressed the distant light ; but soon her glance was a 
 tracted by another still further away, still higher in tlie heavem 
 Then quickly her fancies followed, according themselves to Ui 
 pale luminary, until she saw it was only a star that had risen abo^ 
 the hills. Humiliated, and half conscious of the indefinite allegor; 
 she sought to fix her interest in the star, but below, only separate 
 apparently by a few feet, the earthly light blazed a carnal red as : 
 in answer defiant to the more spiritual pallor of its heavenly siste: 
 
 Then Kate forgot her fears for the future. Her passionate hat 
 of the present returned in ten times accentuated force, and withoi 
 any words of transition she flung her arms upon Dick's shouldei 
 " Oh, yes, Dick, I'll go with you. Why shouldn't 1 1 Are you nc 
 everything to me ? I never knew what happiness was till I sa 
 you ; I never had any amusement, I never had any love ; it wi 
 nothmg but drudgery from morning to night. Better be dead tha 
 continue such an existence. Oh 1 you don't know what it is. 
 have been a good wife ; I have spent whole nights sitting l 
 Ralph's bedside listening to his wheezing, giving him his medicinei 
 and what did I get for it but coarseness and abuse ? I never love 
 him, and I don't think he ever loved me very much ; at any rati 
 he has never shown it. My mother and his made up the marriage 
 and I don't know why I consented. Ah, if I hadn't I should I 
 free now, and you might marry me, and we would go away froi 
 this horrible place together; far away beyond these hUls thatlha^ 
 been watching since I was a child, and that I'm sick of watchin' 
 There is a beautiful country far by the sea— at least, I have res 
 there is— and we shall go there. Tell me, Dick, dear, oh my da 
 ling ! tell me that you'll take me away." 
 
 Dick listened calmly and quietly to these passionate beseeching 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 129 
 
 and taking her in his arms he kissed her fervidly, though somewhat 
 with the air of one who deems further explanation unnecessary. 
 But when he withdrew his face Kate continued, at first plaintively, 
 but afterwards with more passion — 
 
 " It is very wicked, I know it is, but I can't help myself. I was 
 brought up religiously, nobody more so, but I never could think of 
 God and forget tliis world like my mother and Mrs. Bde. I always 
 used to like to read tales about lovers, and I used to feel miserable 
 when they did not marry in the end and live happily. But then 
 those people were good and pure, and were commanded to love 
 each other, whereas I am sinful, and shall be punished for my sin. 
 I don't know how that will be ; perhaps you will cease to love me, 
 and will abandon me. All, when you cease to love I hope I shall 
 die. But you will never do that, Dick ; tell me that you will not. 
 You will remember that I gave up a great deal for you ; that I left 
 my home for you ; that I left everything. " 
 
 Dick could not help thinking that this was a little wearisome. 
 He was very fond of Kate, and she liked him, and they were going 
 away together ; so far he knew, so much had been decided, and as 
 far as he could see there the matter ended. Besides, it was gettmg 
 very late ; the third act must be now nearly over, and he had a lot 
 of business to get through. But it was difficult to suggest that 
 they should go home, for Kate, unable to control herself any longer, 
 had burst into tears, and it was necessary to console her. 
 
 " Don't cry like that, dear," he said softly, " we shall be far away 
 from here to-morrow, and you will find out thenhowwellllove you." 
 ' "Oh! do you really love me? If I were only sure that it was so." 
 
 "If I didn't love you, why should I ask you to go away with me? 
 If I didn't iove you, could I kiss you as I do ? " 
 
 These words reassured Kate, and she told passionately how her 
 love had grown upon her. 
 
 " Of course we have been very wicked, and you can't respect me 
 very much ; but t hen you made love to me so, and the music made 
 me forget everything. It wasn't all my fault, I think, and you 
 were so difiierent from all the other men I have seen — so much more 
 like what I imagined a man should be, so much more like the heroes 
 in the novels. In the books there is, you know, always a tenor 
 who comes and sings under the windows in the moonlight, and 
 sends the lady he loves roses. You never sent me an}' roses, 'tis 
 true, but then there are no loses in Hanley. But then you were so 
 kind and nice, and spoke so difierent, and when I looked at your 
 blue eyes I couldn't help feeling I loved you. I really think I 
 knew — at least 1 couldn't talk to you quite in the same way as I 
 did to other men. You remember when I was showing you over 
 the rooms, how you stopped to talk to me about the pious cards 
 Mrs. Ede had hung on the wall. Well then, since then I felt that 
 you liked me. And it was so difterent since you came to live in the 
 house. I didn't see much of you, you were always so busy, but I 
 used to lie awake at night to hear you ;ome in." 
 
 £ 
 
130 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 Dick was not in the least averse to hearing himself praised, but 
 he nevertheless found it impossible to forget the accounts he had to 
 go through with the manager before leaving the town, and that his 
 wardrobe had yet to be packed. Where they were to sleep that 
 night he hadn't a notion, but that was a detail. Anyhow, it was 
 clear they were doing no good where they were and he had to get 
 back to the theatre. 
 
 " Look here, dear, 1 know you are very fond of me, so am I of 
 you, but I must get back to the tlieatre. You have no idea of the 
 business I have to get through to-night, and as we are going away 
 together we'll have to look out for some place to put up." 
 
 This necessity for immediate action at once startled and frightened 
 her, and bursting again into a passionate fit of sobbing she ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! this is a terrible thing you are asking me to do. Oh 1 
 what will become of me 1 But do you love me 1 Tell me agaia 
 that you do love me, and that you'll not leave me." 
 
 Reassuring her with caresses and kind words, Dick drew her 
 tenderly away, and clasping him for present and future protection, 
 she allowed herself to be led. She did not speak again, and she 
 only once again looked towards the hills, the misty hills that had 
 so silently shadowed and moulded the forms of her tiioughts. 
 
 Like a river of flame discharging itself into an ocean of fire 
 Northwood blazed. On the right distance had blended and 
 rendered hazy the thousand lights of Southwark, until it seemed 
 like one of the luminous clouds that crown the vomiting mouth of a 
 volcano. The furnace-fires had increased by tens ; each dazzling 
 line was now crossed and interwoven with other lines ; and through 
 the tears that blinded her eyes, Kate saw an immense sea of fire 
 and beyond nothing but unfathomable grey. 
 
131 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The morning of the following day was misty, and it threatened rain. 
 Nevertheless bright, hard shafts of sunlight broke occasionally from 
 the grey bondage of the clouds, and danced over the wet tiles of the 
 roofs. One of these escaped rays had found its way through the 
 dull window of a coffee-room. The silver of the cruet-stand sparkled, 
 and a little pool of light slept on a corner of the tablecloth, witliin 
 a few inches of Kate's impatiently moving fingers. 
 
 She looked anxiously at Dick, who, with bent head and shoulders, 
 sat eagerly devouring a fat chop. The meal seemed to her inter- 
 minable. While she had been unable to do more than crumble a 
 piece of bread and sip a cup of tea, he had been emptying plates of 
 crumpets and racks of toast. Certain that they would never be able 
 to reach the station in time to catch the train, she felt she would go 
 mad if forced to spend another night in Hanley. Her distress of 
 mind fluctuated. After a passionate appeal for haste, her anxiety 
 would slip from her, and she would abandon herself to the delight 
 of dreaming of the time when she would see the landscape passing 
 behind her, feel the wind in her face, and know that she was being 
 carried as fast as steam could take her to a remote country, from 
 whence there is no returning. During these pauses in the conver- 
 sation Dick chewed the succulent meat greedily, and asked himself 
 if there would be time to put away another plate of fried eggs before 
 ten minutes to ten. To assure himself on this point he had to turn 
 to look at the clock, which was behind him. The movement awaked 
 Kate from her reveries, and a host of nervous fears flashed upon her. 
 "Oh, Dick, Dick! make haste, I beg of you; you don't know 
 what I'm sufiering. Supposing my husband was to come in now and 
 find us here, what should I do ? " 
 
 " He can't know that we are here ; the station is the first place 
 he'd go to ; there's no use hanging about there longer than we can 
 help." 
 
 " Oh, dear, I'd give ten years of my life if we were once in the 
 train. And Mrs. Ede, what should I do if I met her ? It would be 
 worse than Ralph." 
 
 "There's no use exciting yourself like that, dear; I'U see tliat 
 you don't meet anyone." 
 
 ■' How will you manage that ? " 
 
 " I'll tell you in the cab. I think on the whole we'd better start 
 
1.32 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 now. Luckily we haven't much luggage to delay us. Waiter, bring 
 the bill and call me a cab." 
 
 Terrified as she was by the announcement that the station was to 
 be feared as the real point of danger, she nevertheless felt that she 
 would prefer to brave it rather than to patiently wait to be ignomini- 
 ously captured as she sat watching Dick finishing another plate of 
 eggs and bacon. 
 
 " And how will you save me from meeting him should he be there 
 before us ? " Kate said to Dick as they drove away. 
 
 " I'll leave you in the cab, and I'll out down and see if he is 
 there." 
 
 " Oh, no ; I couldn't bear to be left alone in the cab. He might 
 come from behind somewhere and find me when you were gone, and 
 that would be worse than anything. He might kill me, and I should 
 have no one to save me." 
 
 Dick made no answer to Kate's frightened fancy. He was, in 
 truth, a little puzzled to know how to act. There was no getting 
 away from the fact that it was only too possible, not to say probable, 
 that they would find Mr. Ede waiting for them. Disguises, secret 
 d6ors, and remembrances of heroes and heroines who had passed 
 under their watcher's nose without being perceived flashed through 
 the actor's mind ; but masks and wigs are not available in railway 
 stations. A recollection of Falstaff reminded him of the wardrobe- 
 baskets, but a moment's reflection convinced him of the impracti- 
 cability of stowing Kate away in one of these. He dreaded the 
 strength of the bottom, and, besides, what was to be done with the 
 dresses ? He then thought of wrapping a railway rug around his 
 newly-acquired wife, and carrying her thus concealed in his anns ; 
 but that would not do either. Mr. Ede would be sure to ask him 
 what he had there — the feet would be stickin? out. 
 
 Kate, in the meanwhile sufiering agonies of mind, watched the 
 great brick roads, vistas of red turning to purple on the left, spaces 
 of pure red on the right, behind them and before them high walls of 
 pale brown melting into ochre-colour. The implacable reality of 
 these maddened her ; her mind was charged with visions of green 
 fields and dreams of love that was eternal. This would be hers if 
 she could only escape. Oh, to be a few miles away — only a few — 
 and look out of the railway-carriage window and see Hanley fading 
 out of sight ! For the moment she knew no regret. The desire of 
 escape and the danger she ran of capture completely dominated her 
 mind, and she was conscious of nothing else. The thoughts of the 
 man and the woman did not run on similar lines, but tSey tended 
 towards the same point. For, sum the question up as they would, 
 they found themselves stUl face to face with the still unsolved ques- 
 tion of what they were going to do if they met Mr. Ede. At 
 length, after a long silence, Kate said : 
 
 ' ' Oh, Dick, dear ! what shall I do if we find him waiting on the 
 platform ? You will protect me, will you not ? You will not desert 
 mel I couldn't go back to him." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. IS3 
 
 "Of course not. Let him take you away from me? Not me ! 
 If you don't want to live with him any more you have a right to 
 leave him. If he gives me any of his cheek I'll knock him down." 
 
 " You won't do that, will you, dear ? Bemember how small and 
 weak he is ; you'd kill him. 
 
 " That's true, so I would. Well, I'm damned if I know what to 
 do ; I was never in such a fix in my life. One thing is clear, you'll 
 have to come with me even if he does kick up a row and wants to 
 get you back. It will be deuced unpleasant, and before the whole 
 company too. Don't you think that you could wait a moment in 
 the cab while I have a look round — I won't go far." 
 
 "Oh, I'd be too afraid 1 Couldn't you ask some one to go for 
 you?" 
 
 " I'll see who's there," said Dick, twisting his neck to look round 
 the comer. " By Jove ! they're aU there — ^Beaumont, Dolly God- 
 dard, and that confounded bore Mortimer, and Montgomery. I 
 think I'll ask Montgomery, he's a devilish good chap. We had 
 better stop the cab here and I'll call to him." 
 
 Kate consented, and a moment after the musician's immense nose 
 and scarecrow face was poked in the window. 
 
 " Hey, old pal, what is it ? Waiting — ^but — I beg " 
 
 "Never mind that," said Dick, laying his hand on the young 
 fellow's arm ; " I want you to do me a great favour. I want you to 
 cut down on the platform, and see if there's a little scraggy man 
 about the height of Dubois hanging about anywhere. You can't 
 mistake him : he has a dirty dark beard that grows on his face like 
 a bunch of grass, and he's no chest, little thin shoulders, and he'd ' 
 have on " 
 
 "A pair of grey trousers, and a red woollen comforter round his 
 neck," whispered Kate, feeling bitterly ashamed. 
 
 "All right," said Montgomery, "I'll spot him if he's there. 
 But you know that the train goes in ten minutes or less, and Hayes 
 says that he can't take the tickets, that you have all the coin." 
 
 " So I have ; I forgot to send it round to him last night. Ask 
 him to step up here, there's a good fellow." 
 
 " Now, I bet you Hayes won't be able to get the tickets right. 
 He's perfectly useless, always boozed — snipping you know. " 
 
 Kate did not answer, and an uneasy silence ensued, which was 
 broken at length by the appearance of a hiccuping, long-whiskered 
 man. 
 
 "How are you, o-o-ld man. Eh ! who is ? I don't think I 
 
 have the pleasure of this lady's acquaintance." 
 
 "No? Mrs. Ede, Mr. Hayes, our acting manager. Now, look 
 here, Hayes, you go and get the tickets. I can't leave this lady. 
 Thirty-five will do." 
 
 ' ' How thirty-five ? We travel forty-one. " 
 
 "You know well enough that thirty-five is what we always get, 
 Damn it, man, make haste." 
 
 " Don't damn me. New member of the com-oom-pany, eh 1 " 
 
^S^ A MUMMER'S WIFE 
 
 "I'U tell you all about that after, old man," said Dick, leaning 
 forward and pretending to whisper confidentially. 
 
 This satisfied the tippler, who, after pulling his silky whiskers and 
 serving Kate to another blank, drunken stare, hurried off, black bag 
 in hand. 
 
 " Confounded nuisance it is to have to deal with a fellow like 
 that. He's perfectly incapable, and he thinks he's such a dab at 
 business — and 'tis for show that he always goes about with the black 
 bag." 
 
 Kate wondered how Dick could talk about such things. She was 
 trembling, and her brain throbbed. Leaning back in the cab she 
 placed .her hands before her eyes. Two minutes, maybe three, 
 passed ; it seemed to her an eternity, and then she heard Mont- 
 gomery's voice crying, 
 
 " 'Tis all right. There's no such person there, I'm sure." 
 
 Kate felt her mind grow clear, and the strain on her nerves was 
 relaxed. She looked at Montgomery and read in his eye that he 
 was her friend. The glance was as cheering as is the song of a bird 
 amid the wet trees when the storm is over. 
 
 " Then get out, dear," said Dick, " we haven't a moment to lose." 
 
 Kate jumped out on' the pavement, but she hadn't walked a dozen 
 yards before she stopped panic-stricken. ' 
 
 " Mrs. Edo — my mother-in-law — perhaps she is there ! Oh, 
 Dick! what shall I do 2" 
 
 " I know whom you mean. She isn't there. I couldn't mistake, 
 for 1 know her by sight." 
 
 As she hurried towards the station, Kate looked again at Mont- 
 gomery ; their eyes met, and they felt they were signing a sort of 
 compact of friendship. For now that she was really adrift in a new 
 world, amid strange people, the slight fact of his knowing her 
 mother-in-law by sight meant to her what a footprint does to a lost 
 one in a desert. 
 
 As they passed through the station they were stared at. Kate 
 was astonished at the number of people. They reminded her of a 
 school. The girls strolled about in groups and couples. Some had 
 paired off with young men. Joe Mortimer stood in the centre of 
 the platform, and harangued a small crowd that had collected 
 round him. Dick smiled and nodded to everybody. Kate felt a 
 little proud when she perceived he was not ashamed of her. He 
 did not speak to her, but rushed about, dragging her after him, 
 giving orders everywhere. The grey asphalte was strewn with 
 luggage of all kinds— brown portmanteaus and huge white baskets. 
 All were labelled "Morton and Cox's Operatic Company." The 
 baggage-man was shouting at porters, and ladies of the company 
 ran after jihe baggage-man. 
 
 " We shall be off in a minute, dear," Dick whispered softly in her 
 ear, " and then^" 
 
 "Whose carriage are you going in, Dick?" said a little stout 
 man who walked with a strut and wore a hat like a bishop's 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 135 
 
 "I really don't know : I don't mind ; anywhere except with the 
 pipe-smokers. I can't stand that lot." 
 
 " Perliaps he's going to take a first-class compartment with hot- 
 water pans," remarked Mortimer. 
 
 This little speech was delivered in the usual nasal twang which 
 was supposed to convert the baldest platitudes into the keenest wit, 
 and the little group of admirers all laughed consumedly. 
 
 Dick, who overheard what had been said, let his face cloud, and 
 he said, half to himself, half to Kate : — 
 
 " What a confounded fool that fellow Mortimer is ! 1 very 
 nearly kicked him into the orchestra at Halifax about six months 
 ago." 
 
 "What do they think of me?" replied Kate, very frightened. 
 " I'm afraid they all despise me." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense. Despise you ? I should like to know what for. 
 But what compartment shall we take ? You know we always travel 
 in separate cliques. Let's go with Leslie and Dubois and Mont- 
 gomery ; they are the quietest. Let me introduce you to Miss 
 Leslie. Miss Leslie, Mrs. Ede — a lady I'm escorting to Blackpool." 
 
 " I'm afraid you'll find us a very noisy lot, Mrs. Ede," said Miss 
 Leslie, in a way that made Kate feel intimate with her at once. 
 
 "Now look here," exclaimed Dick, "you two talk together. I 
 won't go far ; I'll be back in a minute, but I must see after Hayes ; 
 if I don't he may forget all about the tickets." 
 
 Kate was ashamed to stop him ; and once he ivas gone her fears of 
 meeting her husband returned, and the strange faces terrified her. 
 They were of all sorts, and were recognisable by marked similarity. 
 Miss Leslie had a bright smiling face, with clear blue eyes, and a 
 mop of dyed hair peeped from under a prettUy-ribboned bonnet, 
 and Kate, notwithstanding her trouble, could not help noticing how 
 beautifully cut were the plaits of her skirt, from under which an 
 arched foot in tightly buttoned leather was constantly advanced. 
 Miss Beaumont sported large diamonds in her ears, and she wore a 
 somewhat frayed yellow French cloak which, she explained to the 
 girls near her, particularly to her pal, Dolly Goddard, was quite 
 good enough for travelling. The friendship between these two no 
 one in the company could understand. The knowing ones declared 
 that DoUy was Beaumont's daughter ; others, who professed to be 
 more knowing, entertained other views. DoUy was a tiny girl with 
 crumpled features, who wore dresses that were re-made from the 
 big woman's cast-off garments. She sang in the chorus, was in re- 
 ceipt of a salary of five-and-twenty shillings a week, and was a 
 favourite with everyone. Around her stood a group of girls ; they 
 formed a black mass of cotton, alpaca, and dirty cloth. A little on 
 the right half a dozen chorus-men talked seriously of the possibility 
 of getting another drink before the train came up. Their frayed 
 boots and threadbare frock coats would have caused them to be 
 mistaken for street idlers, but that one or two of their number exhibi- 
 ted patent leathers and smart made-up cravats of the latest fashion. 
 
136 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 Everywhere some contradiction was observed. Dubois's hat gave 
 him the appearance of a bishop, his tight trousers confounded him 
 with a, groom. Joe Mortimer made up very well, with his set ex- 
 pression of face, and his long onrls, for the actor whose friends once 
 believed he was a genius. But it was Montgomery who had been 
 struck the most decidedly with the trade-mark that had been laid 
 sometimes lightly, sometimes heavily, upon this band of travelling 
 mummers. Although it was clear that they were separated as much 
 by birth as they were by education, as much by fortune as they were 
 by talent, it was nevertheless curious to remark how they were 
 united by that inexpressible something, that look of unrest, that 
 homeless air, wliich change of place and fortune imprints upon the 
 human vagrant. There was the same difference between the 
 worthy tradesman walking with his wife at the other end of the 
 platform, and these forty-two wanderers, as there is between the 
 firm land that the peasant tUls and the loose sand that the sea-wind 
 blows. Montgomery was a perfect specimen : the very tails of his 
 long Newmarket coat seemed as if they would preclude his frail 
 body from resting long in any one place, just as the down of the 
 dandelion catches the breeze and hurries, the floating seed away. 
 His face was generally seen in profile, for he had a knack of leaning 
 his head to the left and right as he talked, and a profile in 
 Montgomery's case meant a long nose and a side view of a, pince-nez. 
 He spoke of finales and the difficulty he experienced when he first 
 went into an orchestra of beating two in a bar. Even now when he 
 was talking to Kate, who shrank back trembling at the appearance 
 of every fresh face on the platform, he could not divest his conver- 
 sation of theatrical allusions. Around the unfortunate woman a 
 circle was forming. Only Miss Leslie, little Dubois, who had of 
 course undertaken to put every thing to rights, talked to her ; 
 the others stood as near to her as they could, to listen and watch. 
 The news that Dick was running away with a married woman, and 
 that the husband was expected to appear every minute to stop her, 
 had gone about. It had reached even the ears of the chorus-men 
 in the refreshment room, and they gulped down their beerand hurried 
 back to see the sport. Mortimer declared that they were going to 
 see Dick for the first time in legitimate drama, and that he 
 wouldn't miss it for the world. The joke was repeated through the 
 groups, and everyone was convulsed .with laughter. Beaumo'np 
 alone spoke unkindly, and she whispered, and in -whispers that 
 were too audible, that she couldn't understand how Dick was 
 such a fool, that they didn't want a shopwoman travelling with 
 them. These remarks did not, however, meet with much ap- 
 proval, and the fat woman had many indignant glances levelled 
 at her. She did not seem to mind: but when Kate, whose 
 agony of mind had for some time past been growing intolerable, 
 burst into tears, Beaumont, looking a little ashamed, pressed for- 
 ward to see and console. Her efforts were however repulsed, and 
 then a very pretty movement of commiseration was visible in the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 137 
 
 crowd. Mias Leslie pulled out a lace handkerchief which she 
 pressed against Kate's eyes, and in the grey twilight which fell 
 through the dirty glass roofing, the weeping woman walked aside 
 with her new-found friend. 
 
 Immediately after a growling noise was heard, and the green- 
 painted engine, enshrouded in its white steam, puffed into sight, 
 and at the same moment, dragging drunken Mr. Hayes along with 
 him, Dick was also seen making his way towards them from the re- 
 freshment-room. 
 
 Then Kate felt glad, and almost triumphantly she dashed the 
 tears from her eyes. No one now could stop her. She was 
 going away, and with Dick, to be loved and live happy for ever. 
 Beaumont was forgotten, and the fierce longing for change she had 
 been so long nourishing now completely mastered her, and, with a 
 childlike, impetuosity, she rushed up to her lover, and, leaning on 
 his arm, strove to speak. She could not find words for passion. 
 , " What is it, dear 1 " he said, bending towards her. " What are 
 you crying about ? " 
 
 "Oh, nothing, Dick. I'm so happy. Oh! were we once outside 
 this station ! Where shall I get in ? " 
 
 Even if her husband did come, and she were taken back, she 
 thought that she would like to have been at least inside a railway 
 carriage. 
 
 "Get in here. Where's Montgomery ? Let's have him." 
 
 " And, oh ! do ask Miss Leslie ? She has been so kind to me." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; she always travels with us," said Dick, standing at 
 the carriage door. " Come, get in, Montgomery, and do make haste, 
 Dubois." 
 
 " But Where's Bret ? " shouted some one. 
 
 "I haven't seen him,'' replied several voices. 
 
 " Is there any lady missing ? " asked Montgomery. 
 
 "No," replied Mortimer in the deepest nasal intonation he could 
 assume, " but I noticed a relation of the chief banker in the town 
 in the theatre last night. Perhaps our friend has had his cheque 
 stopped*" 
 
 Soars of laughter greeted this sally, the relevance of which no one 
 could even faintly guess : and the guard smiled as he said to the 
 porter. 
 
 "That's Mr. Mortimer. Amusing is them theatre gentlemen." 
 Then turning to Dick, " I must start the train. Your friend 
 will be late if he don't come up jolly quick." 
 
 " Isn't it extraordinary that Bret can never be up to time ? 
 Every night there's a stage wait for him to come on for the serenade," 
 said Dick, withdrawing his head from the window. 
 
 " Here 'e is, sir," said the guard. 
 
 " Come on, Bret ; you'll be late," shouted Dick. 
 
 A tall, thin man in a velvet coat, urged on by two porters, was 
 seen making his way, with a speed that was evidently painful, down 
 the platform. 
 
138 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " Come in here," said Dick, opening. the door and hauling the 
 panting creature into tlae moving train. 
 
 Out of the dim station they passed into the bright air ; but it was 
 some time before they got out of the huge ways and embankments 
 of brick that impeded on every side the view. There were long 
 lines of coal-waggons, and others laden with the produce of Hanley — 
 chimney-pots and tiles. These were covered with black tarpaulin, 
 and the impression produced was that of a funeral procession march- 
 ing through a desert whose colour was red. The collieries steamed 
 above their cinder-hills, the factory chimneys belched forth their 
 filthy smoke, and looking at the passing vision Kate strove to feal 
 perfectly glad. For suddenly her joy had been touched by the light, 
 sharp wings of that sorrow which is so completely a part of our 
 nature, that we are conscious of its presence even in bidding good- 
 bye to things that we hate ; and as she looked out on this world of 
 work that she was leaving for, ever, she listened at once to the un- 
 certain trouble that mounted up through her mind, and to the voices 
 of the actors tal^dng of comic songs and dances. 
 
 Then instinctively she put out her hand to find Dick's. He was 
 sitting beside her, and she felt happy again. At these intimacies none 
 but Frank Bret seemed in the least surprised, and the laugh that 
 made Kate blush was occasioned by the tenor's stupid look of bewil- 
 derment. It was the first time he had seen her, and the story of 
 her elopement he had not yet heard. His glance went from one to 
 the other, vainly demanding an explanation: to increase the hilarity 
 Dick said : 
 
 "But, by-the-way, Bret, what made you so late this morning? 
 Were you down at the bank cashing a cheque ? " 
 
 " What are you thinking of ? There are no banks open on Sun- 
 day morning," said Bret, who of course had not the least idea what 
 was meant. 
 
 The reply provoked peals of laughter from all save Miss Leslie, 
 and aU possible changes were rung on the joke untU it became as 
 nauseous to the rest of the company as to the bewildered tenor, who 
 bore the chaff with the dignified stupidity of good looks. 
 
 They were in a third-iflass railway carriage. Kate sat next the 
 window, with her back to the engine ; Dick was beside her, Miss 
 Leslie faced her ; then came Dubois and Bret, with Montgomery at 
 the far end. 
 
 The conversation, which had fallen to the ground on the expira- 
 tion of the Sunday cheque joke, had just been resumed. Dubois 
 was explaining his method of delivering blank verse, much to Bret's 
 and Montgomery's amusement. Dick sought to attract Miss 
 Leslie's attention, and passing his arm around Kate's waist to draw 
 her closer, the three whispered together. 
 
 " Now, I want you two to be pals," he said. " Lucy is one of my 
 oldest friends. I knew her when she was so high, and it was I who 
 gave her her first part — wasn't it, Lucy ? " 
 
 "Yes. Don't you remember, Dick, the first night I played 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 139 
 
 Florette in the Brigands ? Oh ! wasn't I in a fright ! And do you 
 remember how you pushed me on the stage from the wings ? " 
 
 Leslie had a way of raising her voice as she spoke until it ended 
 in a laugh and a display of white teeth. Kate thought she had 
 never seen any one look so nice or heard any one speak so sweetly. 
 In fact she liked her better off the stage than on. The others she 
 did not yet recognise. They were still to her figures rr, o ving through 
 an agitated dream. Leslie was the first to awake to life. 
 
 The tendency' of Dick's conversation was to wander ; but after 
 having indulged for ^ome time in the pleasures of retrospection, 
 returning to the subject in point, he said : 
 
 " Well, it's a bit difficult to explain. But, you see, this lady, 
 Mrs. Ede; was not very happy at home, and having a nice voice — 
 you must hear her sing some Angot — and such an ear ! She never 
 heard the waltz but once, and she can give it note for note. Well, 
 to make a long story short, slie thought she'd cut it, and try what 
 she could do with us." 
 
 Covered with confusion, Kate appealed to Dick to say no more. 
 
 "My dear, everybody in the company," he answered, "knows 
 something about it already. Isn't it better they should know the 
 true story than to have them concocting nonsense ? " 
 
 " Besides," said Miss Leslie, " what can a woman do if she's un- 
 happy at home but to leave home 1 " 
 
 The philosophy of this remark was very soothing to Kate's feel- 
 ings, and she murmured : 
 
 "You are all very kind ; but I'm afraid I've been very wicked." 
 
 "Oh my!" said Miss Leslie, laughing, "you mustn't talk like 
 that, you'll put us all. to the blush." 
 
 " I wonder how such theories would suit Beaumont's book ? " said 
 Dick. 
 
 Seeing how little she could understand of the ideas and conversa- 
 tion of her present companions, Kate could not help feeling a little 
 miserable. She was the tame sparrow, born and reared in captivity, 
 who, finding the door of its cage open, had spread its tiny wings and 
 was striving to fly with the swallows. She leaned back, and taking no 
 further part in the conversation, listened vaguely to Dick, who ex- 
 plained how he and Kate had left Hanley without a stitch of clothes, 
 and would have to buy everything in Derby. To be able to talk 
 more at his ease he had begged of Bret to move down a bit, and 
 allow him to get next to LesUe. 
 
 The tenor, conductor, and second low comedian had spread a rug 
 over their knees, and were playing Nap. They shouted, laughed, 
 and sang, when they made or anticipated making points, portions of 
 their evening music. Kate was left, therefore, to herself, and she 
 looked out of the window. 
 
 They were passing through the most beautiful parts of Stafford 
 shire, and she saw, for the first time, the places she had so often 
 read of in her novels. It seemed to her just like the spot where 
 the lady with the oval face used to read Shelley to the hand- 
 
140 A SrUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 some baronet when her husband was away doctoring the country- 
 folk. 
 
 The day was full of mist and sun. Along the edges of the woods 
 the white vapours heaved, half concealing the forms of the grazing 
 kine ; and the light shadows floated on the grass, long and prolonged, 
 even as the memories that were now filling the mind of this senti- 
 mental workwoman. Her heart beat ; and,silent with expectation, 
 she savoured a joy that was ineflable. It seemed to her that she 
 was now on, or almost on, the threshold of a new life— the life of 
 which she had so long dreamed. Her lover was near her, but ah, 
 why were they not walking together, side by side, in those fair 
 grass-grown places, plucking as they went the wet leaves that 
 brushed across their way ? There were birds singing there ; but m 
 her imagination the clinking of needles and the rustling of sUk 
 were mingled with the loud thrilling of the thrushes. Then for- 
 getting the landscape, with a sigh she set to thinking of what they 
 were saying of her at home. 
 
 She knew Mrs. Ede would refuse for a long time to believe ; she 
 would have the whole town searched, and when it was no longer 
 possible to entertain a doubt, she would say tliat Kate's name must 
 not again be mentioned in her presence. Kate asked herself if it 
 would be possible to write and explain. Alas ! What could she 
 say 1 It was terrible to think that the old woman would for ever 
 hate and detest her — her whom she had once loved so dearly. As 
 for her husband, Kate felt she did not care quite so much what he 
 thought of her ; nor, indeed, could she quite imagine what the 
 attitude of his mind would be. In turn slie fancied liim swearing, 
 and cursing, and sending the police after her ; and then he would 
 appear to her as a sullen, morose figure, moviug about the shop, 
 growling occasionally at his mother, and muttering from time to 
 time that he was devUish glad that his wife had gone away. 
 She would have wished him to regret her ; and when she remem- 
 bered the little girls, she felt the tears rise to her eyes. What ex- 
 planation would be given to them ? Would they too learn to hate 
 her ? She thought not ; but still they w^ould have to give over com- 
 ing to the shop — there was no one now to teach them sewing. Her 
 absence would change everything. Mrs. Ede would never be able 
 to get on with Miss Hender, and even if she did, neither of them 
 knew enough of dressmaking to keep the business going. What 
 would happen then ? she asked herself sorrowfully. They would 
 not be able to live upon what they sold in the shop — that was a mere 
 nothing. Poor Ralph's dreams of plate-glass and lamps ! Where 
 were they now 1 Mrs. Ede's thirty pounds a year would barely pay 
 the rent. A vision of destruction and brokers passed before her 
 mind, and she realised for the first time the immense importance of 
 the step she had taken. Not only was her own future hidden in the 
 darkest of gulfs, on whose face she could read no sentence, no word, 
 no letter, but that of those she had left behind was, through her, 
 equally plunged in obscurity. All the miseries she had endured 
 
A MUBIMER'S WIFE. 141 
 
 were forgotten ; she thought only of the kindnesses she had received, 
 \ of the quiet, certain life she might have led, in and out from the 
 Whop to the front kitchen, and up to her workroom. After all, that 
 was her own. Now she had nothing but this man's love. Ah ! if 
 she were to lose that ! With an effort she swept the thought from 
 her mind and cast upon Dick a look of passionate entreaty. 
 
 He immediately responded, and, leaving Miss Leslie, came and 
 sat down by her. The attention was very gratifying, and Kate 
 knew she was blushing with pleasure. Trembling with a mingled 
 sense of fear for the future and love of the present, she laid her 
 hand upon his, and said, 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! tell me that you love me a little bit, and that you 
 won't leave me." 
 
 " Leave you ! why aren't we going away together 1 " 
 
 Leslie smiled at the lovers ; and moving towards the card-players, 
 she placed her arm round Bret's shoulders and examined his hand. 
 Then the three men raised their heads. Dubois, with the cynicism 
 of the ugly little man who has ever had, both in real and fictitious 
 life, to play the part of the disdained lover, giggled, leered, and 
 pointed over his shoulder. Montgomery smiled too, but a close 
 observer would detect in him the yearnings of a young man from 
 whose plain face the falling fruit is ever invisibly lifted. Bret 
 looked round also, but his look was the indifferent stare of him to 
 whom love has come often, and he glanced as idly at the 
 picture as a worn-out gourmet would over the menu of a table 
 d'h&te dinner. 
 
 A moment after all eyes were again fixed on the game, and, un- 
 observed, Dick and Kate talked from their different points of view. 
 She was anxious to hear of his unalterable affection, and she sought 
 in sentimental phrases to explain how definitely her life was bound 
 up in his. He, however, was too deeply interested in thinking of 
 how they were going to manage when they got to Derby, to foUow 
 exactly the thread of her argument. There was a very nice lodging 
 where he might take her, but he was puzzled to imagine bow he 
 would account for their want of luggage to the landlady. Inter- 
 rupting her suddenly he said, 
 
 " I can give you twenty pounds to fit yourself out. Do you 
 think you could manage with that ? " 
 
 "Manage with twenty pounds! Of course I could, on half 
 that ; you forget I can make my own dresses." 
 
 " Yes, but that'd take time, and I'd like you to look a bit neat, 
 and you forget you have to buy everything ; a trunk alone will cost 
 you three pounds." 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm putting you to a lot of expense, dear." 
 
 "Not more than you are worth. You don't know what a 
 pleasant time we shall have travellin' about ; it is so tiresome 
 bein' always alone. There's no society in these country towns, but 
 I sha'n't want society now." 
 
 " And do you think that you won't get tired of me 1 Will you 
 
1)2 A MUMMEK'S WIFE 
 
 never care again for any of these fine ladies ? " asked Kate, turning 
 her large voluptuous brown eyes on to Dick until they drew his lips 
 down to hers. The kiss was delicious, and the fear of being seen 
 by the others, who were all wrangling for the deal, rendered it un- 
 utterably thrilling. 
 
 In the tunnels which they passed tlirough the temptation to 
 repeat the experiment was irresistible, but owing to Dubois's 
 attempt to light matches ib ended in failure. Dick bumped his 
 head severely against the woodwork of the carriage ; Kate felt she 
 hated the little comedian, and before she recovered her temper the 
 train began to slacken speed and there were frequent calls from the 
 windows of the different compartments for Dick. 
 
 " Is the railway company going to stand us treat this journey ? " 
 shouted Mortimer. 
 
 " Yes," replied Dick, putting his head out, " seven the last time 
 and seven this ; we should have more than a couple of quid.'' 
 
 When the train stopped and a voice was heard crying, "All 
 tickets here ! '' he said to Dubois, Bret, and Montgomery, " Now 
 then, you fellows, cut off ; get Mortimer and a few of the chorus- 
 men to join you ; we are seven short." 
 
 As they ran oflf he continued to Miss Leslie, " I hope Hayes won't 
 bungle it ; he's got the tickets to-day." 
 
 " You shouldn't have let him take them ; you know he's always 
 more or less drunk, and may answer forty-two." 
 
 ' ' I can't help it if he does ; I had something else to look after at 
 Hanley." 
 
 "Tickets ! " said the guard. 
 
 " Our acting manager has them ; he's in the end carriage." 
 
 "You know I don't want anything said about it ; Hayes and I 
 are old pals ; but it's a damned nuisance to have an acting manager 
 who's always boozed. I have to look after everythin', even to 
 making up the returns. But 1 must have a look and see how he's 
 gettin' on with the guard," said Dick jumping up and putting his 
 liead out of the window. 
 
 After a moment or two he withdrew it and said hastily, " By 
 Jove ! there's a row on. I must go and see what's up. I bet that 
 that confounded fool Hayes has gone and done somethin'." 
 
 In a minute he had opened the carriage-door and was hurrying 
 down the platform. 
 
 " Oh, what is the matter ? do tell me,'' said Kate to Miss Leslie. 
 " I hope he won't get into any trouble." 
 
 " It's nothing at all. We never, you know, take the full number 
 of tickets, for it is impossible for the guard to count us all ; and 
 besides, there are some members who always run down the plat- 
 form ; and in that way we save a good deal of coin, which is spent 
 in drinks all. round." 
 
 Kate felt for the moment like one who had been suddenly struck 
 on the head ; and in looking at Miss Leslie she could not conquer 
 an invincible feeling of repulsion which crept over her. Since she 
 
A MUMMEB'S WIFE. 143 
 
 nad been in the train all her sensibilities had been continually 
 uioqked. The careless matter-of-fact way with which Leslie had 
 Dut her arm round Bret's shoulders had forced Kate to recognise 
 n^ore vividly than she would otherwise have done the truth of her 
 own shame, and made her on more than one occasion withdraw her 
 hkai from Dick's ; and the levity of the conversation, although 
 only half understood, had both confused and frightened her. Had 
 it not been for the absolute presence of her lover, she would have 
 often bitterly regretted her fljght from home, and now the affair of 
 the tickets, coming after a day filled with complex and exhausting 
 emotions, conjured up in Kate's imaginative brain visions of thieves 
 and bands of thieves. She was beginning to cry when Miss Leslie 
 said, "You know, dear, there's no cheating in it. The company 
 provides us with a carriage, and it is all the same to them if we 
 travel five-and-thiity or forty-two." 
 
Ui 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The rest of the journey was accomplished monotonously. When 
 Hayes' drunkenness had been commented on, and many anecdotes 
 told concerning it, the conversation wandered into a discussion, in 
 the course of which mention was made of actors, singers, theatres, 
 prices of admission, " make-ups," stage management, and musii). 
 Montgomery treated little Dubois with scorn when he suggested 
 that there never was an opera like Les Cloches. Leslie and Bret 
 were of opinion that it had never been well sung in London ; and 
 Dick explained how he would have made all the girls walk in pro- 
 cession if htr had had the mounting of the piece in the first instance. 
 The principal towns in England were likewise alluded to. Shef- 
 field was remarkable for the fact that Beaumont had not been able 
 to come on on the first night of the pantomime, owing to the pre- 
 sent of a case of "fizz" and an unpleasant letter she had received 
 the same evening ; and Mortimer, who was playing a demon, had 
 to keep gagging away until they got a chorus-girl on in her place. 
 As for Birmingham, why it was difficult not to die with laughing, 
 for was it not there that Ashton, Leslie's understudy, had sung the 
 tenor's music instead of her own in the first act of the Cloches ; and 
 poor so-and-so, who was playing the Grenicheux, how he did look 
 when he heard his B fiat go off ! ' 
 
 " Flat," murmured Montgomery sorrowfully, " isn't the word. I 
 assure you it loosened every tooth in my head. I broke my stick 
 trying to stop her, but it was no b — good." 
 
 Then explanations of how the different pieces had been produced 
 in Paris were volunteered, and the talents of the different com- 
 posers were passionately discussed ; and when Dubois, who Kate 
 began to perceive was the company's laughing-stock, declared that 
 he thought Offenbach too polkaic, all held their sides and roared. 
 
 Kate, who did not understand the allusions, nor even the drift of 
 the conversation, could scarcely help looking bewildered; or from 
 time to time timidly putting her hand out to Dick, as if she was 
 afuaid he was going to escape from her. She was very glad when 
 the train rolled into Derby. 
 
 " How are you. Bill ?" said Dick, and addressing a red, pimply- 
 faced man in a round hat. " Do you think we shall do good busi- 
 ness ? Have you got good places for your posters ? " 
 
\ A MUMMER'S WIFE. 14R 
 
 \ " Spiffing," answered the man, as he saluted Miss Leslie. " But 
 I couldn't get you the rooms. They are let ; and, between our- 
 selves, you'll 'ave a difficulty in finding what you want. This is 
 omtle-s^ow week, you must remember. You'd better come on at 
 once with me. I know an hotel that isn't bad, and you can have 
 firkt choice — Beaumont's old rooms ; but you must come at 
 onfe." 
 
 Kate was glad to see that Mr. Bill Williams, the agent in advance, 
 did not remember her. She, however, recognised him at once as the 
 man who had sent Dick to her house. 
 
 " Cattle-show week ! All the rooms in the town let ! " cried 
 Miss Leslie, who had overheard part of Mr. Williams's whisperings. 
 " Oh dear, I do hope that my rooms aren't let. I hate going to an 
 hotel. Let me out ; I must see about them at once. Here, Frank, 
 take hold of tliis bag." 
 
 " There's no use being in such a hurry ; if the rooms are let they 
 are let. What's the name of the hotel you were sBeaking of, 
 Wmiams?" 
 
 " I forget the name, but if you don't find lodgings, I'll leave you 
 the address at the theatre," said the agent in advance, winking at 
 Dick. ' 
 
 "You're too. damned clever, Williams ; you'll be making some- 
 body's fortune one of these days." 
 
 Eate had some difficulty in keeping close to Dick, for the 
 moment he stepped out on the platform he was surrounded. The 
 baggage-man had a quantity of questions to ask him, and Hayes was 
 desirous of re-explaining how the ticket-collector had happened to 
 misunderstand him. Pulling his long whiskers, the acting-manager 
 walked about murmuring, " Stupid fool ! stupid darned fool ! " 
 There were, besides, some twenty young women struggling to get a 
 word with the popular fat man. With their little hands laid on his 
 arms they talked pleadingly. 
 
 " Yes, dear ; that's it," he answered kindly ; " I'll see to that to- 
 morrow. I'll try not to put you in Miss Crawford's dressing-room, 
 since you don't agree." 
 
 " And, Mr. Lennox, you will see that I'm not shoved into the 
 back row by Miss Dacre, won't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear ; yes, dear ; I'll see to that too ; but I must be off 
 now ; and you'd better see after lodgings, I hear that they are very 
 scarce. If you aren't able to get any come up to the Hen and 
 Chickens, I hear they have rooms to let there," said Dick, whose 
 good-nature forced him to help every lame dog over every stile. 
 
 " Poor little girls ! " he murmured to Williams as they got into 
 a cab, " they only have twenty-five bob a week ; one can't see them 
 robbed by landladies who can let their rooms three times over. " 
 
 " Just as you like," said Williams, " but you'll have the hotel fuU 
 of them." 
 
 Kate longed at that moment to lean her face against Dick's and 
 kiss him. Love and gratitude struggled for mastery in her heart, 
 
140 A MUMMER'S "WIFE, 
 
 [for she now knew that she could trust him, that he would not desert 
 ' her and leave her to die of want in the street. 
 
 As they drove through the town Dick called attention to the ani- 
 mated appearance of the crowds, inferring thereby an excellent 
 week. WUliams explained the advantages of the corners he had 
 chosen, and he pointed to his posters with the air of a painter walk- 
 ing through a gallery with visitors. 
 
 At last the cab stopped at the hotel, or rather before the arch- 
 way of a stone passage some four or five yards wide. 
 
 " There's no hotel here 1 " 
 
 " Oh, yes, there is, and a very nice hotel, too ; the entrance is a 
 little way up the passage. " 
 
 It was an old-fashioned place — probably it had been a fashionable 
 resort for sporting squires of the beginning of the century. The 
 hall was wainscotted in yellow painted wood ; on the right-hand 
 side there was a large brown press, with glass doors, surmounted 
 by a pair of buffalo horns ; on the opposite wall hung a barometer; 
 and the wide, slowly sloping staircase, with its low thick banisters, 
 ascended in front of the street door. The apartments were, how- 
 ever, not furnished with archseological correctness. A wallpaper of 
 an antique design contrasted with a modern tablecloth, and the 
 sombre red curtains were ill suited to the plate-glass which had re- 
 placed the narrow windows of old time. Dick did not like the dust 
 nor the tarnish, but there being no other bed and sitting-room 
 available, a bargain was soon struck, and the proprietor, after hop- 
 ing that his guests would be comfortable, informed them that the 
 rule of his house was that the street door was barred and locked at 
 eleven o'clock, and would be re-opened for no one. He was a quiet 
 man who kept an orderly house, and if people could not manage to 
 be in before midnight he did not care for their custom. Dick, 
 after having grumbled a bit, remembered that the pubs closed at 
 eleven, and as he did not know any one in the town there would be 
 no temptation to stay out. Williams, who had on convenient 
 occasions been attentively examining Kate, said that he was going 
 down to the theatre, and asked if he should have the luggage sent 
 up. This was decidedly an inconvenient question, and as an ex- 
 planation was impossible before the hotel-keeper, Dick was obliged 
 to wish Kate good-bye for the present, and accompany WiUiams 
 down to the theatre. 
 
 ' When she found herself alone, she took off her bonnet mechani- 
 cally, threw it on the table, and Sat down in an armchair by the 
 window. Without an effort her thoughts reverted to those at 
 home. Whatever doubt there might have been at first, they now 
 knew that she had left them— and for ever. The last three words 
 cost her a sigh, but she was forced to admit them. Uncertainty 
 there could be none now in Ralph's and his mother's mind but that 
 she had gone off with Mr. Lennox. Yes, she had eloped ; there 
 could be no question about the fact. She had done what she had so 
 often read of in novels, but somehow it did not seem at all the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 147 
 
 same thing. This was a startling discovery to make, and Kate tried 
 to think how in her case the ideal did not correspond with the 
 reality. Visions of slim lords, and clinging Lady Clares, and words 
 of ijnalterable affection, whispered whilst postillions cracked their 
 whips in sonorous mountain-passes, filled her mind ; but around 
 her she only saw a damp, faded room, with stiff mahogany furni- 
 ture, and she heard only the noisy voices of chorus-girls squabbling 
 in the passages. The world is for ever out of tune with our desires, 
 and although her present surroundings were by many times hand- 
 somer than those she had left, the sum of inward and outward con- 
 tradictions remained as evenly balanced as ever. The hazy dream 
 she had dreamed of love and elopement had not been accomplished, 
 and the brutality of every proof of this wounded her sensibilities. 
 
 But of the secret of her disappointment she was nearly uncon- 
 scious ; and rousing herself from the torpor into which she had 
 fallen, she hoped Dick would not stop long away. It was so tiresome 
 waiting. Soon, however, Miss Leslie came running upstairs. 
 
 " Dinner has been ordered for five o'clock, and we have made up 
 a party of four — ^you, Dick, myself, and Frank." 
 
 " And what time is it now ? " 
 
 " About four. Don't you think you'll be able to hold out till 
 then?" 
 
 " Oh, dear me, yes ; I'm^not very hungry." 
 
 " And anything you want for to-night I'll lend you." 
 
 " Thanks, it is awfully kind of you. Would you like to come 
 out for a walk — this room is so dismal." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 K^te wondered why Miss Leslie was so kind to her, and a little 
 pang of jealousy entered her heart when she thought that it might 
 be for Dick's sake. Annoyed by this idea, she watched them during 
 dinner, and was delighted to see that Mr. Frank Bret occupied the 
 prima donna's entire attention. She spoke, it is true, very fami- 
 liarly with Dick, but for the matter of that so did every one in the 
 company. Even the chorus-girls ventured occasionally to address 
 him by his Christian name. Continually he was plied with all sorts 
 and kinds of questions concerning matters theatrical. Montgomery 
 wanted to know how long it would take, dating from the first re- 
 hearsal, to produce a three-act opera. Beaumont could not re- 
 member if a certain burlesque actress had made the acquaintance of 
 her " mug '' in '80 or '81. Leslie and Bret, casting languishing 
 glances at each other, discussed eagerly the production of the voice 
 in singing. 
 
 Soon after dinner the party dispersed. Some of the men went 
 off to the pubs, some of the ladies thought they would go round 
 and see how the other members of the company were getting on. 
 Dick and Kate went out to walk. As they passed along the streets 
 they deplored that it was Sunday, and that they would not be able 
 to supply themselves with even a brush and comb until the next 
 morning. They would have to buy every tiling. Stopping under a 
 
us A MTTJIMBE'S WIFE. 
 
 lamp-post he gave her five-and-twenty pounds and told her to pa] 
 with Leslie, that she was the best of tiie lot. It seemed to her 
 quite a little fortune, and as Dick had to go to London next morn- 
 ing, she sent up word to Miss Leslie to ask if she would come shop- 
 ping with her. The idea of losing her lover so soon frightened her, 
 and had it not been for the distraction that the buying of clothes 
 afforded her the week she spent in Derby would have been intoler- 
 able. Shedidnotknowwhatshewouldhavedone. Leslie was, itistrue, 
 full of laughter and good-nature. She often came to sit with Kate, 
 and on more than one occasion went out to walk with her. But 
 there were long hours which she was forced to pass alone in the 
 gloom ofj the hotel sitting-room, and as she sat making herself a 
 strong travelling dress, oppressed and trembling with thoughts, she 
 was often forced to lay down her work. Nothing, she was forced 
 to admit, had turned out as she had expected. Even her own 
 power of loving appeared feeble in comparison to the wealth of af- 
 fection she had imagined herself lavishing upon him. Something 
 seemed to sejjarate them ; even when she lay back and he held her 
 in his arms, she was not as near to him as she had dreamed of being. 
 For in an inexplicable and irritating way the past was mixed up 
 with and dominated the present. Try as she would she found it 
 impossible to wipe out of her mind the house in Hanley. It rose 
 before her, a dark background with touches of clear colour, vivid 
 as a picture by Teniers. She saw the little girls working by the 
 luminous window with the muslin curtains and the hanging pot of 
 greenstuflf. She saw the stiff-backed woman moving about witli 
 plates and dishes in her hands, and the invalid wheezing on the 
 little red calico sofa. In a word, the past was a tangible reality, 
 the preiSnt to her was still as vague as a dream. She could not, do 
 what she would, realise the fact that she had left for ever her quiet 
 home in the Potteries, and was travelling about the country with a 
 company of strolling actors. Since she was a child every hour had 
 pointed to an accustomed duty ; her life had gone round with the 
 methodical monotony of a clock. But suddenly the instrument had 
 been allowed to run down ; now the divisions of the day, which she 
 had always considered immutable as the rising and setting of the 
 sun, remained unmarked. She got up when she pleased ; even 
 dined when she liked. This relaxatiop of discipline prolonged time 
 to an almost infinite extent, and in her unoccupied brain every 
 thought grew distorted, and during the three horrible days that her 
 lover remained away she experienced sensations of trembling and 
 giddiness. The spider that had spun itself from the ceiling did 
 not seem suspended in life by a less visible thread than herself. 
 Supposing Dick were never to return. The thought was appaUing, 
 and on more than one occasion she fell down on her knees to pray 
 to be preserved from such terrible misfortune. 
 
 But her hours of solitude were not the worst she had to bear. 
 Impelled by curiosity t» hear all the details of the elopement, and 
 urged by an ever-present desire to say unpleasant things. Miss 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFB. 149 
 
 Jeaumont paid Kate many visits. Sitting with her thick legs 
 rossed, she insinuated all she dared. A direct statement she did 
 lOt venture upon, but by the aid of a smile and an indirect allusion 
 J was easy to suggest that love in an actor's heart is brief. As long 
 s Miss Beaumont was present Kate repressed her feelings, but 
 rhen she found herself alone tears flowed down her cheeks, and 
 obs echoed through the dusty sitting-room. 
 
 It was in one of these trances of emotion that Dick found her 
 rhen he returned. But she was easily consoled, and that night she 
 ccompanicd him to the theatre. The piece played was Les Cloches 
 e Comeville, and, rocked to rest, she listened for three hours to 
 he melody of the music. Miss Beaumont as Germaine disappointed 
 ler, and she could not understand how it was that the Marquis was 
 lot in love with Serpolette. But the reality that most grossly 
 ontradicted her idea was that Dick should be playing the part of 
 he Bailie ; and when she saw her hero fall down in Qie middle of 
 he stage and heard everybody laugh at him, she felt both ashamed 
 nd insulted. The romantic character of her mind asserted itself, 
 nd, against her will, forced her to admire and invest with her 
 ympathies the purple-cloaked Marquis. Then her thoughts turned 
 considering if she would be able to act as did any one of the 
 idies on the stage. It did not seem to her very difficult. Had 
 lot Dick told her that, with a little teaching, she would be able to 
 ing as well as Beaumont ? The sad expression that her face wore 
 isappeared, and she grew impatient for the piece to finish so that 
 he might speak to Dick about taking lessons. They were now in 
 he third act, and the moment the curtain was rung down she 
 urried away, asking as she went the way to the stage-door. It 
 ras by no means easy to find. She lost herself once or twice in the 
 ack streets, and when she did apply at the right place, the hall- 
 eeper for a long time refused her admittance. 
 
 "Do you belong to the company 2 " 
 
 After a moment's hesitation Kate replied that she did not ; but 
 [lat moment's hesitation was sufficient for the porter, and he at 
 nee said, "Pass on, you'U find Mr. Lennox on the stage." 
 
 Timidly she walked up a narrow passage filled with men talking 
 b the top of their voices, and from thence made her way into the 
 •ings. There she was told that Mr. Lennox was up in his room, 
 ut would be down shortly. 
 
 For a moment Kate could not realise where she was, so different 
 ■as the stage now to what it had been whenever she had seen it 
 efore. The present aspect was an entirely new one. 
 
 It was now dark like a cellar, and, in the flaring light that 
 airted from an iron gas-pipe, the stage-carpenter carried rocking 
 ieces of scenery to and fro. The auditorium was a round blank 
 verclouded in a deep twilight, through which Kate saw the long 
 5rm of a grey cat moving slowly round the edge of the upper 
 oxes. 
 
 Getting into a comer so as to be out of the way of the people 
 
150 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 who were walking up and down the stage, and maturing her plans 
 for the cultivation of her voice, she waited patiently for her lover 
 to finish dressing. This he took some time to do, and when he did at 
 length come downstairs, he was of course surrounded ; everybody as 
 usual wanted to speak to him, but, gallantly offering her his arm, 
 and bending his head, he asked, in a whisper, how she liked the 
 piece, and insisted on hearing what she thought of this and thajiii 
 part before he replied to any one of the crowd of friends who in*' 
 turn strove to attract his attention. This was very flattering, but 
 she was nevertheless obliged to relinquish her plan of explaining to 
 him there and then her desire of learning singing. He could not 
 keep his mind fixed on what she was saying. Mortimer was telliog 
 a story at which everybody was screaming, and just at her elbow 
 Dubois and Montgomery were engaged in a violent argument re- 
 garding the use of consecutive fifths. But besides these distractions 
 there was a tall thin man who kept nudging away the whole while at 
 Dick's elbow, begging of him to come over to his place, and saying that 
 he would give him as good a glass of whisky as he had ever tasted. 
 Who this stranger was nobody knew. Dick said he had forgotten 
 who the man was, but that he thought he had met him somewhere 
 up in the North. But the mention of liquor rendered Mortimer 
 and Hayes, indifierent to the date of the introduction, and they 
 besought of Dick to come and make a night of it. 
 
 " I have been about, gentlemen : I have been in America and I' 
 have been in France, and I lead a bachelor life. My house is across 
 the way, and if you'll do me the honour to come in and have a glass 
 with me, all I can say is that I shall be very glad. If there is one 
 thing I do enjoy, it is the conversation of intellectual men, and 
 after the performance of to-night I don't see how I can do better 
 than to come to you for it.'' 
 
 Tliis speech produced a visible effect among the group. Mor- 
 timer, who could not think of anything suitable to say, pretended 
 not to have heard. Dubois settled himself straight, and seemed 
 in doubt whether, to prove his intelligence, he had not better 
 produce his lowest note ; Beaumont eyed the stranger sharply, 
 and mentally calculated if he were worth a substantial part of her 
 hotel bill. 
 
 ", But," he continued gallantly, "if I said just now that I was n 
 bachelor, it is, I assure you, not because I dislike the sex. My soli- 
 tary state is my misfortune, not my fault, and if these ladies will 
 accompany you, gentlemen, need I say that I shall be charmed?" 
 
 A murmur of satisfaction greeted these words. The invitation 
 was accepted forthwith, and the whole party followed the tall thin 
 man to his house. It was a small aifair, with a porch and green 
 blinds, such as might be rented by a well-to-do commercial traveller. 
 The furniture was mahogany and leather, and when the sideboard 
 was opened, the acrid odour of tea, and the sickly smells of stale 
 bread and rank butter were diffused through the room ; but these 
 were quickly dominated by the fumes of the malt. A bottle of pcirt 
 
A MUMJVIEK'S WIFE. 151 
 
 was decanted for the ladies. Certainly the host did his best for his 
 company. He helped the dirty maid to fetch the glasses, and he 
 msisted on a piece of cold beef being brought up from the kitchen, 
 ihen everyone made themselves comfortable. Hayes drank hia 
 whisky m silence. Mortimer, as far as he could, monopolised the 
 conversation, and bored everybody by talking of the regeneration of 
 the stage. Montgomery, with his legs over the arm of an easychair, 
 tried to get in a word concerning the refrain of a comic song he had 
 just finished scoring. 
 
 During this part of the evening the ladies looked tired, but 
 they showed signs of coming interest when a reference was made 
 to the morality of the leading English actresses. The tall thin 
 man listened with an expression of anxious interest on his face. 
 He seemed to think that it was of the most vital importance 
 that he should not lose the thread of Dubois' argument. The 
 little man, with his bishop's hat tUted over the back of his head, 
 propounded the most strange opinions, until at last, as if to clinch 
 all he had said previously, he stated emphatically that he did not be- 
 lieve in the virtue of any woman in the world. This brought them 
 all to their feet. Dubois was declared to have insulted the profes- 
 sion. Dick agreed it was damned bad form, and Montgomery, who 
 had a sister-in-law starring in Scotland, turned purple, and refused 
 to be appeased until he was asked to accompany Bret and Leslie in 
 a duet. The thin man (as everybody now called him) said he had 
 never been so much touched in his Ufe, a statement which Beau- 
 mont did her best to justify by.going to the piano and singing three 
 songs one after another. The third was the signal for departure. 
 Montgomery declared that it was quite enough to have to hsten to . 
 Beaumont during business hours, and soon after it was discovered 
 that Hayes had fallen asleep. So, bidding the kindest of farewells 
 to their host, whom they hoped they would see/the following even- 
 ing at the theatre, and upholding drunken Mr. Hayes between the 
 lot of them, they stumbled into the street. 
 
 It was very hard to get him along. Every ten or a dozen yards 
 he would insist on stopping in the middle of the roadway to argue 
 the value and the sincerity of the friendship his comrades bore for 
 him. Mortimer declared that he would stand in a puddle all night 
 if by so doing he might hope to prove to him the depth of his trust- 
 ing heart. Dubois said that to sit with him in the cold September 
 moonlight, and talk of the dear days of the past, would be blisa. 
 Striving to understand, Hayes pulled his long whiskers, and stared 
 at them blankly. But the monotony of this sort of joking soon be- 
 gan to be felt, and the ladies proposed they should walk on in front, 
 and leave the gentlemen to get their friend home as best they could. 
 It was then that Dick remembered that the hotel-keeper had told 
 him that he shut his doors at eleven o'clock, and would open them 
 again for nobody before morning. 
 
 " What are we to do 1 " asked Leslie. " It is very cold." 
 
 "Well ring him up," answered Dubois. 
 
iri2 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " But if he doesn't answer," suggested Bret, 
 
 "I'll jolly soon make him answer," said Dick. "Now then, 
 Hayes, wake up, old man, and push along." 
 
 ' ' Pou — sh— al— ong ! How can — ^you— talk to me like that ? Yer 
 — yer — shunting me — me — for one of those other fellows." 
 
 ' ' We'll talk about that in the morning, old man. Now, Mortimer, 
 you get hold of his other arm, and let's run him along." 
 
 Mr. Hayes struggled, declaring the while he would no longer be- 
 lieve in the world's friendship ; but everybody being now in eameBt, 
 and Montgomery pushing from behind, the last hundred yards were 
 soon got over, and the drunken burden deposited safely against 
 the wall of the passage. 
 
 The sky was quite clear overhead, and at the end of the lateral 
 lines of the houses the moon jutted from behind a row of chim- 
 ney-pots. A stream, of light floated over the flagstones, but the 
 buttress under which Hayes was lying threw a long shadow, 
 Going to the bell, Dick gave it a pull, and the whole party listened 
 to the distant tinkling. Then, after a minute or two of suspense, 
 Mortimer said : 
 
 " That won't do, Dick ; ring again. We shall be here all night." 
 
 Clatter, clatter, clatter, went the bell, and a husky voice, issuing 
 from the dark shadow of t?ie buttress, said : 
 
 " I rang for another whisky, waiter, that's all." 
 
 The effect was most comical and unexpected, and the whole 
 party roared with laughter. Nothing was seen of the drunkaid 
 but his feet, with a bit of white stocking gleaming fiercely in the 
 moonlight. 
 
 Then the bell was rung again and again, and whilst one was pul- 
 ing at the wire, another was hammering away with the knocket. 
 The noise was deafening, but no answei? could be obtained, and the 
 actors consulted in sUence. Some suggested one thing, some an- 
 other. Leslie and Bret proposed that they should seek admittance 
 at another hotel ; Dubois, that they should beg hospitality of the 
 other members of the company ; Montgomery, that they should go 
 back to the theatre. Eventually, Dick's and Mortimer's plan waj 
 declared to be the best ; it was to beat in the door. The hotel- 
 keeper had no right to lock them out, and they had a perfect, right 
 to break into his house. The law on the subject interested them pro- 
 f oundly , and as they searched for a piece of wood to serve as a ram, th( 
 chances they ran of "doing a week" were anxiously debated. How 
 ever, no piece of wood of sufficient size could be found, much to thi 
 relief of the ladies and Dubois, who strongly advised Dick to renouno 
 this door-smashing experiment. 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! pray don't," whispered Kate. " What does it mat 
 ter ; it will be daylight in a few hours." 
 
 "That's all very well, but I tell you he has no right to lock n 
 out ; he's a licensed hotel-keeper. Are you game, Mortimer 1 W' 
 can burst the door in with our shoulders." 
 
 "Game!" said Mortimer, in a nasal note that echoed dowi 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 153 
 
 courtyard, "partridges are in season in September. Here 
 IS, and taking a run he jumped with his full weight against the 
 
 'Out of the way," cried Dick, breaking away from Kate, and 
 •ling his huge frame a little closer to the lock than the comedian 
 I done. 
 
 ["he excitement being now at boiling pitch, the work was begun 
 real earnest, and as they darted in regular succession out of 
 I shadow of the buttress 'across the clear stream of moonlight 
 ving down the flagstones, they appeared like a procession of 
 ires thrown on a cloth by a magic-lantern. Mr. Hayes' white 
 eking served for a line, and bump, bump, they went against 
 I door. Each effort was watched with different degrees of interest 
 the ladies. When little Dubois toddled forward, and sprang 
 h what little impetus his short legs could give him, it was difficult 
 ; to laugh, and when Montgomery's reed-Uke shanks were seen 
 ising, Kate clung to Miss Leslie in fear that he would crush his 
 tl body against the door, but when it came to the turn of any of 
 
 I big ones, the excitement grew intense. Mortimer and Bret were 
 tched eagerly, but most faith was placed in Dick, not only for his 
 later weight, but for his superior and more plucky way of jump- 
 :. Springing from the very middle of the passage he went, his 
 id back and his shoulder forward, like a thunderbolt against the 
 )r. It seemed wonderful that he did not bring down the wall as 
 
 II as the woodwork. The spirit of competition was very great, 
 1 a round of applause rewarded each effort. Mr. Hayes, who 
 cied himself in bed, and that the waiter was calling him at some 
 sarthly hour in the morning, shouted occasionally the most fear- 
 
 of curses from his dark corner. The noise was terrific, and 
 i clapping of hands, shrieks of laughter, and cries of encourage- 
 nt, reverberated through the echoing passage and the silent 
 onlight. 
 
 ^t last Dick's turn came again, and enraged by past failures he, 
 tting forth his whole strength, jumped from- the white stocking 
 h his full weight against the door. It gave way with a crash, 
 1 he was precipitated into the hall. 
 
 ^t that moment the proprietor appeared coming down stairs. He 
 d a candle in his hand, and he looked over the banisters to see 
 at had happened. But everybody made a rush, and picking up 
 ;k, who was not in the least hurt, they struck matches on the wall 
 1 groped their way up to their rooms, heedless of the denuncia- 
 iis of the enraged proprietor. He declared that he was going to 
 I police-station — that he would take an action against them. 
 Che pbor man was in his dressing-gown, and by the light of his 
 kering candle he surveyed his dismantled tlireshold. It was 
 ar that he would have to fasten the place up somehow, and he 
 ked about for the means of doing so, untU he at last caught sight 
 Mr. Hayes' white stocking. As he did so a wfcked light gleamed 
 lus eye, and after a few efforts to awake the drunkard he walked 
 
154 A MUMMER'S WIFE, 
 
 to the gateway and looked up and down the street to see if a poHoe- 
 man were in sight. In real truth he was doubtful as to his rights 
 to look visitors out of their hotel, and did not feel disposed to dis: 
 cuss the question before a magistrate. But what could be. said 
 against him for requesting the removal of a drunken man ! He did 
 not know who he was, nor was he bound to find out. So argued 
 the proprietor of the Hen and Chickens, and Mr. Hayes, still pro- 
 testing he did not want to be called before ten, was dragged off te 
 the station. 
 
 Next morning the hotel-keeper denied knowing anything what- 
 ever about the matter. He had called, it is true, the policematfs 
 attention to the fact that there was a man asleep under the archway, 
 but he did not know that the man was Mr. Hayesj This statement 
 was of course not believed, and vowing that they would never again 
 go within a nnile of his shop, the whole company went to see poof 
 Hayes pulled out before the beak. It was a forty-shilling affair oi 
 the option of a week, and in compensation Dick invited last night's 
 party to dinner at a restaurant. They weren't going to put their 
 money into the pocket of that cad of a hotel-keeper. Hayes was 
 the hero of the hour, and he made everybody roar with laughter at 
 the way in which he related his experiences. But after a time* 
 Dick, who had always an eye to business, drew his chair up to Mor- 
 timer's, and begged of him to try and think of some allusions to the 
 adventures which could be worked into the piece. The question 
 was a serious one, and until it was time to go to the theatre the art 
 of gagging was warmly argued. Dubois held the most Hberal views. 
 He said that after a certain number of nights the author's words 
 should be totally disregarded in favour of topical remarks. Bret, 
 who was slow of wit, maintained that the dignity of a piece could 
 only be maintained by sticking to .the text, and cited examples to 
 support his opinion. It was, however, finally agreed that Mortimer 
 should say, whenever he came on the stage, "Derby isn't a safe 
 place to get drunk in," and that Dubois should reply, "Bather 
 not." 
 
 Owing to these little emendations, the piece went with, a scream, 
 the receipts were over a hundred, and Morton and Cox's Operatic, 
 Company, having done a very satisfactory week's business, assem- 
 bled at the station on Sunday morning bound for Blackpool. 
 
 Kate and Dick got into a compartment with the same people as 
 before, plus a chorus-girl, who, in the hopes of being allowed to siy 
 on the entrance of the duke, " Oh, what a jolly fellow he is 1 " WM 
 making up to Montgomery. Mortimer shouted unintelligible -jokea 
 to Hayes, who always went with the pipe-smokers ; Dick spoke 
 about the possibility of producing some new piece at Liverpool, and 
 the planks of the carriage trembled with criticism and suggestions. 
 Everybody seemed to be in high spirits but Kate. The events oi 
 the last few days had completely bewildered her, and with dizzy 
 and confused thoughts she was carried forward helpless and inert 
 like a leaf in a storm. She could not realise the actuality of the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 155 
 
 '"'^.'J'l'i her ; the people she saw might be phantoms, so impos- 
 e did she find it to force upon herself a consciousness of their 
 itenoe. Things flew past her so rapidly that they did not pro- 
 e upon her any of the sensations of living with which she was 
 uainted. The eflecfc was painful, and it was heavy and obtuse, 
 a as a nightmare. She was weary of the shouting and bawling 
 he actors, of their conversations which she did not understand, 
 
 of the whirling centre of eternal hurry in which they lived, 
 nade her sick to watch them. Dubois, Mortimer, Bret, and the 
 rus-girl were playing Nap. Dick, Leslie, and Montgomery were 
 jmg tunes or fragments of tunes to each other, and talking about 
 BFeets." 
 
 'hen suddenly the conversation changed, and loud grew the 
 entations that no money could be saved this trip in the taking 
 he tickets. Hayes' stupidity was roundly abused, and Dick was 
 lely questioned as to when, in his opinion, it would be safe to 
 on again their little plant. Instead of answering he leant back, 
 . gradually a pleasant smile began to trickle over his broad face, 
 was evidently maturing some plan. "What is it, Dick? Do 
 like a good fellow," was repeated many times, but he refused 
 ;ive any reply farther than that he was going to see what could 
 ione. Tim aroused the curiosity of the company, and it grew 
 mming pitch when the train drew up at a station and Dick began 
 mversation with the guard concerning the length 9f time they 
 lid have at Preston, and where they would find the train that 
 I to take them on to Blackpool. 
 
 'You'll have a quarter of an hour's wait at Preston. You'll 
 ve there at 4.20, at 35 past you'll find the train for Blackpool 
 wn up on the right-hand side of the station." 
 'Thanks very much," replied Dick as he tipped the guard, and 
 Q turning his head towards his friends, he whispered, "'Tis as 
 it as a trivet ; I shall be back in a minute." 
 • Where's he oflf to ? " asked everybody. 
 ' He's ]U8t gone into the telegraph office," said Montgomery who 
 
 stationed at the window. 
 
 L. moment after Dick was seen running up the platform. His fat 
 aiders waggled, and his big hat gave him the appearance of an 
 erican. As he passed each compartment of their carriage he 
 spered something in at the window. , 
 
 What can he be saying 1 What can he be arranging ? " asked 
 IS Leslie. 
 
 ' I don't care how he arranges it as long as I get a drink on the 
 ip at Preston," said Mortimer. 
 ' That's the main point," replied Dubois. 
 
 ' Well, Dick, what is it ? " exclaimed everybody, as the big man 
 down beside Kate. 
 
 The moment the train arrives at Preston we must all make a 
 1 for the refreshment-rooms and ask for Mr. Simpson's lunch. 
 Who's Mr. Simpson ? What lunch ? Oh, do tell us ! What a 
 
156 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 mysterious fellow you are," were the exclamations reiterated all the 
 way along the route. But the only answer they received was, 
 " Now what does it matter who Mr. Simpson is ? I tell you he'a 
 going to stand us treat at Preston ; isn't that enough for you ! " 
 Even Kate could got nothing more from her lover. He talked to 
 her about Blackpool, of what a nice place it was, and of how she 
 would enjoy the sea. To have him so devoted to her was delight- 
 ful, and she wished they would leave off bothering hiin about Mr. 
 Simpson, and was glad when they arrived at Preston, if only that 
 the incessant questioning might cease. 
 
 " Come on, now," said Dick, "eat and drink all you can, and for 
 the life of you don't ask who Mr. Simpson is, but only for hia 
 lunch." 
 
 This order was at once acted on, and actors, actresses, choruB. 
 girls and men, conductor, prompter, manager, and baggage-maB 
 rushed like a school towards the glass doors of the refreshment- 
 room. There they found a handsome collation laid out for forty 
 people. 
 
 •' Where's Mr. Simpson's lunch ? '' shouted Dick. 
 
 " Here, sir, here ; all is ready," replied two obliging waiters. 
 
 "Where's Mr. Simpson's lunch?" echoed Dubois and Mont- 
 gomery. 
 
 " This way, sir ; what will you take, sir ? Cold beef, cliioken and 
 ham, or a little soup ?" asked half-a-dozen waiters. 
 
 The ladies were at first shy of helping themselves and hung hack, 
 a little, but Dick drove them on, and, the fiirst step taken, they ate 
 ravenously of everything. But Kate, refusing all offers of chicken, 
 ham, and cold beef, clung to Dick timidly. 
 
 " But is this paid for ? " she whispered to him. 
 
 " Of course it is. 'Tis Mr. Simpson's lunch. Take care of what 
 you are sayin'. Tuck into this plate of chicken ; will you have a bit 
 of tongue with it ? " 
 
 Not having the courage to refuse, Kate complied in sUenee, and 
 Dick crammed her pockets with cakes. But soon the waiters began 
 to wonder at the absence of Mr. Simpson, and had already com- 
 menced their inquiries. 
 
 Approaching Mortimer, the head waiter asked that gentleman if. 
 Mr. Simpson was in the room. 
 
 "He's just slipped round to the bookstall to get a Sunday paper, 
 He'll be back in a minute, and if you'll get me another bit of chicken 
 in the meantime I shall feel obliged." 
 
 In iive minutes more the table was cleared, and everybody made 
 a movement to retire, and it was then that the refreshment-room 
 people exhibited a frantic interest in the person of Mr. Simpson, 
 One waiter begged of Dick to describe the gentleman to him, another 
 besought of Dubois to say at what end of the table Mr. Simpson had 
 had his lunch. In turn they appealed to the ladies and to the gen- 
 tlemen, but were always met with the same answers. "Just saw 
 him a minute ago, going up the station ; if you run after him you're 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIPE. 157 
 
 sure to catch him." "Mr. Simpson? why he was liere a minute 
 ago ; 1 think he was speaking about sending a telegram ; perhaps 
 he's up in the office," &c. , &c. The bell then rang, and, like a herd 
 in motion, the whole company crowded to the train. The guard 
 shouted, the panic-stricken waiters tumbled over the luggage, and 
 running from carriage to carriage, begged to be informed as to Mr 
 Simpson's whereabouts. 
 
 " He's in the end carriage, I tell you, back there, just at the other 
 end of the train." 
 
 The seedy black coats were then seen hurrying down the flags, 
 but only to return in a minute, breathless, for further information. 
 But this could not last for ever, and the guard blew his whistle, the 
 actors began gagging. And, oh ! the singing, the whistling, the 
 cheers of the mummers as the train rolled away into the country, 
 now all agleam with the sunset ! Tattoos were beaten with sticks 
 against the woodwork of each compartment. Dick, with his body 
 half out of the window, and his curls blowing in the wind, yelled at 
 Hayes. Montgomery disputed with Dubois for possession of the 
 other window, and three chorus-girls giggled and munched stolen 
 cakes, and tried- to get into conversation with Kate. But a shame 
 darker than any she had yet known lay heavily upon her. Love 
 had compensated her for virtue ; but what could make amends to. 
 her for her loss of honesty ? She could break a moral law with less 
 suffering than might be expected from her bringing up, but the 
 sentiment the most characteristic, and naturally so, of the middle 
 classes, is a respect for the property of others ; and she had eaten 
 of stolen bread. Oppressed and sickened by this idea, she shrank 
 back in her corner, and filled with a sordid loathing of herself, she 
 longed, as she might to trample on a disgustful thing, to tear this 
 vile page from her memory. When Dick sat down by her she 
 moved instinctively away from him, for even he for the moment, 
 like all else she could feel and see, was horrifying and revolting. 
 
 At Blackpool, Mr. Williams's pimply face was the first thing that 
 greeted them. There was the usual crowd of landladies who pre- 
 sented their cards and extolled the comfort and cleanliness of their 
 rooms. One of these women was introduced, and specially recom- 
 mended by Mr. Williams. He declared that her place was a little 
 paradise, and an hour later, still plunged in black regret, Kate sat 
 sipping her tea in a rose-coloured room. 
 
158 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 That night in bed Kate cried hysterically, and Dick did not sucoew 
 in comforting her until he promised to send a cheque and settle witl 
 the refreshment-room people at once. This made her feel happier 
 and in a few days, with the facility of a person of weak nature, shi 
 began to fall into the ways, and apparently to habituate herself b 
 the manners and morals, of her new life. And for the time beint 
 she was conscious of no special pangs of conscience, of nothing 
 beyond the mechanical conviction that she was a very wicked woman 
 and deserved to be punished. When Sunday came round (thej 
 were staying for a fortnight at Blackpool) she went to church, bul 
 the words of God inspired her with only a sense of voluptuoui 
 sorrow, which was intensified by the knowledge that for her nc 
 repentance was possible. The very idea terriiied her, and aa if tc 
 hide herself from it she wrapped herself more determinedly thai 
 ever in the sullen and sensual enjoyment of the time. 
 
 The morning hours were especially delightful. Immediately or 
 getting out of bed she went into the sitting-room to see after Dick*! 
 breakfast. It was laid out on a round table, the one white tint in 
 the rose twilight of the half -drawn blinds. Masses of Virginia 
 creeper, now weary of the summer and ready to fall with the fiiBt 
 October winds, grew into the room, and the two armchairs drawn up 
 by the quietly burning fire seemed, like all the rest, to inspire indo- 
 lence. Kate lingered settling and dusting little rickety ornament 
 tempted at once by the freshness of her dressing-gown and the 
 soothing warmth of the room. It penetrated her with sensations of 
 happiness too acute to be durable, and as they mounted to her head 
 in a sort of efiervescent reverie, she would walk forwards to the 
 folding doors to talk to Dick of — it did not matter what — it was for 
 the mere sound of his voice that she came ; and, in default of any- 
 thing ibetter to say, she would upbraid him for his laziness. The 
 room, full of the intimacy of their life, enchanted her, and half in 
 shame, half in delight, she would afiect to arrange the pillows while 
 he buttoned his collar. When this was accomplished she led him 
 triunaphantly to the breakfast table, and with one arm resfcmg 
 on his knees, watched the wliite shapes of the eggs seen through 
 the bubbling water. This was the great business of the morning. 
 He would pay twopence a piece to have fresh eggs, and was most 
 particular that they should be boiled for three minutes and not one 
 
A MUMMER'S WrPB. 169 
 
 2ond more. The landlady brought up the beefsteak and the hot 
 Ik for the coffee, and if any friend came in orders were sent down 
 3tantly for more food. Such extravagante could not fail to astonish 
 ite, accustomed as she had been from her earliest years to a strict 
 d austere mode of life. Frequently she begged of Dick to be more 
 onomical, but he, who had always lived Bohemian-like on money 
 sily gained, paid very little attention to what she said beyond 
 vising her to eat more steak and put colour into her cheeks. And 
 ce the ice of habit broken through, she likewise began to abandon 
 rself thoroughly to the pleasures of these rich warm breakfasts, 
 d to look forward to the idle hours of digestion which followed, 
 d the heavy happy dreams that could then be indulged in. Before 
 e tea-things were removed Dick opened the morning paper, and 
 3m time to time read aloud scraps of whatever news he thought 
 teresting. These generally concerned the latest pieces produced 
 London ; and, as if ignorant of the fact that she knew notliing of 
 lathe was speaking of, explained to her his views on the subject — 
 liy such and such plays would and others would not do for the 
 untry. Eate, although she only understood half of what was told 
 !r, listened with riveted attention ; and the flattery of being 
 ken into his confidence was a soft and fluttering joy. In these 
 oments all fear that he would one day desert her died away 
 M an ugly wind ; and, with the noise of the town drumming 
 mly in the distance, they abandoned themselves to the pleas- 
 •e of thinking of each other. Dick congratulated himiself on 
 e choice he had made, and assured himself that he would 
 sver know again the ennui of living alone. She was one of 
 e prettiest women you could see anywhere, and luckily not 
 o exacting. In fact she hadn't a fault if it weren't that she 
 as. a bit cold, and he couldn't understand how it was ; women 
 ere not generally cold with him. The question interested him 
 •ofoundly, and as he considered it his glance wandered from the 
 ose blue masses of hair to the white satin shoe which she held to 
 e red blaze. 
 
 Then the vague expression of Kate's face disappeared, and she 
 owned slightly. It annoyed her to perceive that he thought of 
 jr so. She dreamed of love as independent of the realities 
 life. She desired an affection that would be ever present, 
 at would exclude all other things — that would be an atmosphere, 
 it were, to the heart that would soften and harmonize it, even as 
 mist does a landscape. 
 
 These meditations generally ended by Kate going to sit on 
 ick's knees. Laying her head upon his shoulder she usually 
 urmured : 
 
 •'Dick, do you think you will always love me as you do now ?" 
 " I'm sure of it, dear." 
 
 " It seems to me if one really loves once one must love always, 
 uti don't know how I can talk to you like that, for how can you 
 ispect me ? I have been so very wicked." 
 
160 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " What nonsense, Kate, how can you talk like that ? I wouldnl 
 respect you if you went on living with a man you didn't care about," 
 
 " Well, I liked hitn well enough till you came, dear, but I couldn't 
 then — it wasn't all my fault ; but if you should cease to care for me 
 I think I should die. But you won't ; tell me that you won't, dear 
 Dick?" 
 
 On the words "dear Dick," Kate would press her face against his 
 neck, and clasping him more tightly to her, sob from excess of 
 emotion. Then Dick comforted her, held her hands in his, drew 
 her down towards him for a kiss, and in that kiss it seemed to her 
 that her happiness must last for ever, so completely did she belong 
 to her lover, so defended and so concealed were they from the grey 
 bitterness of the outer world in the sweet sentiment of their rose-, 
 coloured room. 
 
 One morning Montgomery came to see them. Kate jumped ofl 
 Dick's knee, and settling her skirts with tlie pretty movement of a 
 surprised woman, threw herself into a chair on the opposite side of 
 the fireplace. The musician had come to speak about his opera, 
 especially the opening chorus, about which he could not make up 
 his mind. 
 
 " My boy,'' said Dick, " don't be afraid of making it too long. 
 There's nothing like having a good strong number to begin with— 
 something with grip in it, you know." 
 
 Montgomery looked vaguely into space ; he was obviously not 
 listening, but was trying to follow out some musical scheme that was 
 running in his head. After a long silence, he said : m 
 
 " What I can't make up my mind about is whether I ought p 
 concert that first number or have it sung in unison. Now listed. 
 The scene is the wedding festivities of Prince Florimel, who is about 
 to wed Eva, the daughter of the Duke of Perhapsburg — devilish 
 good name you know. Well then, the flower-girls come on first, 
 scattering flowers ; they proceed two by two and arrange themselves 
 in line on both sides of the stage. They are followed by trumpeters 
 and a, herald, then come the ladies-in-waiting, the pages, the couj;- 
 tiers, and the palace servants. Very well ; the first four lines, -you 
 know, 'Hail ! hail ! the festive day' — that, of course, is sung by 
 the sopranos." 
 
 " You surely don't want to concert that, do you 1 " interrupted 
 Dick. I 
 
 " Of course not ; you must think me an ignoramus. The first 
 four lines are sung naturally in unison ; then there is a repeat, in 
 which the tenors and basses are singing against the women's voices, 
 By that time the stage will be full. Well then, what I am thinking 
 of doing is, when I get to the second part you know — ' May the 
 stars much pleasure send you, may romance and love attend you,' 
 to repeat, ' May the Stars.' " 
 
 " Oh, I see what you mean," said Dick, who began to grow inter- 
 ested. "You'll give 'May the sUrs' first to the sopranos, and 
 then repeat with the tenors and basses ? " 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 161 
 
 "That's it. I'll show you," replied Montgomery, rushing to the 
 mo. " Here are the sopranos singing in G, ' May the stars ' — 
 lop, May the stars ' ; tenors and sopranos, ' Much pleasure send 
 u,' basses an octave lower, ' May the stars — may stars.' Now I'm 
 ing to join them together, ' May the stars ' — " 
 Twisting round rapidly on the piano-stool, Montgomery pushed 
 1 glasses high up on his beak-like nose, and demanded an opinion, 
 it before Dick could say a word a kick of the long legs brought 
 B musician again face to the keyboard, and for several minutes he 
 ished away, 'occasionally shouting forth an explanatory remark, 
 muttering an apology when he failed to reach the high soprano 
 tes. The love-song, however, was too much for him, and, laugh- 
 y at Jiis own breakdown, he turned from the piano and consented 
 resume the interrupted conversation. Then the plot and musical 
 ;ting of Montgomery's new work was ardently discussed. Frequent 
 mtion was made of the names of OflFenbach and Herv^. Both 
 ire admitted to be geniuses, but the latter, it was declared, would 
 ve been the greater had he had the advantage of a musical educa- 
 in. Various anecdotes were related as to how he had achieved 
 i first successes. Dick was very firm on this point, and he dis- 
 ted violently with Montgomery, who questioned the possibility of 
 man who could not write down the notes being able to compose 
 e whole score of an opera. It was, he maintained, ridiculous to 
 Ik of dictating^ a finale. 
 
 Kate listened, a little bewildered, te these discussions, and she 
 ten wondered if she would ever be able to understand what they 
 sre talking of. She thought not. The conversation shifted so 
 pidly that even when she succeeded in picking up the thread of 
 L idea it so soon got entangled with another that she began to 
 ispair. But notwithstanding these digressions, constant reference 
 18 made to Montgomery's new piece : and when the names of the 
 dies of the company were bemg run over in search of one who 
 uld take the part of a page, with a song and twenty lines of dia- 
 gue to speak, Dick said : — 
 
 " Well, perhaps it isn't for me to say it, but I assure you that I 
 m't know a nicer soprano voice than Mrs. Ede's." 
 " Ho, ho ! " cried Montgomery, twisting his legs over the arm of 
 le chair, " how is it I never heard of this before 1 But won't you 
 ag something, Mrs. Ede ? If you have any of your songs here I'll 
 y the accompaniment over." 
 
 Kate, who did not know a crotchet from a semiquaver, grew 
 ightened at this talk of trying over accompaniments, and tried to 
 ammer out some apologies and excuses. 
 
 " Oh, really, Mr. Montgomery, I assure you Dick is only joking, 
 don't sing at aU — I don't know anything about music." 
 " Don't you mind her ; 'tis as I say, she's got a very nice soprano 
 rice ; and as for an ear, I never knew a better in my life. There's 
 J singing fiat there, I can tell you. But, seriously speaking," he 
 mtinued, taking pity on Kate, whose face expressed the agony of 
 
162 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 shame she was suffering, "of course I know well enough she don' 
 know how to produce her voice ; she never had a lesson in her life 
 but I think you'U agree with me, when you hear it, that the orgai 
 is there. Do sing something, Kate." 
 
 Kate cast a beseeching glance at her lover, and murmured som 
 unintelligible words, but they did not save her. Montgomer 
 crossed himself over the stool, and, after running his fingers ore 
 the keys, said : — 
 
 " Now, sing the scale after me^do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, la — that' 
 the note ; try to get that clear — Se, do ! " 
 
 Not liking to disoblige Dick, and seeing how little was asked o 
 her, Kate consented to have her voice tried. She sang the scali 
 after Montgomery in the first instance, and then, encouraged b; 
 her success, gave it by herself, first in one octave and then in thi 
 other. 
 
 "Well, don't you agree with me?" said Dick. "The organ ii 
 there, and there's no nufling the notes ; they come out clear, don'i 
 they?" 
 
 " They do indeed," replied Montgomery, casting a warm glanci 
 of admiration at Kate ; " but I should so much like to hear Mrs, 
 Ede sing a song." 
 
 " Oh ! I really couldn't—" 
 
 " Nonsense ; sing the song of ' The Bells ' in the Cloches," mi 
 Dick, taking her by the arm. She pleaded and argued, but it wn 
 no use, and when at last it was decided she was to sing, Mont 
 gomeiy, who had in the meantime been trying the finale of his Aral 
 act in several difiFerent ways, stopped short and said suddenly, 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon, you are going to sing the song of 'Thf 
 Bells.' I'U tell you when to begin — now, ' Though they often tell 
 us of our ancient masters.' " 
 
 When Kate had finished singing Montgomery spun round, and, 
 bringing himself face to face with Dick said, speaking profesaion- 
 ally— 
 
 "'Pon my word, its extraordinary how well she does sing. 01 
 course it is a head voice, but could we get a few chest notes you 
 have no idea how different it would sound. " 
 ' " And hasn't she a good ear ; did you ever hear better tune?" 
 
 Under this fire of compliments Kate drew back, blushing at ones 
 from shame and delight. Never had she heard herself praised bfr 
 fore ; never had she suspected she was capable of achieving any^ 
 thing worth notice ; and the double sensation, whilst it corifusec 
 her, stung her with a tingling of spiritual pleasure. 
 
 " You know 1 don't pretend to be able to teach singing, but weB 
 you under my grandfather for a year or so, I am perfectly oertaii 
 that Beaumont wouldn't be in the same street with you." 
 
 " Yes, but as he isn't here," replied Dick, who always kept ai 
 eye on the possible, " don't you think it would be as well for her ti 
 learn a little music ? " 
 
 " I shall only be too delighted to teach Mrs. Ede the little I knot 
 
A MUJIMEE'S WIFE. 103 
 
 myself. I'll come in the morning, and we'll work away at the 
 piano ; and you know," continued Montgomery, who began to re- 
 gret the confession of his inability to teach singing, " although I 
 don t pretend to be able to do what my grandfather could with a 
 voice, still I know something about it. I used to attend all 
 his singing-olasses, and am pretty well up in his method, and— 
 and—if Mrs. Ede likes, I shall be only too happy to do some sing- 
 ing with her ; and, between you and me, I think that in a few 
 lessons I could get rid of that throatiness, and show her how to get 
 a note or two from the chest." 
 
 " I'm sure you could, my boy ; and I shall be awfully delighted 
 with you if you will. Of course we must consider it as a matter of 
 business." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, nonsense, between pals ! " exclaimed Montgomery, 
 who saw a perspective of long hours passed in the society of a 
 pretty woman — a luxury which his long nose and scraggy figure 
 prevented him from indulging in as frequently as he desired. 
 
 After some further discussion, it was arranged that Montgomery 
 should call round some time after breakfast, and that Dick should 
 then leave them together to work away at do, re, mi, fa. Hamilton's 
 system was purchased, and it surprised and amused Kate to learn 
 titat the notes between the spaces spelt " face." But it was in her 
 singing lessons that she took the most interest, and her voice soon 
 began to improve both in power and quality. She sang the scales 
 for three-quarters of an hour daily, and before the end of tlie week 
 she so thoroughly satisfied Montgomery in her rendering of a ballad 
 he had brought for her, that he begged- Dick to ask a few of the 
 " Co." in to tea next Sunday evening. The shine would be taken 
 out of Beaumont, he declared with emphasis. Kate, however, 
 would not hear of singing before anybody for the present, and she 
 gave up going to the theatre in the evening so that she might have 
 two or three hours of quiet to study music-reading by herself. In 
 the morning she woke to talk of Montgomery, who generally came 
 in while they were at breakfast ; and when the lesson was over he 
 would often stop on until they were far advanced in the afternoon, 
 and, looking at each other from time to time, they spoke of the 
 next town they were going to, and alluded to the events of their 
 last journey. Kate would have liked, but she felt ashamed, to 
 speak much of Dick ; but she listened, interested, to all Montgomery 
 told her of himself, of the difficulties he had to contend against, of 
 his hopes for the future. He spoke a great deal of his opera, and 
 he explained his intentions concerning it. The piano was ever 
 handy, and he often sprang up in the middle of a sentence to give 
 a practical illustration of his meaning on the instrument. But these 
 musical digressions did not weary Kate, and sh« judged, to the best 
 of her ability, the different versions of the finale. ' ' Gtive the ptiblio 
 what they wanted," that was his motto, and he intended to act up 
 to it. He had written two or three comic songs that had been im- 
 mense successes, not to speak of the -vards of pantomime music he 
 
164 A MUMMER'S WIFE. . 
 
 had composed, and he knew that when he got hold of a good book 
 in three acts that he'd be able to tackle it. What he was doing now 
 was not much more than a lever de rideau ; but never mind, that 
 was the way to begin. You coiddn't expect a manager to trust you 
 with the piece of the evening until you had proved that you could 
 interest the public in smaller work. At this point of the argument 
 Montgomery generally spoke of Dick, whom he declared was a dear 
 good fellow, who would be only too glad to give a pal a lift when 
 the time came. Kate, on her side, longed to hear something of her 
 lover from an outside source. All she knew of him she had learned 
 from his own lips. Montgomery, in whose head all sorts of reveries 
 concerning Kate were floating, was burning to talk to her of her 
 lover, and to hear from her own lips of the happiness which he 
 imagined a true and perfect affection bestowed upon human life. 
 They had talked on all subjects but this. Kate from timidity had 
 not spoken ; Montgomery, for fear of wounding her feelings, had 
 avoided it; but they were conscious that the restraint jarred 
 their intimacy. One afternoon Dick suddenly burst in on their 
 Ute-drtSte. He was in a great hurry, and after some preamble) 
 he told theip that he had arranged to meet there some gentlemen 
 with whom he had important business to transact. Montgomery 
 took up his hat and prepared to go ; Kate ofliered to sit with the 
 landlady in the kitchen. 
 
 "I'm afraid you'll bore yourself, dear," Dick said after a pause. 
 " But I'll teU you what you might do — I sha'n'tbe able to take you 
 out to-day. Why not go for a walk with Montgomery ! " 
 
 "I shall be delighted ; I'll take you for a charming walk up the 
 hill, and show you the whole town." 
 
 Kate had no objection to make ; so, bidding the manager good- 
 bye, they started oflf on their excursion. Montgomery wore a long 
 Newmarket coat, the tails of which flapped about his legs as he 
 strode forward. Kate was dressed in a brown costume, trimmed 
 with feathers to match ; a small bonnet crowned the top of her head, 
 and her face looked adorably coquettish amid the big bows into 
 which she had tied the strings. Her companion was very conscious 
 of this fact, and with his heart full of pride, he occasionally jerked 
 his head round to watch the passers-by, doubting at the same time 
 if any were as happy as he. 
 
 As the Lennoxes lived high up in the town in an outlying street 
 amid the sandhills, it took five minutes' walk to reach the Sea Road. 
 Blackpool is an airy and wide town, and it bears the same relation 
 to the other towns of Lancashire as the seventh day does to the 
 other six of the week. It is the huge Lancashire Sunday, where 
 the working classes of Acorington, Blackburn, Preston, and Burnlfy, 
 during a week or a fprtnight of the year, go to recreate themselves. 
 A sense of decorum always reigns in the streets ; they are built 
 with large pavements, so that jostling may be avoided. There are 
 many open spaces where people may loiter and congregate 5 the 
 bonnets exhibited in the plate-glass windows are obviously intended 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 165 
 
 r holiday wear, and it is easy to see freshly-painted walls and 
 ight mahogany, though the strings of the spick and span green 
 enetian blinds be closely drawn. By the sea the mock Elizabethan 
 .Dies show an attempt at taste ; but they only line the lengthy 
 la Itoad like an endless procession of well-to-do tradespeople 
 essed out in their Sunday best. They were then gaudy notes of 
 d colour set on a dead blue eastern sky. 
 
 On the left, twenty feet below, is a long strand, over which the 
 'O spider-legged piers crawl at a low tide, and beyond the villas a 
 gh headland crowns the ocean with a cap of green. After about 
 a minutes' walk they began to leave the town behind them ; a 
 de waste of scrubby land lay in front of them. 
 " Do you know that the fellow who owns that building has made 
 fortune?" said Montgomery, pointing to the roof s which began 
 appear above the edge of the common. 
 " Did he really ? " replied Kate, trying to appear interested. 
 " Yes ; he began with a sort of shanty where he sold ginger-beer 
 id lemonade. It became the fashion to go out there, and now he's 
 t dining-rooms and a spirit license. We went up there last week, 
 lot of us, and we had such fun ; we went donkey-riding, and 
 islie got such a faU. Did she tell you of it ? " 
 " No ; I have scarcely spoken to her for the last few days." 
 " How's that ? I thought you were such friends." 
 " I like her very much ; but she's always on the stage at night, 
 id I don't like — ^I mean I should like — but I don't know that she 
 3uld like me to go and see her." 
 " And why not, pray ? " 
 
 This question was embarrassing, and Kate did not answer for 
 me time. At last, raising her eyes, and as suddenly casting them 
 )wn, she said — 
 
 "Well, I thought she mightn't like me to come and see her, 
 icause I'm — well, on account of Dick." 
 
 " Oh, what nonsense ! There's nothing between them now ; 
 lat's all over ages ago, and she's dead nuts on Bret." 
 Kate had now been nearly a fortnight with the actors ; but as 
 le had lived from timidity almost apart, little had as yet come 
 ider her observation which had let her into the secret of their 
 anners and morals. Dick had scarcely spoken to her on the 
 bject. She had, therefore, not yet learnt that in the society she 
 IS in no opprobrium was attached to the fact of a woman 
 Lving a lover, and she still innocently supposed that because she 
 id left her husband Leslie might not like to associate with her. 
 ) learn, then, that she had only replaced another woman in Dick's 
 feotions came upon her with a very sudden shock, an 1 it was the 
 iiy suddenness of the blow that saved her from half r he pain ; for 
 was impossible for a woman who saw in the world nothing but the 
 orifice she had made for the man she loved, to realise the fact that 
 ick's love of her was a toy that had been taken up, just as love of 
 iss Leslie was a toy that had been laid down. It did not occur 
 
166 A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 to her to think that the man she was living with might desert her, 
 nor did she experience any very cruel pangs of jealousy ; she was 
 more startled than anything else by the appearance of a third 
 person in the world which for the last week had seemed so entirely 
 her own. 
 
 " What do you mean?" she said, stopping abruptly. " Was Dicfcj 
 then, in love with Miss Leslie before he knew nie ? " 
 
 Seeing his mistake, Montgomery coloured and strove to improvise 
 excuses. 
 
 "No," he said, "of course he wasn't really in love with her ; but 
 we used to chaff him about her ; that was all." 
 
 "Why should you do that, when she was in love with Bret?" 
 said Kate harshly. 
 
 Montgomery, who dreaded a quarrel with Dick as he would death, 
 grasped at a bit of truth to help him out of his difficulty, and, tremb- 
 ling with excitement, he answered eagerly — 
 
 "But I assure you Bret and Leslie's affiiir only began a couple of 
 months ago. When we first went out on tour there was nothing 
 between them, and then we joked Dick about her just to vex him. 
 If you don't believe me, you can ask the rest of the company." 
 
 To this Kate made no reply, and with her eyes upon the ground she 
 remained for some moments, thinking. The light and matter-of- 
 course way in which her companion spoke of the affections troubled 
 her exceedingly, and very naively she asked herself if it were 
 possible that the people she was with saw no. sin in living together. 
 In the meanwhile Montgomery watched her, and he considered 
 what phrases were best to employ to convince her that Dick had 
 never been Miss Leslie's lover. After a long silence he said, 
 
 ' ' Really it is too bad to be taken up in that way. There's always 
 a bit of chaff going on ; but if it were all taken for gospel truth I 
 don't know where we should be. I give you my word of honour 
 that I don't think he ever looked twice at her ; anyhow, he didn't 
 hesitate between you, nor could he, for, of course, you know you are 
 a fifty times prettier woman. " 
 
 Kate answered the flattery with a delightful smile,, and Mont- 
 gomery thought that he had nearly convinced her. But the young 
 man was deceived by appearances. He had succeeded more in 
 turning the current of her thoughts than in persuading her. 
 
 "You seem to think very lightly of such things," she said, raising 
 her brown eyes with a look that melted her face to a heavenly 
 softness. 
 
 Montgomery did not understand, and she was forced to explain. 
 This was difficult to do, but, after a slight hesitation, she said, 
 
 " Then you really do believe that Miss Leslie and Mr. Bret are 
 lovers 1 " 
 
 " Oh, I really don't know," he said hastily, for he saw himseM 
 drawn into a fresh complication ; " I never pry into other people's 
 affairs. They seem to like each other, that's all." 
 It was now Kate's turn to see that indiscreet questions might 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 167 
 
 lead to the quarrels she was most anxious to avoid, and they wallied 
 along the breezy common in silence., In the foreground a dozen 
 donkey-boys who had been fortunate enough to secure clients be- 
 laboured their animals with sticks and strove to frighten them with 
 shouts. The sails of a windmill were seen turning over the crest of 
 a hill, and, nearly lost in the dim horizon, a factory chimney or two 
 smoked. On the left, the cliff took a sheer dip of fifty feet down to 
 the long, uncovered reaches which stretched away for nules and mUes ; 
 glistening patches of water, weedy wastes of stone filled full with tJie 
 white wings of sea-gulls, touched here and there with the black 
 backs of the shrimp-fishers. The sea was a hazy, distant streak, and 
 the dome of the sky immense. 
 
 " How beautiful the country is ! I didn't know what it was like 
 till lately. I never was out of Hanley before. How I should like 
 to live here always by the sea ! And how strange it is that it should 
 go and come like that 1 I had never seen it till the day before 
 yesterday as it is now, and Dick was so amused, for I thought it 
 was going to dry up. The morning after our arrival here we sat 
 down by the bathing-boxes on the beach and listened to the waves. 
 They roared along the shore. It was very wonderful. Do you not 
 think so?" 
 
 " Tes, indeed I do. When I was here before, I spent one whole 
 morning listening to the waves, and their surging suggested a waltz 
 to me. This is the way it went," and leaning on the rough paling 
 that guarded the precipitous edge, Montgomery sang his unpub- 
 lished composition. " I never got any further," he said, stopping 
 short in the middle of the second part ; "I somehow lost the char- 
 acter of the thing ; but I like the opening." 
 
 ' ' Oh, so do I. I wonder how you can think of such tunes. , How 
 clever you must be ! " 
 
 Montgomery smiled nervously, and he proposed that they should 
 go over to the hotel to have a drink. The sweet face of the 
 woman enframed in the infinite and misty spaces of sea and sky 
 was overpowering, and he had to struggle with his feelings as he 
 would against the persuasiveness of a narcotic. It seemed im- 
 possible not to betray himself, and he strove not to look eagerly at 
 her — at the richness of the black velvety tresses, and the still 
 complexion filled with the delicate greens of an ostrich egg, and 
 modelled as delicately. The last few days had accomplished 
 almost miraculous changes in Kate. The strong air breathed in 
 her walks along the seashore, and the underdone beefsteaks eaten 
 in the morning, had rendered her organism, as it were, joyous, 
 and in this material existence the woman became singularly beauti- 
 ful. A little of the rapidly circulating blood flowed to her cheeks, 
 and tinted them with hues more tender than the rarest carnations 
 can boast of. The shadows and signs of work and unrest disap- 
 peared ; the draggings of the skin and the too incisive lines of the 
 features — all that marks age in a woman — melted and cleared away. 
 Her figure, which had threatened to turn angular, now commenced 
 
168 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 to swell like a budding flower into delicate roundnesses, and as she 
 leaned on the raU the flesh of her arms in one or two places dis- 
 tended the seams of her dress. 
 
 " Oh, I don't like to go up there," she said after examining for 
 some moments this hillside bar-room. " Look at all the men there 
 are before the door." 
 
 "What does it matter? We'll have a table to ourselves. Be- 
 sides, you'd better have something to eat, for now we are out we 
 may as well stay out. There's no use going back yet awhile. Dick 
 may have to ask those men to lunch." 
 
 Kate debated within herself if she should accept or refuse, but 
 Montgomery talked so rapidly of his waltz — of whether he should 
 call it the "Wave," the "Seashore," or the "Clifi'," that he did 
 not give her time to collect her thoughts, and they were soon within 
 a few yards of the porch. 
 
 "I can't go in there,'' she said; "why, it's only a public- 
 house." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ; everybody comes up here to have a drink. It 
 is quite the fashion." 
 
 'JThe men round the doorway stared at her, and K^te felt bitterly 
 ashamed ; but seeing some of their own chorus-girls coming from 
 where the donkeys were stationed, in the company of young men 
 with high collars and tight trousers, she ran into the bar-room. 
 
 " Now you see what a scrape you have led me into. I wouldn't 
 have met those people for anything." 
 
 " What does it matter? If it were wrong do you think I'd 
 bring you iii here ? You ask Dick when you get home." 
 
 A doubt of the possibility of Dick thinking anything wrong 
 clouded Kate's mind, and Montgomery ordered sandwiches and two 
 brandies and sodas. Horror of a public-house, since her childhood, 
 had been vigorously impressed on Kate's mind ; and she had 
 always been taught to consider as the most degraded of human 
 beings the dark-shawled and crumpled-bonnetted women who slide 
 out of the swinging doors to slink down an alley. It astonished her, 
 therefore, to hear Montgomery say that he saw no more harm in 
 having a drink and a bite in a pub than anywhere else. The point 
 was argued passionately, but it did not prevent them from enjoying 
 themselves. The sandwiches were excellent, and Kate, who had 
 scarcely tasted anything but beer in her life, thought the brandy 
 and soda very refreshing. When she had finished Montgomery 
 tried to persuade her to try a " split " with him, but she answered 
 laughing, that if she did he would have to take her home in a 
 carriage. The question then came of how to get out of the place, 
 and after much hesitation and conjecturing, they slipped out the 
 back way through the poultry-yard and stables. 
 
 In front of them was a very steep path which led to the sea-strand. 
 Large masses of earth had given way, and these had formed ledges 
 which, in turn, had somehow become linked together, and down 
 these it was just possible to climb. 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 169 
 
 " Do you think you could manage ! " he said, holding out his hand. 
 
 " I don't know ; do you think it dangerous ! " 
 
 " No, not if you take care ; but the cliff is pretty high ; it would 
 not do to fall over. Perhaps you had better come back across the 
 common by the road." 
 
 " And meet all those girls ? " 
 
 " I don't see why you should be afraid of meeting them," said 
 Montgomery, who was secretly anxious to show the chorus that if 
 he were not the possessor, he was at least on very intimate terms 
 with this pretty woman. 
 
 " Oh no, no 1 I wouldn't meet them for the world, and coming 
 out of a public-house, too ! I don't see why we shouldn't come 
 down this way. I am sure I can manage it if you will give me your 
 hand and go first." 
 
 The descent then began. Kate's high-heeled boots were hard to 
 walk in, and every now and then her feet would fail her, and she 
 would utter little cries of fear, and lean against the cliff's side. It 
 was delightful to reassure her, and Montgomery profited by those 
 occasions to lay his hands upon her shoulders and hold her arms in 
 his hands. Below them lay the blank, wide reaches of the sea ; 
 above them a dome of misty sky. No human creature was in hear- 
 ing or in sight, and BoUtude seemed to unite them and the mimic 
 danger of the descent to endear them to each other. The quiet 
 and enchantment of earth and air melted into her thoughts until 
 she enjoyed a perfect bUss of unreasoned emotion. He, too, was 
 conscious of the day, and his happiness, touched with a diffused 
 sense of desire, was intense, even to a savour of bitterness. Like 
 all young men, he longed to complete his youth by some great pas- 
 sion, but out of horror of the gross sensualities with which he was 
 always sxwrounded, his delicate artistic nature took refuge in a 
 pseudo-platonic affection for his friend's mistress. It was an infinite 
 pleasure, and could it have lasted for ever he would not have 
 thought of changing it. To take her by the hand and help her to 
 cross the weedy stones ; to watch her pretty stare of wonderment 
 when he explained that the flux and reflux of the tides were 
 governed by the moon ; to hear her speak of love, and to dream 
 what that love might be was enough. 
 
 Along the coast there were mUes and miles of reaches, and to 
 gain the sea they were obliged to make many detours. Sometimes 
 they came upon long stretches of sand separated by what seemed to 
 them to be a river, and Montgomery often proposed that he should 
 carry Kate across the streamlet. But she would not hear of it, 
 although, on one occasion, she did not refuse until he had placed 
 his arms around her waist. Escaping from him she ran along the 
 edge, saying she would find a passing-place. Montgomery pursued, 
 amused by the fluttering of her petticoats ; and they both stopped 
 like disappointed children when, after a race of twenty or thirty 
 yards, they found that their discovered river was only a long pool 
 that owned no outlet to the sea. 
 
170 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " Well, never mind," said Kate ; " did you ever see such beauti- 
 ful clear water ? I must have a drink." 
 
 " You have no cup," he said, turning away so that she should 
 not see him laughing. " You might manage to get up a little in 
 your hands." 
 
 "So I might. Oh what fun ! Tell me how I am to do it." 
 
 Very gravely he made her kneel on the firm sand, and having 
 showed her how to hollow her hands, he wkited to enjoy the result 
 of his joke. And forgetful that the sea was salt she lifted the brine 
 to her lips ; but when she spat out the horrible mouthful and 
 turned on him a questioning face, he only answered that if she 
 didn't take care she would be the death of him. 
 
 "And didn't ums know the sea was salt, and did urns think it 
 very nasty, and not half as nice as a brandy-and-soda." 
 
 Kate watched him for a moment, and then her face clouded, and 
 pouting her pretty lips she said : 
 
 " Of course I don't pretend to be as clever as you, but if you had 
 never seen the sea until a week ago you might forget." 
 
 " Yes, yes, for — for — get that it — it was not as nice as brandy- 
 and-soda," cried Montgomery, holding his sides. 
 
 " I wasn't going to say that, and it was very rude of you to in- 
 terrupt me in that way." 
 
 "Now come, don't get cross. You should understand a joke 
 better than that," he replied, for seeing the tears in her eyes he be- 
 gan to fear he had spoilt the delight of their day. 
 
 "I think it is unkind of you to laugh at me and play tricks on 
 me like that," said Kate, trying to master her emotion. The tears 
 stood in her eyes. 
 
 Then as they walked under the pale sunset, Montgomery broke 
 long and irritating silences by apologising for his indiscretion, but 
 until they arrived at a place where a little boy and girl were fishing 
 for shrimps, Kate did not answer him. Here there was quite a httle 
 lake, and amid the rocks and weedy stones the clear water 
 flowed as it might in an aquarium. The light from above decorated 
 the liquid surface with the most delicate opal tints, and the reflections 
 of the children's plump limbs in the water were adorable. 
 
 " Oh, how nice they look ! What little dears ! " exclaimed Kate, 
 but as she pressed forward to watch the children her foot dislodged 
 a young lobster from the corner of rock in which ho had been 
 hiding. 
 
 " That's a lobster," cried Montgomery. 
 
 " Is it?" cried Kate, and she pursued the ungainly thing, wliich 
 sought vainly for a crevice. 
 
 After an animated chase, with the aid of her parasol she caught 
 it, and was about to take it up with her fingers when Montgomery 
 stopped her. 
 
 " You had better take care ; it will pretty well nip the fingers off 
 you." 
 
 " You aren't joking ?" she asked innocently. 
 
A MUMMER'S "WIFE. 171 
 
 "No, indeed I'm not; but I hope you don't mind my telling 
 you." 
 
 At that moment their eyes met, and Kate, seeing how foolish she 
 had been, burst into fits of laughter. 
 
 " No, no, no, I — I don't mind your telling me that — that a lob- 
 ster bites, but— — " 
 
 " But when it comes to saying sea- water is not as nice as brandy- 
 and-soda," he replied, bursting into a roar of merriment, "we cut 
 up rough, don't we ? " 
 
 The children climbed up on the rocks to look at them, and it was 
 some time before Kate could find words to ask them to show what 
 they had caught. The little boy was especially clever at his work, 
 and regardless of wetting himself, he plunged into the deepest pools, 
 intercepting with his net at every turn the swiftly crawling shrimps 
 who vainly sought to escape him. His little sister, too, was not 
 lacking in dexterity, and between them they had filled a fairly-sized 
 basket. Kate examined everything with an almost feverish inte- 
 rest. Long gluey masses of seaweed she tore from the rocks and 
 insisted on carrying home ; the mussels she found on the^rocks in- 
 terested her profoundly, and concerning a dead starfish she ques- 
 tioned the little shrimp-fishers for several minutes. They looked at 
 her in amazement, evidently thinking it very strange that a grown- 
 up woman should ask such questions. Finally, however, the little 
 boy showed her what she was to do with the lobster. He wedged 
 the claws with two bits of wood, and attached a string whereby she 
 might cany it in her hand. Montgomery aflected to be much 
 amused by her innocence, but in truth he knew very little more of 
 the sea than did his companion. 
 
 At moments expressions of patient beatitude passed over their 
 faces. For him, whose life was spent in the dark twilight of re- 
 hearsals, whose sun was the gas at night, whose fields were a cloth 
 of green baize, and who breathed but the odours of size, violet- 
 powder, and dust ; for her, whose life had been spent in the glare 
 of red brick walls, whose sky had been over a smoke-cloud, whose 
 fields had been spaces of black cinders, this long and odoriferous 
 sea-shore, ventilated by the rose-tinted evening sky, was a mysteri- 
 ous and luminous revelation. 
 
 With delicate goar-nandise they abandoned themselves to think- 
 ing of their happiness, and in silences that were only interrupted by 
 occasional words they picked their way along the strand. 
 
 Kate thought of Dick — of what he was doing, of what he was 
 saying. She saw him surrounded by men ; there were glasses on 
 the table. She looked into his large, melancholy blue eyes, and 
 dreamed of when she would sit again on his knees and explain to 
 him for the hundredth time that love was all-sufficing, and that he 
 who possessed it could possess nothing, more. Montgomery was 
 also thinking of Dick, and for the conquest of so pretty a woman 
 the dreamy-minded musician viewed his manager with admiration. 
 The morality of the question did not appeal to him, and his only 
 
172 ,A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 fear was that Kate would one day be deserted. " If so," he then 
 thought, and not without a certain exaltation of the senses, "I 
 must support her." Such a duty appeared to him an imparadised 
 dream, and to realise it he thought of the music he would have to 
 compose — songs, all of which would be dedicated to her. After a 
 long sUenoe she said : 
 
 " Have you known Dick a long time ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, two or three years or so," replied Montgomery, a 
 little abashed at a question which sounded at that moment like a 
 distant echo of his own thoughts, "Why do you ask ? " 
 
 "For no very particular reason, only you seem such great 
 friends." 
 
 " Yes, I like him very much, he's such a dear good fellow, he'd 
 divide his last bob with a pal." 
 
 The conversation then came to a pause. Both suddenly remem- 
 bered how they had set out on their walk detarmined to seek infor- 
 mation of each other on certain subjects. Montgomery wished to 
 hear from Kate how Dick had persuaded her to run away with him ; 
 Kate wanted to learn from Montgomery something of her lover's 
 private life — if he were faithful to a woman when he loved her, if 
 he had been in love with many women before. As she considered 
 how she would put her questions a grey cloud passed over her face, 
 and she thought of Miss Leslie. But just as she was going to speak 
 Montgomery interrupted her. He said : 
 
 " You did not know Dick before he came to lodge in your house 
 at Hanley, did you 2 " 
 
 Kate raised her eyes with a swift and startled look, but 
 being anxious to speak on the subject she replied, speaking very 
 softly : 
 
 " No, never ; and perhaps it would have been well if he had never 
 come to my house." 
 
 There was not so much insincerity in the phrase as may at first 
 appear. Nearly all women consider it necessary to maintain to 
 themselves and to others that they deeply regret having sinned. 
 The delusion at once pleases and consoles them, and they cling to it 
 to the last. 
 
 " I often think of it, '' said Montgomery. ' ' It appears to me such 
 a romantic story, that you who sat all day and mi — mi — " he was 
 going to say minded a sick husband, but for fear of wounding her 
 feelings he altered the sentence to " and never, or hardly ever, left 
 Hanley in your life, should be going about the country with us." 
 
 Kate, who guessed what he had intended saying, answered : 
 
 " Yes, I'm afraid I've been very wicked. I often think of it, and 
 you must despise me. That's what makes me ashamed to go about 
 with the rest of the company. I'm always wondering what they 
 think of me. Tell me, do tell me the truth, I don't mind hearing it. 
 What do they say about me ? Do they abuse me very much ? " 
 
 " Abuse you ? They abuse you for being a pretty woman, I sup- 
 Dose. but as for anvthinsr else, srood heavens ! thev'd look well I 
 
A MtTiMMEU'S WIFE. 173 
 
 Why, you are far the most respectable one among the lot. Don't 
 you know that ? " 
 
 "I suspected Beaumont was not quite right, perhaps; but you 
 don't mean to say there isn't one ? Not that little thing with fair 
 hair who sings in the chorus ? " 
 
 "Well, yes, they say she's all right. There are one or two per- 
 haps ; but when it comes to asking me if Beaumont and Leslie are 
 down on you for leaving your husband ! Oh, that's too good 1 " and 
 Montgomery burst out laughing. 
 
 This decided expression of opinion was grateful to Kate's feelings, 
 and the conversation might have been pursued with advantage, but 
 seeing an opportunity of speaking of Dick, she said : 
 
 " But you told me there was nothing between Mr. Bret and Miss 
 Leslie." 
 
 " I told you I didn't know whether there was or not ; but I'm 
 quite sure there never was between her and Dick. You see I can 
 guess what you are trying to get at." 
 
 " I can scarcely believe that. Now I think of it, I remember she 
 was in his room the night of the row, when he turned me out." 
 
 "Yes, yes ; but there were a lot of us. The principals in a com- 
 pany generally stick together. It is extraordinary how you women 
 will keep on nagging at a thing. I swear to you that I am as certain 
 as I stand here there was never anything between them. Do let us 
 talk of something else." 
 
 They had now wandered back to the fine pebbly beach, to within 
 a hundred yards of the pier ; and above the high cliff they could 
 just see the red chimney-stacks of the town. Some women were 
 collecting their towels which had been left to dry on the stones. A 
 bathing-maoliine offered a convenient seat. 
 
 " Let us sit here," said Elate, seating herself on one of the shafts ; 
 " I'm a little tired." 
 
 Montgomery placed himself beside her. 
 
 Far away beyond the wet stretches of sand and slimy rocks, 
 beyond the shriinp-fishers and the conaregating gulls, a luminous 
 line indicated the beginning of the sea. One boat made a black 
 stain on the shimmering mist which rose high into the sky simplify- 
 ing it to a simple flat grey tint. The sun sank, a blushing patch of 
 light, and looking through the grim legs of the skeleton pier, the 
 water lazily flapped to gold, the one note of colour in this grey sea- 
 piece. Montgomery sang his waltz softly over, but before he 
 arrived at the second part his thoughts wandered, and he said : 
 
 " Have you heard anything of your husband since you left 
 Hanley?" 
 
 The abruptness of the question made Kate start ; but she was not 
 offended, and she answered : 
 
 " No, I haven't. I wonder what he'll do ? " 
 
 " Possibly apply for a divorce. If he does, you will be able to 
 marry Dick. " j . , • j 
 
 A flush of pleasure passed over Kate's face, and when she raised 
 
r4 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 er eyes her look seemed to have caught some of the brightness of 
 lie sunset. But it died, even as the light above, into grey gloom, 
 nd she said, sighing : 
 
 " I do not suppose he would marry me." 
 
 " Well, if he wojildn't, there are lots who would." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Kate simply. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ; only I should think that any one would be glad 
 marry you," the young man answered, hoping fervidly that she 
 rould not repeat the conversation to her lover. 
 
 " I hope he will ; for if he were to leave me, I think I should 
 lie. But tell me — you will, won't you 1 for you are my friend, are 
 'ounot?" 
 
 " I hope so," he replied constrainedly. 
 
 " Well, tell me the truth ; do you think he can be constant to a 
 Tonian? Does he get tired easily ? Does he like change ? " 
 
 Kate laid her hand on Montgomery's shoulder, and looked plead- 
 ngly in his face. 
 
 "Dick is an awful good fellow, and I'm sure he couldn't but 
 )ehave well to anyone he liked — not to say loved ; and I know 
 ;hat he never cared for anybody as he does for you ; he as much as 
 ;old me." 
 
 Kate's smile was expressive of pleasure and weariness, and after 
 t pause, she said : 
 
 " I hope what you say is true ; but I don't think men ever love as 
 vomen do. When we give our heart to one man, we cannot love 
 mother. I don't know why, but I don't believe that a man could 
 36 quite faithful to a woman." 
 
 " That's all nonsense. I'm sure that if I loved a woman it would 
 lot occur to me to think of another." 
 
 " Perhaps you might," she answered; and, unconsciously com- 
 jaring them with Dick's jovial features, she examined intently the 
 snormous nose and the hollow, sunken cheeks. Montgomery won- 
 iered what she was thinking of, and he half guessed that she was 
 considering if it were possible that any woman could care for him. 
 To die without ever having been able to inspire an affection was a 
 fear that was habitual to him, and often at night he lay awake, 
 racked by the thought that his ugliness would ever debar him from 
 ittaining this dearly desired end. 
 
 " Were you ever in love with anybody ? " she asked, after a long 
 silence. 
 
 "Yes, once." 
 
 " And did she care for you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think she did at first. We used to meet at dinner every 
 day ; but then she fell in love with an acrobat — I suppose you would 
 call him an acrobat — I mean one of those gutta-percha men who 
 tie their legs in a knot over their heads. The child was de- 
 formed. Oh, I was awfully cut up about it at the time, but it is all 
 over now." 
 
 The conversation then came to a pause. Kate did not like to ask 
 
A' MUMMER'S WIFE. 175 
 
 my further questions, but as she stared vaguely at the pale sun 
 •etting, she wondered what the acrobat was like, and how a girl 
 iould prefer a gutta-percha man to the musician. As the minutes 
 )assed, the silence grew more irritating, and the evening colder. 
 Che sun, as it descended, slipped into large flat masses of mist, from 
 vhich it peeped only occasionally, like a golden ghost or an aureoled 
 ace at a window. On the right, looking over the pier, a deep blue 
 iurtain of cloud was being drawn by the wind across the yellow and 
 ■ose-tinted spaces. On the left a sea-fog was gathering, and the 
 ligh grass-grown promontory from whence they had come was now 
 lardly visible- -it was momentarily disappearing. 
 
 "I'm afraid we shall catch a chill if we remain here much 
 onger," said Montgomery, who had again begun to sing his waltz 
 )ver. 
 
 " Yes, I think we had better be getting home," Kate answered 
 Ireamily. 
 
 After some searching, they found a huge stairway, cut for the use 
 jf bathers in the side of the cliflf, and up this feet-torturing path 
 Montgomery helped Kate carefully and lovingly. 
 
m 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Feom Blackpool Morton and Cox's opera company proceeded to 
 Southport, and, still going northward, they visited Newcastle, 
 Durham, Dundee, Glasgow, and Edinburgh. But in no one town 
 iid they remain more than a week. Every Sunday morning, re- 
 jardless as swallows of chiming church-bells, they met at the station 
 md were whirled as fast as steam could take them to new streets, lodg- 
 ng-houses, and theatres. To Kate this constant cha;nge was at once 
 irearying and perplexing, and she often feared that she would never 
 3e able to habituate herself to her new mode of life. But on the 
 principle that we can scarcely be said to be moving when all around 
 B moving in a like proportion, Kate soon learned to regard locality 
 is a mere nothing, and to fix her centre of gravity in the forty 
 luraan beings who, bound to her by the light ties of opera boufife, 
 ffere wandering with her. For wherever she went her life remained 
 ;he same. She saw the same faces, heard the same words. Were 
 ;hey likely to do good business, was debated when they got out of 
 ^e train ; that they had or had not done good business was afiSrmed 
 yhen they got into the train. Soon even the change of apartments 
 leased to astonish her, and she saw nothing surprising in the fact 
 ihat her chest of drawers was one week on the right and the 
 'oUowing on the left-hand side of her bed. Nor did she notice 
 liter two or three montlis of travelling whether wax ilowers did or did 
 lot decorate the corners of her sitting-room, and it seemed to her of 
 10 moment whether the Venetian blinds were green or brown. The 
 linners she ate were as good in one place as in another ; the family 
 resemblance which slaveys bear to each other satisfied her eyes, 
 ind the difference of latitude and longitude between Glasgow and 
 (Aberdeen she found did not in the least alter her daily occupations. 
 Montgomery came to see her every morning, and the tunefulness 
 )r untunefulness of the piano was really aU that reminded them of 
 ;heir change of residence. From twelve until three they worked at 
 nusic, both vocal and instrumental. During these hours Dick 
 jenerally sought for excuses to absent himself, but when he returned 
 le always insisted that Montgomery should remain to dinner. All 
 "ormalities between them were abolished, and Kate did not hesitate 
 ;o sit on her lover's knees in the presence of her ungainly musio- 
 naster. But he did not seem to care, he only laughed a little 
 lervouely. Kate sometimes wondered if he really disliked witness- 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. I77 
 
 'Pg ™oh familiarities. In her heart of hearts she was conscious 
 that there were aflBnities of sentiment between them, and during 
 aie music lessons they talked continually of love. The sight of 
 Montgomery's lanky face often interrupted with a feeling of repug- 
 nance the sweetest currents of emotion, but he could sympathise and 
 follow her where Dick could not. And to lean her head on her 
 liand ajid listen to him playing were moments of divino abandon- 
 ment inexpressibly dear, and to hear him talk of the operas he 
 [loped to compose produced in her delightful sensations of enthusi- 
 ism. Few are there to whom anything but material advantages 
 a,nd pleasures are comprehensible ; but Kate could in a vague and 
 fragmentary way enjoy what the French call " une jouissance de 
 t§te." And as a plant that has been dying-for days in a dark cellar, 
 when exposed to the air, will in a sickly sort of gaiety lift up its 
 poor leaves to the light, this faculty which for years had been 
 Brushed out of sight now began to assert itself. 
 
 Montgomery was as light to Kate, and soon he became almost as 
 necessary to her spiritual happiness as her lover was to her material. 
 He was so kind, so gentle, and he allowed her to talk to him as 
 pauoh as she liked of Dick. Indeed he seemed quite as much 
 interested in the subject as she was. It was always Dick, Dick, 
 Dick. He told her anecdotes concerning him — how he had acted 
 sertain parts ; how he had stage-managed certain pieces ; of supper 
 parties ; of adventures they had been engaged in. These stories 
 imused Kate, although the odour of woman in which they were 
 bathed, as in an atmosphere, annoyed and troubled her. As if to 
 repay him for his kindness, she, in her turn, became confidential, 
 md one day she told him the story of her life. It would, she said, 
 fyere it taken down, make the most wonderful story-book ever 
 written. Beginning at the beginning, she gave rapidly an account 
 Df her childhood, accentuating the religious and severe manner in 
 which she had been brought up, until the time she and her mother 
 nade the acquaintance of the Edes. There it was necessary to 
 lesitate. She did not wish to tell an absolute lie, but was yet de- 
 sirous to convey the impression that her marriage with Mr. Ede 
 lad been forced upon her ; but Montgomery had already accepted 
 t as a foregone conclusion. With his fingers twisted through his 
 lair, and his head thrust forward in the position in which we are 
 iccustomed to see composers seeking inspiration depicted, he 
 istened, passionately interested ; and when it came to telling of 
 ;he mental struggle she had gone through when struggling between 
 ler love for Dick and her duty towards her husband, Montgomery's 
 'ace, under the influence of many emotions, straightened, and con- 
 tracted. He asked a hundred questions, and was anxious to know 
 vhat she had thought of Dick when she saw him for the first time. 
 5he told him all she could remember. Her accoimt of the visit to 
 ;he potteries proved very amusing, and in fits of laughter, she 
 iiade Montgomery swear he would never breath a word before she 
 old him of their fall amid the cups and saucers. 
 
178 A MUMMER'S -WrFE. T 
 
 " Oh, the devil ! Was that the way he cut his legs ? He told us 
 that he had forgotten his latchkey, and that he had done it in 
 getting over the garden-wall." 
 
 Running his hand over the piano, Montgomery begged of Kate 
 to continue her story ; but as she proceeded with the analysis of 
 her passion the events became more and more difficult to narrate. 
 It was necessary to employ many words and many circumlocutiona 
 of phrase to tell how she went down in the one dark night to open 
 the street-door to Dick. And yet it was essential to do this so* 
 that the whole blame should fall on him. She alluded vaguely to 
 violence and to force. Then Montgomery's face darkened and he 
 protested against his friend's conduct. 
 
 To Kate it was consoling to meet some one who thought she 
 was not entirely to blame, and the conversation came to a 
 pause. 
 
 " And now I am going about the country with you all, and am 
 thinking of goingon the stage." 
 
 " And will be a success, too — that I'll bet my life." 
 
 "Do you really think so? Do tell me the real truth; do you 
 think I shall ever be able to sing ? " 
 
 " I'm sure of it." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to hear you say so, for it is now more necessary, 
 than ever." 
 
 " How do you mean ? Has anything fresh happened ? Tou are 
 not on bad terms with Dick, are you ? Tell me." 
 
 " Oh ! not the least! Dick is very good to me ; but if I tell you 
 something you promise not to mention it ? " 
 
 " I promise." 
 
 " Well, we were — I don't know what you call it — summoned, I 
 think — by a man before we left Blackpool to appear in the Divorce 
 Court." 
 
 For nearly half a minute they looked at each other in silence ; 
 then Montgomery said — 
 
 " I suppose it was after all about the best thing that could 
 happen." 
 
 This answer surprised Kate. "Why," she said, " do you think 
 it is the best thing that could happen to me ? " 
 
 "Because when you get your divorce you will, if you play your 
 cards well, be able to get Dick to marry you." 
 
 Kate made no reply, and for some time both considered the 
 question in silence. She wondered if Dick loved her sufficiently to 
 make such a sacrifice for her : Montgomery reflected on the best 
 means of persuading his friend " to do right by the woman." At 
 last he said : 
 
 " But what did you mean just now when you said that it was 
 more necessary than ever that you should go on the stage ? " 
 
 " I don't know, only that if I am going to be divorced I suppose 
 I had better see what I can do to get my living." 
 
 " Well, it isn't my fault if you aren't on the stage already. I 
 
A MUMMBE'S WIFE. 179 
 
 ve been trying to induce you to make up your mind for the last 
 )nth past." 
 
 " Oh, the chorus ! that horrid chorus ! I never could walk about 
 fore a whole theatrefuU of people in those red tights." 
 " What nonsense you do talk ! There's nothing indecent in 
 iaring tights. Our leading actresses play in travestie. In Faust 
 •ebeUi Bettini wears tighte, and no one, I'm sure, can say any- 
 ing against her." 
 
 Between the three, friend, mistress, and lover, this was a constant 
 bject of discussion. All sorts of arguments had been adduced, 
 it none of them had shaken Kate's unreasoned convictions on 
 is point. A sense of modesty, inherited through generations, 
 se to her head, and a feeling of repugnance, that seemed 
 Daost invincible, forbade her to bare herself thus to the eyes of 
 gazing public. But although inborn tendencies cannot be era- 
 cated, the will that sustains them can be broken by force of cir- 
 imstiances, and when, at the close of innumerable reasonings, 
 ick declared that the thirty shillings a week she would thus earn 
 ould be a real assistance to them, her resolutions began to fail 
 sr. In reality the manager had no immediate need of the money, 
 it it went against his feelings to allow principles, and above all 
 inciples he could not but think absurd, to stand in the way of his 
 irning over a bit of coin. Besides, as he said, "How can I put 
 )U into a leading business all at once ? No matter how well you 
 lew your words, you'd dry up when you got before the footlights, 
 ou must get over your stage fright in the chorus. ' On the first 
 !casion I'll give you a line to speak, then two or three, and then 
 hen you have learnt to blurt them out without hesitation we'll 
 ',e about a part." 
 
 These and similar phrases were dinned into her ears, until at last 
 le matter got somehow decided, and the London costumier was 
 ilegraphed to for a new dress. When it arrived a few days after, 
 le opening of the package caused a good deal of merriment, 
 ick held up, and before Montgomery, the long red stockings as 
 !ate called the tights. She hid her face in her hands and fled into 
 le next room. But it was too late now to retract. The dress 
 loked beautiful, and tempted on all sides, she consented to appear 
 lat night in Les Cloches. So at haH-past six, with her bundle 
 nder her arm, she walked down to the theatre. Dick had not 
 lotted to her a dressing-room, and to avoid Miss Beaumont, who 
 as always rude, she went of her own accord up to number six. 
 ji old woman opened the door to her, and when Kate had ex- 
 lained what she had come for, she said : 
 
 " Very well, ma'am. I'm sure I don't mind ; but we are already 
 ight in this room, and have only one basin and looking-glass 
 etween the lot. I'm afraid you won't be very comfortable." 
 
 " Oh ! that won't matter. It may be only for to-night. If I'm 
 BO much in the way I'll ask Mr. Lennox to put me somewhere else." 
 
 On that Kate entered. It was a long, narrow, whitewashed 
 
180 A mUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 room, smelling strongly of violet-powder and clothes. Nobody had 
 as yet arrived, and, awaiting the wearers, the dresses lay spread 
 out on chairs." Kate examined, and involuntarily she calculated . 
 that she would not be able to takq..an order for a costume like the 
 one before her for less than four pounds. It was one of the 
 peasant-girls' dresses — a short calico skirt, trimmed with ivreaths of^ 
 wild flowers. She thought it charming, and she expressed her 
 regret that she could not exchange the page's attire she was being 
 shown how to put on for one of the others. These opinions were 
 considered surprising by the dresser, who informed Kate that tlie 
 ladies generally preferred men's clothes to women's. 
 
 "And as regards the tights," added the old woman, "you'd 
 have to wear them just as well with peasant-girls' frocks as with 
 these trunks, for the skirts, as you can see, only just come below 
 the knees." 
 
 At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the clatter- 
 ing of feet on the rickety staircase. Immediately aiter the door 
 was suddenly opened, and with loud words two girls entered. 
 Kate had often spoken to them in the wings, and when a few 
 questions had been asked she was surprised to find that her deter- 
 mination to go on the stage elicited no other remark than that it 
 was odd she hadn't got tired of sitting at home long ago. 
 
 Then more women arrived, and a general stripping began. 
 Bosoms and raised arms glistened, making a faint note of pinl: 
 on the pallor of the whitewashed wall ; water was heard splashing, 
 and the flat, sickly smell of soapsuds filled the heated air. Three 
 voices shouted at once for the dresser, who had begun to lose her 
 head. One lady could not find her tights, another insisted on the 
 body of her dress being laced up at once, the third failed to make 
 herself understood. The looking-glass was in great requisition, 
 and a girl who was still in her chemise quarrelled furiously with 
 another attired in breastplate and helmet. But these comical 
 contrasts could not take away the animal repulsiveness of the scene. 
 
 At once horrified and bewildered, Kate withdrew her chair as 
 far out of reach as possible of the flying petticoats and the scattered 
 boots and shoes. She hated everything, and, much as she feared 
 the inspection of her person that would take place when she got 
 downstairs, she was glad when the call-boy knocked at the door and 
 shouted — 
 
 " Ladies ! ladies ! Mr. Lennox is waiting ; the curtain is go- 
 ing up." 
 
 "AH right! all right!" cried an octave of treble voices, and 
 those who were ready, tripping over their swords, hurried down- 
 stairs, leaving the others screaming at the dresser, who was vainly 
 attempting to tidy the room. 
 
 When Kate got on the stage the first person she saw was the very 
 one she wished most to avoid — Montgomery. After having con- 
 ducted the overture he had come up to find out the reason of the 
 "wait.'' Dick was rushing about, declaring that if this ever 
 
A MUMMBK'S WIFE. . 181 
 
 occurred again half-a-orown would be stopped out of all the 
 salaries. The noisein front -was deafening. 
 
 "Oh ! how very nice we look ! and they are not a bit thin," ex- 
 claimed Montgomery, pushing his glasses up on his nose ; and, 
 forgetting his difficulties as if by magic, Dick smiled delightfully, 
 [ and, holding her at arm's length, he looked at her critically all over. 
 
 "Charming, my dear ! There won't be a man in front who won't 
 fall in love with you. But I must see where I can place you." 
 
 All the rest passed as rapidly as in a dream, and before she could 
 again think distinctly she was walking round the stage in the com- 
 pany of a score of other girls. Treading in time to the music, they 
 formed themselves into lines, making place for Leslie, who came 
 running down to the footlights. But Kate had neither ears nor 
 eyes for anything. She felt that everyone was gazing at her. One 
 old gentleman in a" box annoyed her excessively ; with his opera- 
 glasses fixed upon her he remainoJ. immoveable. Twenty times she 
 asked herself when he would look the other way, and she sought for a 
 position in which he would not be able to see her face. Then, re- 
 membering that it was possibly only her legs that interested him, 
 from very shame she grew nervous. Once she caught Montgomeryia 
 eyes, and not knowing what was passing in her mind, he laughed. 
 She hated him for it. But soon the cue for an exit came, and they 
 were marched into the wings. There she was jostled and stared at, 
 and she remembered, and with anger, how disgusting aU these 
 women had seemed to her wlien she stood behind the scenes for the 
 first time. Now she was one of them. 
 
 These were, however, rare moments ; there was no time for 
 thinking ; she was whirled along. Between the acts she had to rush 
 upstairs to put on another dress ; between the scenes she had to 
 watch to know when she had to go on. Sometimes Dick spoke to her, 
 but he was generally far away, and it was not until the curtain had 
 been rung down for the last time that she got an opportunity of speak- 
 ing to him. 
 
 As they walked home up the dark street when all was over, she 
 laid her hand affectionately on his arm — 
 
 " Tell me, Dick, are you satisfied with me ? I have done my best 
 to please you." 
 
 " Satisfied with you 1 " replied the big man, turning towards her 
 in his kind, imctuous way, " I should think so ; you looked lovely, 
 and your voice was heard above everybody's. I wish you had heard 
 what Montgomery said. I'll give you a line to speak when you 
 have got a bit of confidence. You are a bit timid, that's all." 
 
 These words of praise from the man she loved brought the colour 
 to Kate's face. It had been her intention to ask him to allow her 
 to give up the idea of accepting the stage as a vocation, but now, 
 through mingled feelings of vanity and disKke to interrupt the peace 
 and pleasure of the moment, she maintained a silence that grew 
 momentarily more cowardly and uneasy. Above all things, she did 
 not wish to annoy, to disappoint him, and when he spoke of the 
 
.82 A MUMMBB'S WIFE. 
 
 ;ime when she would be a leading actress, she listened delighted, 
 magining not the plaudits of the publie, but the illimitable love 
 le would bestow upon her when she had achieved the successes he 
 lad so. glowingly depicted. And of these he spoke until the early 
 lours of morning. Dick was as insatiable a talker as he was an 
 eater, and when the cold meat had been devoured, lying back in an 
 irmchair, smoking interminable cigarettes, he recounted his opera 
 bouffe adventures. They appeared to be inexhaustible, and by easy 
 bransitionS'he passed from one story to another. At one moment 
 lie was telling of how he found himself, when he had the Olympic 
 Theatre in London, two days before the opening night, unable to 
 pay the gas. At such times the difficulties of raising a hundred 
 c[uid are immense, and the conditions of the capitalist were — ^that 
 his mistress was to play one of the leading parts at a high salary, 
 a,nd that he was to take over the bars. That was thirfy pounds 
 a week gone ; and the woman sang so fearfully out of tune that she 
 got hissed, and that settled the piece. Kate clasped her hands, but 
 Dick pufifed at his cigarette, interested only to know if it were still 
 alight. Once being assured on this point, he proceeded without 
 delay to sing most of the principal airs and choruses and explain the 
 different situations. A casual reference to the dresses led up to a 
 detailed account of how he had bought the satin down at the Docks 
 a,t the extraordinarily low price of two shillings a yard. This in 
 turn prepared the way for a long story concerning a girl who had 
 worn one of these identical dresses. She was now a leading London 
 actress, and every step of her upward career was gone into. Then 
 
 followed several biograpHes. Charlie sang in the chorus. 
 
 He was now a leading tenor. Miss had married a rich man 
 
 on the Stock Exchange ; and so on. Indeed, everybody in that ill- 
 fated piece seemed to have succeeded except the manager himself. 
 But no such criticism occurred to Kate. Her heart was swollen 
 with admiration for the man who had been once at tlie head 
 of all this talent, and the rich-coloured future he would shape 
 for her flowed haady through her mind. She grew, as it were, 
 a little drunk with stories, and laying, her hand on his, all 
 suffering and past sorrow slipped from her in sensations that 
 were calm and benedictive. Never had an evening appeared to 
 her so thorough, so complete, and she looked down an endless 
 perspective of similar evenings spent listening by his side- 
 evenings in which the quietude should never be broken except by 
 the sound of a kiss or the striking of a match wherewith to light a 
 fresh cigarette. 
 
 And as the days passed, Kate grew happier, until she began to 
 think she must be the happiest woman living. Her lite had now an 
 occupation, and no hour that went pressed upon her heavier than 
 would a butterfly's wing. The mornings had always been delight- 
 ful ; Dick was with her then, and the afternoons had been taken up 
 with her musical studies. It was the long evenings she used to 
 dread ; now tJiey had become part and parcel of her daily pleasures. 
 
A MUMMER'S ■WIFB. 18S 
 
 They dined about four, and when dinner was over it was time to 
 talk about what kind of house they were going to have, to fidget 
 about in search of brushes and combs, the curling-tongs, and to con- 
 sider what little necessaries she had better bring down to the theatre 
 with her. At first it seemed very strange to her to go tripping down 
 these narrow streets at a certain hour — streets that were filled with 
 people, for the stage and the pit entrance are always within a few 
 yards of each other. 
 
 Very soon now touches of Bohemianism appeared in her. Her 
 face lost its meekness of expression, her waJk became more undu- 
 lating and lazy ; and the passers-by whispered as she went by, 
 "She's one of tixe actresses." The first time she heard the words 
 she grew frightened, but her fear soon subsided, and nervously she 
 wondered what they thought of her as sh6 hurried from them towards 
 the stage. Once safely there she often turned round to look, and 
 hoped as she gave her name, to the hall-keeper that they admired 
 her sufficiently to come to the theatre to see her. One day she 
 foimd a letter waiting for her, and not suspecting what was in it, 
 she tore open the envelope in presence of half-a-dozen chorus girls 
 who had collected in the passage. A diamond ring fell on the floor, 
 and in astonishment Kate read : 
 
 "Deab, Miss D'Aecy, — ^Ih recognition of your beauty and the 
 graceful way in which you play your part, I beg to enclose you a 
 ring, which I hope to see on your finger to-night. If you wear it 
 on the right hand I shall understand that you will allow me to wait 
 for you at the stage-door. If, however, you decide that my little 
 offering suits better your left hand, I shall understand that I am 
 unfortunate. 
 
 (Signed) " An Admibee." 
 
 " Who left this here ? " asked Kate of the doorkeeper. 
 
 " A tall young gent — a London man I should think by the cut of 
 him, but he left no name." 
 
 " A very pretty ring, anyhow," said a girl picking it up. 
 
 "Not bad," said another; "I got one like it last year at 
 Sheffield." 
 
 " Put what shall I do with it? " asked Kate. 
 
 "Why, wear it, of course," answered two or three voices simul- 
 taneously. 
 
 This very simple way of settling the difficulty horrified her, and 
 feeling veiy much like one in possession of stolen goods, she hurried 
 on to the stage, intending to ask Dick what she was to do. She 
 found him disputing with the property-man. Throwing herself 
 between them, and drawing her lover by main force away, she begged 
 of him to advise her. But it was some time before Dick could bring 
 himself to forget the annoyance that a scarcity of daggers had occa- 
 sioned him. At last, however, with a violent effijrt of will, he tox)k 
 the note from her hand and read it through. When he had mastered 
 
184 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 its contents a good-natured smile illumined his chub-cheeked face, 
 luid he said : 
 
 " Well, what do you want to say ? I think the ring a very nice 
 one ; let's see how it looks on your hand." 
 
 She felt as if her life was sinking away from her. Was this all 1 
 Was there then notlung wrong or right in the world ? she asked 
 herself, feebly. 
 
 " You don't mean, do you, that I am to wear it 3" 
 
 "And why not? I think it is a very nice ring," said the manager, 
 unaffectedly. 
 
 "Why not, indeed?" she murmvured to herself, and so stunned 
 was she that in her bewilderment she would have asked him on 
 which hand she was to wear it had he not said : 
 
 " Wear it first on one hand and then on the other, dear ; that 
 will puzzle him." 
 
 " But supposing he comes to meet me at the stage door ? " 
 
 " Well, what will that matter ? We'll go out together ; I'll see 
 that he keeps his distance." 
 
 Believed to find that there was a point which she was not asked 
 to pass, she went up to the dressing-room. A voUey of questions 
 greeted her. Most of the girls were undressed. I)olly_ Groddsird 
 was walking about in a pair of blue silk stockings. Obejring an in- 
 stinct of shame which habit did not seem able to destroy, Kate 
 started as if she were about to retreat. 
 
 "Now then, come in, don't be shocked," cried Dolly ; "you are 
 as bashful as an undergraduate." 
 
 A roar of laughter greeted tliis sally, and, humiliated, she began 
 to dress. 
 
 "You haven't heard Dolly's story of the undergraduate?'' shouted 
 a girl from the other end of the room. 
 
 " No, and don't want to,'' replied Kate, indignantly. " The con- 
 versation in this room is perfectly horrible. I shall ask Mr. Len- 
 nox to change me. And really. Miss Groddard, I think you might 
 manage to dress yourself with a little more decency. " 
 
 "Well, if you call this dress," exclaimed Dolly, fanning herself, 
 " I suppose one must take off one's stockings to please you. You 
 are as bad as — " 
 
 Dolly was the wit of No. 6 dressing-room, and having obtained 
 her laugh she sought to conciliate Kate. To achieve this she began 
 by putting on her tights. 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Lennox," she said, "don't be angry; if I have a 
 good figure I can't help it. And I do want to hear about the 
 diamond ring." 
 
 This was said so quaintly, so, what the Americans would 
 call cunningly, that Kate couldn't help smiling through her 
 anger, and abandoning her hand she allowed DoUy to examine the 
 ring. 
 
 " I never saw anything prettier in my life. It wasn't an under- 
 gra — 1 " said the girl, who was a low comedian at heart and knew 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 185 
 
 the value of repetition. "1 must drink to his Jiealth. Who has 
 any liquor ? Have you, Vincent ? " 
 
 "Just a drain left," said a fat girl, pulling a flat bottle out of a 
 dirty black skirtj "but I'm going to keep it for the end of the 
 second act." 
 
 " Selfishness will be your ruin," said Dolly. " Let's subscribe to 
 drink the gentleman's health," die added, winking at the bevy of 
 damsels who stood waiting, their hands on their hips. It being 
 impossible for Kate to misunderstand what was expected of her she 
 said — 
 
 " I shall be very glad to stand treat. What shall it be ? " 
 
 This was a difficult matter to decide. Some were in favour of 
 brandy, some of gin. Eventually it was agreed that they could not 
 do better than a bottle of wlusky. The decrepit dresser was 
 given the money, with strict injunctions from Dolly not to un- 
 cork the bottle. " We can do that ourselves," the girl added, face- 
 tiously. And until the arrival of the liquor a noisy interest was 
 manifested in the ring, the sender, and the letter. Kate told what 
 Dick had advised her to do, and DoUy spoke authoritatively on 
 the invariable line of conduct pursued by Beaumont in such cases. 
 But this clatter and talk did not silence Kate's qualms of conscience. 
 The method of an antecedent life, the teaching of years, rose in re- 
 volution and denied her right to act thus. For a moment a sense 
 of shame, bitter and blinding as a wild salt wind, overwhelmed her, 
 and she could not repress a positive loathing of herself. Since she 
 had left Hanley it was the strongest shock her moral nature had 
 received. Yainly she searched for an excuse, but could find 
 none. It was not until she had drunk a couple of whiskys that she 
 began to forget aiud find courage to laugh at Dolly's dirty stories. 
 The number of glasses was not sufficient, but that did not matter, 
 and the merriment did not cease until the call-boy was heard crying, 
 "Ladies, ladies! Mr. Lennox is waiting on the stage." Then there 
 was a scramble for the glass and the dresser, and Dolly's voice was 
 heard screaming — 
 
 " Now then. Mother Hubbard, have you got the sweetstuff I told 
 you to get 1 I don't want to go downstairs stinking of raw spirit." 
 
 "I couldn't get any," said the old woman, " but I brought two 
 slices of bread ; that'll do as well." 
 
 " You're a knowing old card," said DoUy. " Eat a mouthful or 
 two, it'U take the smell off, Mrs. Lennox. But I'm afraid you've 
 had a drop too much. You aren't used to it. Open the window. 
 Mother Hubbard." 
 
 " It is the heat," answered Kate faintly. "I shall be all right in 
 a minute." 
 
 " For goodness sake, do. Mr. Lennox will kick up such a row 
 with me should he find it out. Eat another piece of bread if you 
 can, there's nothing like it." 
 
 At present Kate was only a little giddy, but when she got on the 
 stage, with the fumes of the gas, a vague sickness mounted to her 
 
186 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 head. Montgomery's arms, as he beat time in the orchestra, 
 seemed to her of immeasurable length, and the auditorium reeled, 
 a confused mixture of lights and black spots. The music sounded 
 in her ears like some harsh cruelty, and at times the voices of those 
 singing round her became as unmerciful as the howling of demons 
 mocking her out of the depths of some meaningless nightmare. 
 Each clash of the cymbals seemed more pitiless than the last, and 
 she had at last to stagger into the wings and ask for a glass of water. 
 Fortunately, Dick was on the O. P. side, and did not notice her 
 absence, and beyond some sly laughs and whispering among the 
 girls, the accident attracted no attention. Whether she wore the 
 ring on her left or on her right hand she had no idea, and when 
 Dick asked during their walk home if she had noticed anyone 
 watching her from a stage-box, she could give no answer. But it 
 mattered little ; a few days later she was a hundred mUes away, 
 playing to new faces and attracting fresh admirations. The incident 
 consequent to a theatrical career was soon blunted and its identity 
 submerged in a thousand other events, and the most lastuig trace 
 it left was the ambition to become an actress. The phrase of the 
 letter which complimented her on the graceful way in which she 
 went through her part remained in Kate's mind, and henceforth she 
 did not cease to beg of Dick to give her " something to do." 
 
 It is extraordinary to see how quickly a lady gets on in her pro- 
 fession when she has convinced the heads of the departments of 
 her talents or her beauty. The way in which subordinate parts are 
 discovered that would just suit her is surprising. To this principle 
 Dick and Montgomery proved no exceptions. Soon it became ap- 
 parent that tlie first scene in Les Gloches played very short, a few 
 extra lines written into it to be spoken by one of the girls would 
 improve it vastly. The scrip was obtained from the prompter, 
 Montgomery invited to supper, and until three in the morning he 
 and Dick collaborated. Kate sat in the armchair and wondered. 
 
 What can she say to the Baillie ? The scene is the sea-shore near 
 Oomeville ; they are on their way to the market. 
 
 " Supposing she said something like this, eh ? ' Mr. Baillie, do you 
 like brown eyes and cherry lips ? ' And then another would reply, 
 ' Cherry brandy most like.' " 
 
 " No, I don't think the public — ^you must remember we are not 
 playing to a London public — would see the point. I think we'd 
 better have something broader." 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 " Well, you remember the scene in Chilperic when — " 
 In the explanation of the scene in Chilperic the conversation 
 wandered, and Mr. Diprose's version of the piece and his usual vile 
 taste in the stage management severely commented on. In such 
 pleasant discussion an hour was agreeably spent ; but at last the 
 sudden ^extinguishing of a cigarette reminded them that they had 
 met for the purpose of writing some dialogue. After a long silence 
 Dick said — 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE 187 
 
 " Supposing she were to say, ' Mr. Baillie, you have a fine head.' 
 Vou know I want something she'd get a laugh with. " 
 
 "If she said the truth, she'd say a fat head," replied Montgomery 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " And why shouldn't she ? That's the very thing. She's sure to 
 get a laugh with that — 'Mr. Baillie, you have a fat head.' Let's 
 get that down first. But what shall she say after ? " 
 
 Here both authors came to an embarrassing pause, and in silence 
 they ransacked their memories of all the opera bouffes they had seen 
 for a joke which could be fitted to the one they had just discovered. 
 
 After some five minutes of deep consideration, Dick, wearied by 
 the unaccustomed mental strain put upon his mind, said : 
 
 " Do you know the music of IVowe .D'Ecosse .? Devihsh good. If 
 the book had been better it would have been a big success." 
 
 " The waltz is about the prettiest thing Herv6 has done.'' 
 
 This expression of opinion led up to an animated discussion, in 
 which the rival claims of Herv6 and Planquette were forcibly argued. 
 Many cigarettes were smoked, and not untU the packet was emptied 
 did it occur to them that, up to the present, only one " wheeze " had 
 been found. 
 
 " I never can do anything without a cigarette ; do try to find me 
 one in the next room, Kate, dear. Listen, Montgomery, we have 
 got 'Baillie, you've a fat head.' That'll do very well for a beginning ; 
 but I'm not good at finding wheezes." 
 
 "And then I can say, ' Baillie, you've a fine head,'" said 
 E^te, who had been listening dreamily for a long time, airaid to 
 interrupt. 
 
 ' ' Not a bad idea, " said Dick. ' ' Let's get it down. " 
 " And then," screamed Montgomery, as he perched both his long 
 legs over the arm of his chair, " she can say, ' I mean a great head, 
 Mr. BaiUie.'" 
 
 For a moment Dick's eyes flashed with the light of admiration, and 
 he seemed to be considering if it were not his duty to advise the 
 conductor that his talents lay in dialogue rather than in music. But 
 his sentiments, whatever they may have been, disappeared in the 
 burst of inspiration he had been waiting for so long. 
 
 "We can go through the whole list of heads," he exclaimed 
 triumphantly. " Fat head, fine head,' broad head, thick head, mas- 
 sive head — ^yes, massive head. The Baillie will appear pleased at 
 that, and will repeat the phrase, and then she will say ' Dunder head ! ' 
 He'll get angry, and she will run away. That will make a splendid 
 exit — she'll exit to a roar." 
 
 Kate raised and cast down her brown eyes softly, and her 
 heart was filled with a mixed sense of admiration and wonder. 
 It seemed to her extraordinary that a man should do so much, and 
 for her. 
 
 Dick noted down the phrases on a piece of paper, to be pasted 
 afterwards into the scrip. When this was done, he said : 
 
 " My dear, if you don't get_a roar with these lines, you can call 
 
JW8 A MtTMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 me a And when we play the piece at Hull, I shouldn't be sur- 
 prised if you got noticed in the papers. But you mu&t pluck up 
 courage and cheek the Baillie." 
 
 Kate said nothing, but she felt unutterable things, and a vision 
 of greatness assuaged the suspicion that too much was being asked 
 of her. 
 
 " We must put up a rehearsal-call to-morrow for these lines. 
 Now listen, Montgomery, and tell me how it reads." 
 
189 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Reheaksai to-morrow at twelve for all those in the front scene of 
 the GlocAes," cried the stage-door keeper to half-a-dozen girls as 
 they pushed past him. 
 
 " Well I never, and I was going out to see the castle and the 
 ramparts of the town," said one girl. 
 
 "I wonder what it's for," said another ; "it went all right, I 
 thought — didn't you ? Did you hear any reason, Mr. Brown V " 
 
 "I 'ear there are to be new lines put in," replied the stage-door 
 keeper, surlily, " but I don't know. Don't boi3ier." 
 
 At the mention of the new lines the faces of the girls brightened, 
 but instantly they strove to hide the hope and anxiety the announce- 
 ment had caused them, and in the silence which ensued each tried 
 to think how she could get a word with Mr. Lennox. At length 
 one more enterprisirg than the rest said : 
 
 " I must run back. I've forgotten my handkerchief." 
 
 " You needn't mind your handkerchief, you won't see Mr. Lennbx 
 to-night," exclaimed Dolly, who always trampled on other people's 
 illusions as readUy as she did on her own. 
 
 The brutality of the answer caused a titter, but it soon subsided, 
 everybody being anxious to hear the news, for Dolly's tone of voice 
 intimated that she knew what was going to happen. Dispelling the 
 angiy look from the face of the girl she had attacked by putting her 
 arm aflfectionately roimd her shoulder, DoUy continued : 
 
 " The lines are not for you, nor me, nor any of us. You little 
 silly, can't you see who they are for ? Why, for his girl, of course ! " 
 
 Murmurs of assent followed this statement, and, her hands on her 
 hips, Dolly triumphantly faced her auditors. 
 
 "I know it is damned hard lines, but there it is. You didn't 
 expect the man to take her out of her linendrapery for nothing. 
 You take my word for it, she'll get on now like a house on fire." 
 
 The old stage-door keeper, whose attention had been concentrated 
 on what he was eating out of a jam-pot, now suddenly woke up to 
 the fact that the passage was blocked, and thai a group of musicians 
 with boxes in their hands were waiting to get tlirough. 
 
 " Now, ladies, I must ask you to move on, there are a lot of people 
 behind you." 
 
 " Yes, get on, girls ; we're all up a tree this time, and the moral 
 of it. is that we haven't yet learnt how to fall in love with the 
 
190 A mrMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 managers. The paper-collar woman has beaten us at our own 
 game." 
 
 A roar of laughter foDowed this remark, which was heard by 
 everybody, and pushing the girls before her Dolly cleared the way. 
 Notwithstanding her distaste for, her determined opposition to the 
 dirty stories told in the dressing-room, and her continued refusal to 
 contribute an item of information to the eternal question of " Who 
 was the nicest man you ever knew," Kate's quiet and unmarked 
 character had made her a general favourite. Except on the point 
 above mentioned, she inclined easily to everybody's whims and 
 foibles ; she appeared ever ready to oblige, and she made no dis- 
 agreeable remarks. At first, it is true, her pretty face caused some 
 cruel bickerings, but the unassuming way in which she rather 
 repudiated than accepted admiration softened the acidity of feminine 
 jealousies, and the fact that she was not ill-looking finished by being 
 gracefully accepted. She, moreover, was possessed of the soft, 
 weak features that women invariably admire in their own sex. This 
 was another recommendation in her favour, and as she never inter- 
 fered with any of the men who came about the theatre, it had become 
 the fashion, when the question was mooted, as to who could be called 
 a really pretty woman, to cite Kate as an example. But she now found 
 that she had jeopardised her popularity by accepting the small part of 
 Jeanne. These girls, whose ambitions in life are limited, first to 
 obtaining a line — ^that is to say, permission to shout, in their red 
 tights, when the low comedian appears on the stage, " Oh, what a 
 jolly good fellow the Duke is ! " — secondly, to being asked out to 
 dinner by somebody they imagine looks Hke a gentleman, revolted 
 against hearing this paper-collar woman, as they now called her, 
 speak the long-dreamed-of, long-descried plirases ; and at night all 
 they dared do they did to "queer" her scene. They crowded 
 round her, mugged, and tried to divert the attention of the house 
 from her. She had to say, "Mr. BaUlie, you've a fine head." 
 BailUe, patting his crown — "Yes, a fine head." Kate — "A tat 
 head." BailUe, indignantly — "A fat head!" Kate, hurriedly— 
 "I mean a broad head." Baillie — "Yes, a broad head.'' Kate— 
 "A thick head." Baillie, indignantly — "A liiick head!" Kate 
 — "No, no ; a solid head," and so on ad lib: for ten minutes. 
 
 The scene went enormously. The pit screamed, and the gallery 
 was in convulsions, and next day in the streets nothing was heard 
 but ironical references to fat and thick heads. The girls had not 
 succeeded in spoiling the scene, for, encouraged by the applause, 
 Kate had chaffed and mocked at the Baillie so vigorously and wittily 
 that she at once won the sympathy of the house. But the following 
 night a tall, sour-faced girl, who wore pads, and with whom Kate 
 had had some words concerning her coarse language, hit upon an 
 ingenious device for interfering with her success. It consisted in 
 bursting into a roar of laughter just before she had time to say, " A 
 fat head." The others soon tumbled to the trick, and in a night or 
 two they worked so well together that Kate grew so nervous that 
 
A MUMMER'S "WIFE. 191 
 
 she could not speak her lines. This made her feel very miserable ; 
 and her stage experience being limited, she ascribed her non-suc- 
 cess to her own favdt, until one night Dick rushed, the moment the 
 curtain was down at the end of the first act, into the middle of the 
 stage. Putting up his arms with a large gesture, he called the com- 
 pany back. 
 
 ' ' Ladies and gentlemen, " he said, ' ' 1 have noticed that the front 
 scene in this act has not been going as well as it used to. I don't 
 want anyone to tell me why ^s is so ; the reason is sufficiently 
 obvious, at least to me. I shall expect, therefore, the ladies whom 
 this matter concerns to attend a rehearsal to-morrow at twelve, 
 and if after that I notice what I did to-night, I shall at once 
 dismiss the delinquents from the company. I hope I make myself 
 understood." 
 
 After this explanation, any further interference with Kate's scene 
 was, of course, out of the question, and the verdict of each new town 
 more and more firmly established its success. But if Dick's presence 
 controlled the girls whilst they were on the stage, his authority 
 d imin ished as it ascended to the dressing-rooms, and many were the 
 expedients there resorted to to annoy Kate. Her particular enemy 
 was DoUy Goddard. Not a night passed that this girl did not refer 
 to the divorce cases she -had read of in the papers, or pretended to 
 have heard of. Her natural sharp wit enabled her to do this with 
 considerable acidity. " Never heard such a thing in my life, girls," 
 she would begin. " They talk of us, but what we do is child's play 
 compared with the doings of the respectable people. A baker's wife 
 in this blessed town has just run away with the editor of a news- 
 paper, leaving her six little children, one of them being a baby no 
 more than a month old, behind her." 
 
 " What wUl the husband do ? " 
 
 " Get a divorce." (Chorus — '' He'll get a divorce, of course, of 
 course, of course ! ") 
 
 To thi? delicate irony no answer was possible, and Kate could only 
 bite her hps, and pretend not to mideratand. But it was difficult 
 not to turn pale and tremble sometimes, so agonising were the anec- 
 dotes that the active brain of Dolly conjured up concerning the 
 atrocities that pursuing husbands had perpetrated with knife and 
 pistol on the betrayers of their happiness. And when these scare- 
 crows failed, there were always the dirty stories to fall back upon. 
 A word sufficed to set the whole gang recounting experiences, and 
 comparing notes. Often a sneer curled the comers of Kate's lips, 
 but to protest she knew would be only to expose herself to a rude 
 answer, and to appeal to Dick couldn't fail to excite stUl further 
 enmity against her. Besides, what could he do ? How could he 
 define what were and what were not proper conversations for the 
 dressing-rooms ? Clearly, the best thing for her to do was to ask 
 him to put her to dress with the principals, and this she decided to 
 do one evening when the words used in No. 6 had been more than 
 usually warm. 
 
192 A MUMMER'S WIFE. ' 
 
 Dick, of course, made no objection, and with Leslie and Beaumont 
 Kate got on better. 
 
 "I am so glad you have come," said Leslie, as she bent to allow 
 the dresser to place a wreath of orange-blossoms on her head. "I 
 wonder you didn't think of asking Mr. Lennox to put you with us 
 before." 
 
 " I didn't like to. I was afraid of being in your way,'' said Kate, 
 as she examined with a circular look the blank whitewash, the over- 
 filled slop-pail, and the naked gas-jet. "I hope Beaumont won't 
 mind my being here." 
 
 ' ' What matter if she does ? Beaumont isn't half a bad sort 
 once you begin to understand her. Just let her talk to you about 
 her diamonds and her men, and it will be all right." 
 
 "But why haven't you been to see me lately? I want you to 
 come out shopping with me one day next week. We shall be at 
 York. I hear you can get some nice things there.'' 
 
 " Yes, there are some nice shops there. I would have been to see 
 you before, but Frank has just got some new scores from London, 
 and he wanted me to try them over with him. There's one that's 
 just been produced in Paris — the loveliest music you ever heard in all 
 your life. Come up to my place to-morrow and I'll play it over to 
 you. But talking of music, I hear that you are gettingon splendidly." 
 " 1 think I'm improving ; Montgomery comes to practice with me 
 every morning." 
 
 " He's all very well for the piano, but he can't teach you to pro- 
 duce your voice. What does he know ? That brat of a boy I I'll 
 tell you what I'll do," cried Leslie, suddenly confronting Kate, 
 " we're going to York next week. Well, I'll introduce you to a flrst- 
 rate man. He'd do more with you in six lessons than Montgomery 
 in fifty. And the week after we shall be at Leeds. I can introduce 
 you to another there." 
 
 " The curtain is just going up. Miss Leslie," cried the call-boy. 
 "All right," cried the prima donna, throwing the hare's foot to 
 the dres'ser. " I must be oflf now. We'll talk of this to-morrow." 
 Immediately after the stately figure of Beaumont entered. Put- 
 ting her black bag down with a thump on the table she exclaimed: 
 "Good heavens 1 not dressed yet ! My God ! you'll be late." 
 "Late for what?" asked Kate in astonishment. 
 " Didn't Mr. Lennox tell you that you had to sing my song, the 
 market woman's song, in the first act ? " 
 " No, I heard nothing of it." 
 
 " Then for goodness sake make haste. Here, stick your face out. 
 I'll do your make-up while the dresser laces you. But you'll be 
 able to manage the song, won't you ? It is quite impossible for me 
 to get dressed in time. I can't understand Mr. Lennox not having! 
 told you." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I shall be able to get through it — at least I hope so," 
 Kate answered, trembling with the sudden excitement of the news. 
 " I think I know all the words except the encore verse." 
 
A MUiliUiSKS Wll<J!i. 
 
 " Oh, you won't need that," said Beaumont, betrayed by a twinge 
 if professional jealousy. "Now tvu-n the other cheek. By Jove, 
 7e've no tjme to lose j they are Just finishing the wedding chorus, 
 f you're late it won't be my fault. I sent down word to the theatre 
 o ask if you would sing my song in the first act, as I had some 
 rienda coming down from London to see me. You know the 
 Harquis of Worthing — ^has been a friend of mine for years. That'll 
 to for the left eye." 
 
 "If you put out your leg a little further I'll pull on your stock- 
 ng, and then you'll be all right," said the dresser. 
 
 This was done in a jifiey, and just staying a moment to pull up 
 ler garters in a sort of nervous trance, she rushed on to the stage, 
 bUowed into the wings by Beaumont, who had come to hear how 
 he song would go. 
 
 It was a complete success, and from an enthusiastic pit she got a 
 louble encore. 
 
 These little triumphs encouraged Kate more than ever to take Miss 
 Leslie's advice ; stnd in no town they visited where the advantages 
 )f musical instruction could be obtained did she neglect to avail 
 lerself of the chance. Montgomery was at first inclined to jealously 
 •esent the interference of other masters, but all the objections he 
 lad to offer were steadily overruled by Dick. And he, more than 
 inyone, urged her to continue her studies. In matters of money 
 le remained as heedlessly generous as ever. "Your lessons cost 
 rou three pounds, dear ? Very well, here's five quid," he would 
 lay, pulling a lot of loose sovereigns out of his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 " But what am I to do with the rest ? " 
 
 "You are sure to want it. Buy yourself some gloves, or a new 
 lat." 
 
 She felt that she would never bo able to repay him for his 
 cindness. She experienced the most delicious intervals of love, 
 ind her heart was over-filled with sensations of gratitude. In- 
 leed, unless the familiarity, the spoony ways of which he seemed 
 mable to divest himself in speaking to a woman, bo pleaded against 
 lim, his conduct towards her was irreproachable. But the con- 
 liderateness he showed on all other points rendered this frailty the 
 Qore noticeable, and in all Kate's examinations of conscience pushed 
 t into irritating prominence. Yet it was only natural that doubt 
 hould grow upon her. The constant presence, the very odour of 
 kirts in which they lived, was revolting to think of, and daily the 
 lesire to possess him beyond the power, the assailing temptation o 
 ny woman, became an increasing want in her mind. 
 
 The continual nerve-excitement in which she lived, the rich diet, 
 he brandies and sodas supped in the dressing-rooms, the constant 
 ;ratification of bodily pleasure, combined to produce in her naturally 
 ilacid nature violent revolts and demands for passionate outbursts. 
 )f ten at her music lesson she would grind her little teeth ; a sudden 
 bought would strike her that he had taken advantage of her absence 
 o go round and see one of the girls. Then, again, under her very 
 
 o 
 
194 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 eyes, before the curtain had gone up, when the girls were 
 assembled on the stage, he would put his arm round the shoulders 
 of some girl who had come to ask him a question. These were 
 moments in which a little childish rage boiled like a, kettle witliin 
 her, and she would clench her hands, and a mad instinct of scratch- 
 ing awoke in the muscles of her arms. Bitterly, too, at night, when 
 they got home after the theatre, she used to reproach him ; and what 
 annoyed her even more than the fact itself, was the absolute uncon- 
 sciousness he always displayed of having ever done anything wrong. 
 At last, exasperated by the eternal " My dear, I don't remember," 
 she seized him by the fuzzy hair, and pulled untU the tears came into 
 his eyes. It was, however, half in fun, and Kate burst out laugh- 
 ing soon after ; but Dick, unobservant as he was, could not help 
 looking at her in astonishment. The change that had come over her 
 since she left Hanley was apparent. Physically, the change was for 
 the better. Her cheeks were fuller, the lines of her face softer ; , 
 her eyes had become less monotonous in colour, and more provoking 
 in expression : and she smiled more readily. Psychologically, the 
 change was even more marked. The broad, simple lines on wliich 
 her views of life and things had formerly been ba^ed, had become 
 twisted, broken, and confused ; her tastes were now more complex 
 and her desires more febrile. Even her principles of honesty had 
 become shaken. Anecdotes of clever swindles no longer wounded 
 her feelings ; she now listened to and laughed at them with the rest. 
 The middle-class woman, in a word, had disappeared, and the Bo- 
 hemian taken her place ; and had it not been for the anger with 
 which she repulsed all levity of conversation, and the cold way she 
 frowned upon the spicey little stories, the delight of theatrical 
 supper-tables, the closest scrutiny might have failed to find a clue 
 wherewith to trace her back to her origin. But regarding the moral 
 question, she seemed daily to grow more severe, and many were the 
 disputes Kate and Dick had on the subject. I'or the smallest tiling 
 said in her presence she would challenge him with not respecting 
 her. And it was amusing to watch the poor good-natured creature, 
 who neither respected nor disrespected any living thing, but lived 
 only for the enjoyment of the moment, striving to lead the conver- 
 sation away from dangerous ground. Beaumont and Mortimer 
 often made this extremely difficult for him, and when they met at 
 dinner or supper Dick's attempts at steering a clear way through the 
 sticky suggestiveness of their allusions recced often the struggles 
 of a bluebottle threading his way out of a spider's web. For, besides 
 maintaining a tight rein over his own tongue, he was likewise made 
 responsible for the conduct of others, and expected, on the first sus- 
 picion of impropriety, to call the offender to account. This was, as 
 may be easily imagined, not too facile a task, and often placed Dick 
 in a somewhat ludicrous position. But Kate forced obedience upon 
 him. Out of her former placid nature had arisen a, perky little 
 spirit, which, although it sometimes worried, was not without charm 
 for her soft-hearted lover. Little as he cared for the opinions of 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 195 
 
 others, he could not help feeling proud of her, and the novelty of 
 seeing her assert herself pleased him. Was he not enjoying the 
 society of a second woman whose existence till now he had not sus- 
 pegted ? This dose of authoritative self-reliance had been intro- 
 duced into her character ; first, by the fact that she was now a 
 divorced woman ; secondly, by the fact that she was now earning 
 two pounds a week, and received nightly a round of public applause. 
 The news of the decree nisihad, of course, suggested many thoughts 
 for the future, and had frightened her considerably. But in the 
 reflections and analysis of her life which these fears forced upon her, 
 it became gradually clear to her that she was not such a very unim- 
 portant person after all. She was getting on with her music ; she 
 could play most things, and sing a little at sight, and everybody said 
 that, when she got a part, that she would mate a success of it. 
 Besides, she was admired more than any one in the company. At 
 this point, however, Kate's thoughts came always to a sudden stop. 
 What was vaguely floating in her mind was that she had only to make 
 a choice to get any man she liked ; but the morality of years inter- 
 vening, she shrank from defining her thoughts. A wave of sup- 
 pressed pride would sweep up through her soul, and with a flush in 
 her cheeks she remembered that she was, after all, the honestest 
 woman in the theatre. She admitted that she had deserted her 
 husband for another man. It was very wicked, that she knew ; but 
 she could not help herself. They should have been kinder to her 
 than they had been at home. Her husband had never really loved 
 
 her, and her mother-in-law . But she could not bring herself, 
 
 even in thought, to abuse Mrs. Ede, and in preference' it pleased 
 her to -think how great was her love for Dick. If she was living 
 with a man to whom she was not married, it was because she cared 
 for him. Kate clung resolutely to this last fleeting remnant of her 
 past life, and for this reason she passionately — even at the risk of 
 making herself unpopular — could not refrain from asserting her 
 claims to the title of an honest woman ; and this, and an overmas- 
 tering desire to succeed in her profession, were the two things that 
 now occupied her mind. In speculations as to when she would ob- 
 tain a part, her jealousy was forgotten, and for the time being her 
 lover was spared many bitter recriminations. Nevertheless, she 
 grumbled very much at having nothing to do. When her ' little 
 scene with the BaUlie was over, she had to walk aimlessly about with 
 the rest of the chorus. In Madame Angot she hadn't a line ; after 
 her success with the fishwife's song, Beaumont took good care not 
 to give her another chance. Every night this matter was discussed, 
 but Dick could not, as he said, sack the principals. All sorts of 
 expedients were suggested, even to the possibility of mounting a 
 new opera — a proposition much approved of by Montgomery ; but 
 nothing could be agreed on save ttie advisability of Kate setting to 
 work to understudy Miss Leslie. 
 
 "Kate could play Serpolette as it was never played before," ex- 
 claimed Dick, who believed implicitly in her talent. 
 
96 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " And I'll engage that she does,'' cried Mont 
 ip the score to-morrow and we'll have a go at it." 
 
 Once begun, the studies proceeded gaily. Apparently deeply in- 
 erested, in the somnolent beatitude of the morning hours, Dick lay 
 jack, smoking perpetual cigarettes in the armchair. Montgomery 
 lammered with nervous vigour at the piano ; Kate stood by his side, 
 ler soul burning in the ardours of her task. She would have pre- 
 'erred the part of Germaine ; it would have better suited her mild 
 lemeanour than the frisky Serpolette ; but in vain it seemed to 
 lope for illness or any accident that would prevent Beaumont from 
 ilaying. They could only suggest that Leslie was often imprudent, 
 md praying for a bronchial visitation they watched at night to see 
 low she was wrapped up. 
 
 When Kate knew the music a rehearsal was called for her to go 
 ;hrough the business, and it was then that the long-smouldering 
 ndignation broke out against her. In the first place the girl who 
 ;l11 now had been entrusted with the understudy, and had likewise 
 ived in the hopes of coughs and colds, burst into floods of passionate 
 lears and storms of violent words. She attacked Kate vigorously ; 
 ind the scene was doubly unpleasant, as it took place in the presence 
 )f everybody. The most remorseless references were made to dying 
 md deserted husbands, and all the acridness of the chorus-girl was 
 igueezed into allusions anent the Divorce Court. This was as dis- 
 igreeable for Dick as for Kate. The rehearsal had to be dismissed, 
 md the lady in question was sent back to London. Sympathy at 
 irst ran very strongly on the side of the weak, and the ladies of 
 ;he theatre were united in their efforts to make it as disagreeable as 
 possible for Kate. She bore up, however, courageously ; and after 
 I time her continual refusal to again rehearse the part won a re- 
 lotion^ in her favour ; and when Miss Leslie's coid began to grow 
 ff^orse, and it became clear tliat some one must understudy Serpo- 
 lette, the part fell without opposition to her share. 
 
 And now every minute of the day was given to learning 
 5r thinking out in her inner consciousness some portion of her 
 part. In the middle of her breakfast she would hurriedly lay 
 iown her cup with a clink in the saucer and say, " Look here, 
 Dick ; tell me how I am to do that run in — my first entrance, 
 ^ou know." 
 
 " What are your words, dear ? " 
 
 " ' Who speaks ill of Serpolette ? ' " 
 
 The breakfast-table would then be pushed out of the way and the 
 sntrance rehearsed. Dick seemed never to get tired, and the run 
 iras practised over and over again. Coming home from the theatre 
 it night, it was always a question of this effect and that efiect ; of 
 (whether Leslie might not have scored a point if she had accentuated 
 the lifting of her skirt in the famous song. 
 
 That was, as Dick declared, the "number of grip;" and often, 
 it two o'clock in the morning, just as she was getting into bed, Kate 
 irould, in her chemise, begin to sing — 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 197 
 
 ' ' Look at me here ! look at me there ! 
 Criticise me everywhere ! 
 From head to feet I am most sweet. 
 And most perfect and complete." 
 
 But, above all, there was a scene in the first act in which Serpo- 
 lette had to run screaming with laughter away from her cross old 
 uncle, Gaspard, and dodge him, hiding behind the Baillie and his 
 clerk. To do this efiectively required a certain chic, a gaiety, which 
 Kate did not seem able to summon up ; and therein lay the .weak 
 place in her rendering of the part. " You're all right for a minute, 
 and then you sober down into a Germaine," Dick would say, at the 
 end of a long and critical conversation. And for days this judg- 
 ment formed the theme of Kate's ruminations. Thinking it cannot 
 be called, but in the efforts of her intelligence to generate in her- 
 self and give birth to the being indicated by the draipatist, she 
 mentally transported herself to scenes of artificial pleasure — scenes 
 in which she was surrounded by lovers who, drinking wine from 
 goblets of gold, crowned her with roses and maddened her with 
 laughter. Thus she divined a wild gaiety, as in the murmuring of 
 a sea-shell we hear the wash of the sea ; and far away saw, as we 
 see reflections in deep waters, flying figures and floating hair, in the 
 middle of which kisses were snatched. 
 
 The business she learned to' " parrot; " Dick taught her the 
 gestures and the intonations of voice to be used, and after she had 
 had a glass of wine, he said he would back her to go through the 
 part quite as well as Leslie. 
 
 Leslie 1 The word was now constantly in their minds. Would 
 her cold get worse or better ? was the question discussed the most 
 frequently between Dick, Kate, and Montgomery. Sometimes it 
 was better, sometimes worse ; but at last at the moment of their 
 greatest despondency the welcome news came that she had slipped 
 downstairs and sprained her foot badly. 
 
 " Oh, the poor thing ! " said E^ate ; " I'm so sorry. Had I known 
 
 that was '\ 
 
 "Was goii^ to happen you wouldn't have learnt the part," ex- 
 claimed Mon^omery, with his loud, vacant laugh. 
 
 Answering him with an angry glance, she cast down her eyes, 
 and beat her foot impatiently on the ground. After a long silence 
 she said, " I shall go and see her." 
 
 " You'd much better run through your music with Montgomery, 
 and mind not to forget to see the dresser about your dress. And, 
 for God's sake, do try and put a bit of gaiety into the part. Serpo- 
 lette is a bit of a romp, you know." 
 
 "Try to. put a bit of gaiety into the part,'' rang in Kate's ears 
 unceasingly. It haunted her as she took in the waist of Leslie's 
 dress, while she leaned over Montgomery's shoulder at the piano 
 or Ustened to his conversation. He was enthusiastic, and she 
 thought it very pretty of him to say, "I am glad to have had a 
 
198 A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 
 
 share in your first success. No one ever forgets that ; that's sure 
 to be remembered." 
 
 It was the nearest thing to a profession of love he had ever made, 
 but she was preoccupied with other thoughts, and had to send him 
 away for a last time to study the dialogue before the glass. 
 
 " Try to put a little gaiety into the part. Serpolette is a romp, 
 you know." 
 
 " Tes, a romp ; but what is a romp ! " Kate asked herself ; and 
 she strove to realise in detail that which she had accepted tiU now 
 in outline. The first thing to be done was to get rid of her gloom ; 
 and feeling angry like one who has started at a shadow, she went 
 over to the cupboard, took out a decanter, and drank a couple of 
 glasses of sherry. The stimulant had the desired effect. Gaily she 
 skipped now from the graver scenes of her married life which had 
 irritated her to reminiscences of factory boys and girls. larking to- 
 gether ; to recollections of village f Stes ; to all things that would 
 fielp her to attune her thoughts to the sentiments of the three 
 flours to be passed in the day of the footlights and the shadow of 
 painted trees. The struggle was a hard one, but it was on this 
 evening, more than any other, that she freed herself from the weight 
 of ten years of work which pressed upon her, and trod the heaviest 
 bread on the head of her anterior life. 
 
199 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Hayes, who had much against 
 his will been pushed before the curtain of the Theatre Royal, 
 Bristol, to make the following statement, " I am sorry to inform 
 you that in consequence of indisposition — that is to say, the acci- 
 dental spraining of her ankle — ^Miss Leslie wUl not be able to ap- 
 pear to-night. Your kind indulgence is therefore requested for 
 Miss D'Arcy, who has, on the shortest notice, consented to play the 
 part of Serpolette." 
 
 " Did yer ever 'ear of any one spraining an ankle on purpose 1 " 
 asked a scene-shifter. 
 
 " Hush ! " said the gasman, *' he'll 'ear you." 
 
 Amid murmurs of applause, Mr. Hayes backed into the wings. 
 
 " Well, was it aU right ? " he asked Dick. 
 
 "Right, my boy, I should think it was ; there was a touch of 
 Gladstone in your accidentally sprained ankle." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said the discomfited acting manager. 
 
 "I haven't time to tell you now. Now then, girls, are you 
 ready ! " he said, rushing on to the sta^e and hurriedly changing 
 the places of the choristers. Putting his hand on a girl's shoulder, 
 he moved her to the right or left as his taste dictated. Then re- 
 tiring abruptly, he cried, "Now then, up you go !'' and immediately 
 after thirty voices in one sonority sang, 
 
 " In Corneville's wide market-pla — a — oes 
 Sweet servant girls with rosy fa — a — oes 
 Wait here, wait here." 
 
 " Now, then, come on. You make your entrance from the top 
 left." 
 
 "I don't think I shall ever be able to do that run in." 
 "Don't begin to think about anything. If you don't like the 
 run, I'll tell you how to do it," said Dick, his face lighting up with 
 a sudden inspiration ; " do it with a cheeky swagger, walking very 
 slowly, like this ; and then when you get quarter of the way down 
 the stage, stop for a moment and sing, ' Who speaks HI of Serpo- 
 lette 1 ' Do you see ! " ; 
 
 " Yes, yes, that will suit me better ; I understand." 
 Then standing under the sloping wing, they both listened anxi- 
 ously for the cue. ' 
 
200 A MUMMEK'S WIFE, 
 
 " She loves Grenicheux." 
 
 " There's your cue. On you go, give me your shawl." 
 
 Tlie footlights dazzled her. The shadow-tilled auditorium spotted 
 with hundreds of faces, was appalling ; a burst of applause rather 
 frightened than reassured her, and a prey to a sort of dull dream, 
 she sang her first lines. But she was a little behind the beat. 
 Montgomery brought down his stick furiously, the rSpUques of the 
 girls buffeted her ears like palms of hand, and it was not until she 
 was half-way through the gossiping couplets, and saw Montgomery's 
 arm swing peacefully to and fro over the bent profiles of the musi- 
 cians that she fairly recovered her presence of mind. Then came 
 the little scene in which she runs away from her uncle Gaspard and 
 hides behind the Baillie. And she dodged the old man with such 
 sprightliness from one side of the stage to the other that a murmur 
 of aidmiration floated over the pit, and, arising in circular echoes, 
 was prolonged almost until she stepped down to the footlights to 
 sing the legend of Serpolette. 
 
 The quaintly tripping cadences of the tune and the humour of 
 the words, which demanded to be rather said than sung, were ren- 
 dered to perfection. It was impossible not to like her when she 
 said, 
 
 " I know not much of my relations, 
 I never saw my mother's face ; 
 And of preceding generations 
 I never found a single trace. 
 
 " I may have fallen from the sky. 
 Or blossomed in a rosebud sweet ; 
 But all I know is this, that I 
 Was found by Gaspard in his wheat." 
 
 A smile of delight filled the theatre, and Kate felt the chilling 
 sense of separation which exists between the public and a debutante 
 being gl-adually fiUed in by a delicious but almost incomprehensible 
 notion of contact — a sensation more delicate than the touch of a 
 lover's breath on your face. This reached a climax when she sang 
 the third verse, and had not etiquette forbade, she would have had 
 an encore for it alone. 
 
 " I often think that perhaps I may 
 The heiress to a kingdom be. 
 But as I wore no clothes that day 
 I brought no papers out with me." 
 
 These words, that had often seemed coarse in Leslie's mouth, 
 in Kate's seemed adorably simple. So winning was the smile and 
 so coquettishly conscious did she seem of the compromising nature 
 of the statement she was making, that the entire theatre was 
 actuated by the impulse of one thought — Oh I what a little dear 
 you must have been lying in the wheat-field ! The personality of 
 the actress disappeared in the rosy thighs and chubby arms of ther 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 201 
 
 foundling, and notwithstanding thef length of the song, she had to 
 sing it twice over. Then there was an exit for her, and she rushed 
 into the wings. Several of the girls spoke to her, but it was 
 impossible for her to reply to them. Everything swam in and out 
 of sight like shapes in a mist, and she could only distinguish the 
 burly form of her lover. He wrapped a shawl about her, and a 
 murmur of amiable words followed her, and, with her thoughts, 
 fizzing like champagne, she tried to listen to his praises. 
 
 Then followed moments in which she anxiously waited for her 
 cues. She was nervously afraid of missing her entrance, and she 
 dreaded spoiling her success by some mistake. But it was not 
 until the end of the act when she stepped out of the crowd of 
 servant-girls to sing the famous coquetting song, that she reached 
 the summit of her triumph. 
 
 Kate was about the medium height, a shade over five, feet five. ■' 
 When she swung her little dress as she strutted on the stage she 
 rraninded you immediately of a pigeon. In her apparent thinness 
 from time to time was revealed a surprising plumpness. For 
 instance, her bosom, no more in a walking dress than an indication,, 
 in a low body assumed the roundness of a bird's, and the white 
 lines of her falling shoulders floated in long undulations into the 
 blue masses of her hair. The nervous sensibility of her profession ' 
 had awakened her face, and now the brown eyes laughed with the 
 spiritual maliciousness with which we willingly endow the features 
 of a good fairy. The hips were womanly, the ankle was only a 
 touch of stocking, and, when coquettishly lifting the skirt, she sang, 
 
 " Look at me hdre, look at me there, 
 Criticise me everywhere. 
 I am most sweet from head to feet, 
 And most perfect and complete." 
 
 the whole house rose to a man and roared. The audience, prin- 
 cipally composed of sailors — ^men home from months of watery 
 weariness, nights of toil and darknessj maddened by the irritating 
 charm of the music and the delicious modernity of Kate's figure 
 and dress, looked as if they were going to precipitate themselves 
 from the galleries. Was she not the living reality of the figures 
 posted over the hammocks in oU-smelling cabins, the prototype of 
 the short-skirted damsels that decorated the empty match boxes 
 which they preserved and gazed at under the light of the stars ? 
 Her" success was enormous, and she was forced to sing, 
 
 " Look at me here;" 
 
 five times before her friends would allow the piece to proceed. At 
 the end of the act she received an ovation. Two reporters of the 
 local newspapers obtained permission to come behind to see her. 
 London engagements were spoken of, and in the general enthu- 
 siasm some one talked about grand opera. Even her fellow artists 
 
202 A MOMMEB'S Wl^K- 
 
 foi^got their jealonries, :aid in ibe nervous excitemait of tlie 
 moment compIimrari<ed h^ lug^iljr. Beamnont, anxiotiB to kkk 
 down her riTal, declared, "Thai^ to say tJie least of it, it to 
 a better rendering of the part f^an L^ie's." On heaijag tihk, 
 Bret, vhoBe forte was not repartee, mored icwaj ; Horizmer, in 
 his least artifidal manner, said that it was not bad for a beginwing 
 and tiiat die'd get on if she worked at it. Dubois sbntted and 
 spoke learnedly of how the psni had beai pl^ed in France, and he 
 was pleased to trace by an analysis wfaidi was dimcnlt to tiSiaw a 
 reaemblanee between Kate and Madame Jodie. 
 
 The seomd act went eqoalfy welL And after serai^ fbe g^iosti 
 she got a bonqoet thrown to her, so cheekity did she E3g the 
 refrain, 
 
 " For a legiment of cddien wouldn't make me a&aid.'' 
 
 She had tiier^ne now only to maintain her prest^ to tiie end, 
 and when she bad got her encore for the dder song, and had been 
 recdled before the cnrtain at tiie end oi ibe tiurd act^ with nn- 
 strm^ nerres she wandered to her drenii^-scMBn, thinking of what 
 Dick wcmld s^ when tbey got bmne. Bnt the pleafores at the 
 eveiaog were not over jetz there was the tapper, whai bar 
 success woold be iboroi^^ity diseoaged, still to be looked forward 
 to. She vonid hare liked to hare heaa. akme with. Dick ; hot en 
 oonsideraiicRi, Umikm^ it would look a wkw ar d not to ask Mont- 
 gonmy, she wfaispoed to him in the wii^, whrai she came down 
 from hex dreaaag-xooai, that they hoped to see him at their fiate 
 latex on. He said he would be rery ^bd, but for fiie momait he 
 was obliged to cot sway as be had some mnsac to eapf oat. 
 
 Kate was le& akme in Ote vacant twih^it of the stage. TLe 
 Ecraie-shiftss were eanying to and &o tfie Img swinging wings, the 
 T-h^a. was flaring. As she walked up and down the loa^ boards 
 a warm joy, a Immrions ctmstaonsneas of soccess, pen^iated ha 
 whole b^ng, andher tb on g ht s balanced themselTesytJ iiptnoM aly on 
 the remembrance. She recalled eadi round of ^planae die had re- 
 ceived ; die dwelt upon and tidded hcasdf amiOBXisty with, the con- 
 rraiir of the compliments that badbean paid to her. Indistinetnamis 
 of future successes amassed ibemselTes in her TniiMJ^ and in ie^Dgji 
 that were -^znilaaaSiy sensual she savoured in advance the pleasure 
 tbat woold presently be hers wfaoi, sittii^betirarai Didc and. Mbat- 
 gomeiy, she would hear t^ion talking of hei^ and dtscaasng in de- 
 tail the ev t a i ls of whi<di she had been the hezmne. Prom time to 
 time dioraB-£^ils passed across grang in the directi<ni of the stage- 
 door. As fliey wrait by her they invazial^ stopped and, with a 
 few mechanical words and a hard anile, strove to oonqiilimens ba. 
 Kate thanked them and oontinnedh^ walk. At last Beamnont and 
 Dolly Goddard came by. After a jdiiaae or two ooneeming tiie 
 ineoe, qoesiiDnE were a^ed about ISdk. Kate answered that die 
 was waitiag for him. At that mcgpent a scene-aldfter who hap- 
 pened to be paawng, siq^lied tiie informaticm that he had seen Tb, 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 203 
 
 Lennox leaving the theatre some twenty minutes ago, and that he 
 had not returned. Kate wondered where he had gone to, and while 
 she puzzled her brains to think why he had not left a message for 
 her, she listened to Beaumont who was proposing that they should 
 go round, before it was too late, and have a drink at the pub. 
 Afraid he might return in her absence, and knowing how he disap- 
 proved of her ^oing to public-houses with the girls, she hesitated ; 
 but Beaumont insisted, and as it was a question of drinking to that 
 night's success, Kate, fearing to appear ungenerous, consented. A 
 word was left with the stage-door keeper. 
 
 '' No, not here," said Beaumont, shoving an inch or so apart the 
 swinging doors. Dolly and Kate were belund her. " 'Tis too full. 
 I'll show you the way round by the pide entrance." 
 
 And giggling, the girls slipped into the private apartment. 
 
 " What wiU you have, dear 1 " asked Beaumont in an apologetic 
 whisper. 
 
 " I think rU have a whisky." 
 
 " You'll have, the same, Dolly 1 " 
 
 " Scotch or Irish ? " asked the barman. 
 
 The girls consulted a moment, and decided in favour of Irish. 
 
 With nods and glances, the health of Serpolette was drunk, and 
 then fearing to look as if she were sponging, Kate insisted on like- 
 wise standing treat. Fortunately when the second round had been 
 drunk, closing time was announced by the man in' the shirt-sleeves, 
 and bidding her friends good-bye, Kate stood in the street trying to 
 think if she ought to return to the theatre to look after Dick or go 
 home and find him there. 
 
 Deciding on the latter alternative, she walked slowly along the 
 street. A chill wind blew up from the sea, and the sudden transi- 
 tion from the hot atmosphere of the bar brought the fumes of the 
 whisky to her head and she felt a little giddy. An idea of drunken- 
 ness suggested itself ; it annoyed her, and repulsing it vehemently, 
 her thoughts somewhat savagely fastened on to Dick as the culprit. 
 " Where had he gone to ? " &.e asked, at first curiously, but at each 
 repetition she put the question more sullenly to herself. If he had 
 come back to fetch her she would not have been led in to going into 
 the public-house with Beaumont ; and, irritated that any shadow 
 shoidd have fallen on the happiness of the evening, she walked 
 sturdily along until a sudden turn brought her face to face with 
 her lover. 
 
 " Oh 1 " he said, starting, " is that you, Kate ? I was just cutting 
 back to the theatre to fetch you." 
 
 " Yes, a nice time you've kept me waiting," she answered ; but as 
 she spoke she recognised the street they were in as the one in which 
 Leslie lived. The blood rushed to her face, and tearing the while 
 the paper fringe of her bouquet, she said, " I know very well where 
 you have been to 1 I want no telling. You have been round 
 spending your time with Leslie." 
 
 " Well," said Dick, embarrassed by the directness with which she 
 
204 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 divined his errand, " 1 don't see what harm there waa in that. I 
 really thought that 1 ought to run and see how she was." 
 
 Struck by the reasonableness of this answer, Kate for the moment 
 remained silent, but a sudden remembrance forced the anger that 
 waa latent in her to her head, and facing him again she said . 
 
 "How dare you tell me such a lie. You know very well you 
 went to see her because you like her, because you love her." 
 
 Dick looked at her surprised. 
 
 " 1 assure you, you are mistaken," he said. Bat at that moment 
 Bret passed them in the street, hurrying towards Leslie's. The 
 meeting was an unfortunate one, and it sent a deeper pang of 
 jealousy to Kate's heart. 
 
 " There," she said, " haven't I proof of your baseness ? What do 
 you say to that 1 " 
 
 "To what?" 
 
 " Don't pretend innocence. Didn't you see Bret passing ? You 
 choose yoxir time nicely to pay visits — just when he should be out." 
 
 "Oh !" said Dick, surprised at the ingenuity of the deduction. 
 "I give you my word that such an idea never occurred to me." 
 
 But before he could get any further with his explanation Kate 
 again cut him short, and in passionate words told him he was a 
 monster and a viUain. So taken aback was he by this sudden mani- 
 festation of temper on the part of one in whom he did not suspect 
 its existence, that he stopped, to assure himself that she was not 
 joking. A glance su£B.ced to convince him ; and making frequent 
 little halts between the lamp-posts to argue the different points 
 more definitely, quarrelling they proceeded home. But on arriving 
 at the door, Kate experienced a moment of revolt that suipiised 
 herself. The palms of her hands itched, and consumed with a 
 childish desire to scratch and beat this big man, she beat her little 
 fe§t against the pavement. Dick fumbled at the lock. The delay 
 still further irritated her, and it seemed impossible that she could 
 enter the house that night. 
 
 "Aren't you coming in ? " he said at last. 
 
 "No, not I. You go back to Miss Lealie ; I'm aure she wants 
 you to attend to her ankle." 
 
 This was too absurd, and Dick gently expostulated. But nothing 
 he could say was of the slightest avail, and she refused to move from 
 the doorstep. Then began a long argument ; and in brief phrases, 
 amid frequent interruptions, all sorts of things were discussed. The 
 wind blew very cold ; Kate i did not seem to notice it, but Dick 
 shivered in his fat. Noticing his trembling she taunted him with 
 it, and insultingly advised him to go to bed. Not knowing what 
 answer to give to this, he walked into the sitting-room and sat down 
 by the fire. How long would she remain on the doorstep ? he asked 
 himself humbly, until his reflections were interrupted by the sound 
 of steps. It was Montgomery, and chuckling, Dick listened to him 
 reasoning with Kate. The cold was so intense that the discussion 
 could not be continued for long ! and whim the two friends finterBrl 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 205 
 
 Dick waa prepared for a reconciliation. But in this he was disap- 
 pointed. She merely consented to sit in tlie arm-chair, and from 
 time to time she glared at her lover. Montgomery tried to argue 
 with her, but he could scarcely succeed in getting her to answer 
 him. It was not until he conmienoed to question Dick on the 
 reason of the quarrel that she consented to speak ; and then her 
 utterances were more passionate denials of her lover's statements 
 than any distinct explanation. There were also long silences, dur- 
 ing which she sat savagely picking at the paper of the bouquet, 
 which she still retained. At last Montgomery noticing the supper 
 that no one cared to touch said : 
 
 " Well, all I know is, that it is very unfortunate that you should 
 have chosen this night of all others, the night of her success, to have 
 a row. I expected a pleasant evening." 
 
 "Success, indeed!" said Kate, storting to her feet. "Was it 
 for such a success as this that he took me away from my home ? 
 Oh, what a fool I was 1 Success ! A lot I care for the success, 
 when he has been spending the evening with Leslie." And unable 
 to contain herself any longer, she tore a handful of flowers out of 
 her bouquet and threw them in Dick's face. Handful succeeded 
 handful, each being accompanied by a shower of vehement words. 
 The two men waited in wonderment, and when passionate reproaches 
 and spring flowers were alike exhausted, a flood of tears and a rush 
 into the next room ended the scene. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Kate's anger lasted until the following day, until it was announced 
 that Miss Leslie suffered so much with her ankle, that she would 
 be unable to travel. Then the whole company called to see the 
 poor invalid ; the chorus left their names, the principals went up 
 to sit by the sofa-side. They aJl brought her something : Beau- 
 mont, a basket of fruit ; Dolly Goddard, a bouquet of roses ; 
 Dubois, an interesting novel ; Mortimer, a fresh stock of anecdotes. 
 The subject of sprains was eagerly discussed. Dubois had known a 
 premifere danseuse at the Opera House, in Paris, who, etc. Beau- 
 mont tried to tell the story of a certain piece of orange-peel, but 
 she soon lost the thread of her story, and gave them instead a good 
 dealof fresh information concerning her intimacy with Lord Worthing. 
 But Bret was the person of the hour ; it was he who undid the 
 bajidages, and changed Miss Leslie's position when she asked to 
 be moved. It would, of course, be impossible to produce either 
 opera without him ; and when he and Dick went out of the room a 
 look of inquiry was passed round. 
 
 "You needn't be uneasy. I wouldn't let Bret stop for anything. 
 I shall be very very comfortable here. My landlady is as kind as 
 she can be, and the rooms are very nice. " 
 
 A murmur of approval followed these words, and continuing Miss 
 Leslie said, laying her hand on Kate's, 
 
 " And my friend here wUl play my parts until I come back 
 You must begin to-night, my dear, and try to work up Olairette. 
 If you are a quick study you may be able to play it on Wednesday 
 night." . 
 
 This was too much ; the tears stood in Kate's eyes. She had in 
 her pocket a little gold porte-bonheur which she had bought that 
 morning to make a present of to her once-hated rival, but she 
 waited until they were alone to slip it on the good-natured prima 
 donna's wrist. The parting between the two, women was very touching 
 and being in the melting mood Kate made a full confession of her 
 C[uarrel with Dick, and, abandoning herself, she sought for consola- 
 Lion. Leslie smiled curiously, and after a long pause said, 
 
 " I know what you mean, dear, I have been jealous myself ; but 
 you'll get over it, and learn to take things easily as I do. Men 
 aren't worth it." The last phrase seemed to have slipped from her 
 inadvertentlv. and seeins how she had shocked Kate she hastened 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 207 
 
 to add, " Dick is a very good fellow, and will look after you ; but 
 take my advice, don't kick up a row ; we women don't gain any- 
 thing by it." 
 
 The words dwelt long in Kate's mind, but she found it hard to 
 act up to the counsel given. Her temper surprised even herself. 
 It seemed to be giving way, and she trembled with rage at things 
 that before would not have stirred an unquiet thought in her mind. 
 Remembrances of the passions which used to convulse her when a 
 ohUd returned to her. As is generally the case, there was right 
 on both sides. Her life, it must be confessed, was woven about 
 with temptations. Dick's character easily engendered suspicion, 
 and when the study of the part of Clairette was over, the iron of 
 distrust began again to force its way into her heart. The slightest 
 thing suflBoed to arouse her. On one occasion, when travelling 
 from Bath to Wolverhampton, she could not help thinking, judging 
 from the expression of the girl's face, that Dick was squeezing 
 Dolly's foot under the rug ; without a word she moved to the other 
 end of the carriage and remained looking out of the window for the 
 rest of the journey. Another time she was seized with a fit of mad 
 rage at seeing Dick dancing with Beaumont at the end of the sec- 
 ond act of Madame Angot. There wfere floods of tears and a dis- 
 tinct refusal "to dress with that woman." Dick was in despair ! 
 What could he do ? There was no spare room, and unless she 
 went to dress with the chorus he didn't know what she'd do. 
 
 " My God ! " he exclaimed to Mortimer, as he rushed across the 
 stage after the " damned property-man," " never have your woman 
 playing in the same theatre as yourself ; it is awful ! " 
 
 The situation could not have been better Summed up. For the 
 last couple of weeks Kate had been pestering him to death. Every- 
 thing he did seemed to be wrong. Success, instead of satisfying 
 her, seemed to render her more irritable, and instead of contenting 
 herself with the plaudits that were nightly showered upon her, her 
 constant occupation was to find out either where Dick was or what 
 he had been doing or saying. K he went up to make a change 
 without telling her she would invent some excuse for sending to 
 inquire after him ; if he were giving some directions to the girls 
 at onte of the top entrances, she would walk from the wing where 
 she was waiting for her cue to ask him what he was saying. This 
 watchfulness caused a great deal of merriment in the theatre, and 
 in the dressing-rooms Mortimer's imitation of the catechism the 
 manager was put to at night was considered very amusing. 
 
 " My dear, I assure you you are mistaken in your calculation. I 
 only smoked two cigarettes after lunch, and then I had a glass of 
 beer. I swear I am concealing nothing from you." 
 
 This is scarcely a parody of the strict surveillance under which 
 Dick lived, but from a mixture of lassitude and good -nature, it did 
 not seem to annoy him too much, and he appeared to be most 
 troubled when Kate murmured that she was tired, that she hated 
 the profession and would like to go and live in the country. For 
 
208 A MUMMBR'S 'WIFE. 
 
 now she complained of fatigue and weariness ; the society of those 
 who formed her life no longer interested her, and she took violent 
 and unreasoning antipathies. It was not infrequent for Mortimei 
 and Montgomery to make an arrangement to grub with the 
 Lennoxes whenever a landlady could be discovered who would un- 
 dertake so much cooking. But now, suddenly, without being able 
 to explain why, Kate declared she could not abide sitting face to 
 face with the heavy lead, and listening any longer to his drawled- 
 out stories. She saw and heard quite enough of him at the theatre 
 without being bothered by him in the daytime. Dick made no 
 objection. Indeed, he confessed willingly that he was a bit tired 
 of disconnected remarks, whose wit lay in their irrelevancy ; and 
 Mortimer always got sulky if you didn't laugh at his jokes. Mont- 
 gomery still continued to board with them, and although he and 
 Kate did not always manage to hit it off, they on the whole got on 
 very well together. Love helped him to bear with a good deal of 
 pettishness, and Dick regarded him as a sort of breakwater, over 
 and against which a great deal of unpleasantness rippled harmlessly 
 away. Dubois, who was asked to take Mortimer's place for a time, 
 got on better -with her. For after the drawled-out dirt of Morti- 
 mer's dress and speech, the natty appearance of tlie little foreigner 
 was a welcome change, and the importance with which he handed 
 round pieces of information concerning all things, from Gladstone 
 to Offenbach, was very funny. He was the type of the man who 
 can do everything better than anybody else. It did not matter 
 whether you spoke of Balzac's position in modem fiction or the roll- 
 ing of cigarettes, you were sure to be interrupted with, " I assure 
 you, my dear fellow, you are mistaken," uttered in a stentorian 
 voice. But it was his naivete that was most astonishing. On the 
 subject of his bass voice a child could draw him out, and, under the 
 pretext of instituting a comparison between him and one of the 
 bass choristers, Montgomery never failed to induce him to give the 
 company an idea of his register. At first to see the little man 
 settling the double chin into his chest in his efforts to get at the low 
 D used to convulse Kate with laughter, but after a time even this 
 grew monotonous, and wearily she begged of Montgomery to leave 
 him alone. "Nothing seems to amuse you now," he would say 
 with a mingled look of affection and regret. A shrug of the 
 shoulder she considered a sufficient answer for him, and she would 
 sink back as if pursuing to its furthest consequences the train of 
 some far-reaclaing idea. 
 
 And, wondering, these men watched the progress of Kate's 
 malady without ever suspecting what was really the matter with her. 
 She was homesick. 
 
 After excesses of all kinds comes a more or less violent reaction. 
 Her doses of pleasure she had steadily increased, until in her suc- 
 cessful appearance as Serpolette in Les Chches de ComeviUe she htad 
 reached the maximum attainable quantity, ffier love of Dick re- 
 mained to her, and if she quarrelled with Him it was because she 
 
A MtrMMEK'S WIFE. 209 
 
 dreaded losing him more vividly than before. But her love could not, 
 now that a pause had come in her life, keep back the terrible weight 
 of early influences. Eate had not become an actress, she was 
 merely a middle-class woman veneered with Bohemianism, and 
 again the peace and calm on which she had been nourished began 
 to appear through the varnish, and when she thought that there was 
 nothing before her but this ever-roUing hurry from town to town, 
 from lodging-hou^ to lodging-house, she grew appalled at the future 
 that awaited her. J It seemed to her like some horrible punishment, 
 and she often awoke screaming from nightmares in which she wa? 
 bound to a wheel that rolled on for ever. But besides this she had 
 lately began to suspect that she was enceinte. The doubt terrified 
 her, and there were times when her cravings for a little rest 
 amounted to delirium. Now she rarely missed saying on Saturday 
 nights when the labour of packing had to be begun : — 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! how tired I am ! What would I give for a little 
 holiday, just to be quiet for a bit, and do nothing— nothing, except 
 go out to walk with you and sit on a sea-shore, as we used to in 
 Blackpool ! " 
 
 Week by week the idea of the inevitable railway-station grew 
 upon her, until it became as nauseous to her as the expected 
 dose of medicine is to a child. And the very fact that the travel- 
 ling had to be done on a Sunday added to its repulsiveness ; for 
 when they drove through a closed town the remembrance of the 
 church hour of old time would overwhelm her with insuperable 
 sweetness, and the temptations to revive the Hanley Sundays 
 brought burning tears to her eye-lids. One day as they were pre- 
 paring to start, the vision of the long railway journey, with all its 
 certain horrors of card-playing, smoking, and lewd anecdotes, arose 
 in her mind side by side with the memory of the clear lofty windows, 
 the severe pews, tide pure elevation of the soul, the simple hymns, 
 their soft assuagements, and all the benedictive felicities of the 
 Sabbath. 
 
 The shock was too sudden and admitted of no resistance, and she 
 exclaimed passionately, 
 
 "No, I cannot ! I will not go to-day on that horrible journey ! 
 I cannot, Dick ; do not ask me." 
 
 Dick looked up, surprised beyond measure. 
 
 ' ' What do you mean ? " he said after a pause. ' ' You won't come 
 to Bath 1 Well, and I should like to know who's to play Clairette 
 to-morrow night ? " 
 
 "Why, I am, of course." 
 
 " I don't understand. You don't mean to say that you want us 
 to do another week at Leamington when we are dated for Bath ? " 
 
 " Of course not 1 I can follow on to-night by a later train." 
 
 " And what good wUl that do you, dear ? " said Dick, feeling 
 much relieved by the explanation. 
 
 " Well, I'd like to have one Sunday in quiet ; I'd like to go to 
 church, that's all. I daresay you think it nonsense, but I don't." 
 
210 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 For a moment Dick looked at Kate in silent and lazy astonish- 
 ment. The examination irritated her. Her face twitched, and her 
 fingers fidgeted with the plaits of her dress. At last he said, 
 
 " Well, I never 1 You seem to get more and more capricious 
 every day." 
 
 "Then you won't let me?" said Kate, with a flush flowing 
 through her olive cheeks. 
 
 " Won't let you ? Why shoflldn't you stay if it pleases you, 
 dear ? It does no harm to anybody. Besides, Montgomery is stay- 
 ing too ; he wants to see an aunt of His who lives in the town." 
 
 Dick's unafiected kindness so touched Kate's sensibilities that 
 the tears welled up into her eyes, and, hysterically sobbing, she 
 flung herself into his arms. For the moment she was very happy, 
 and she looked into the dream of the long day she was going to 
 spend with Montgomery. She had now learned to joy in this 
 Platonic friendship, almost to the detriment of her love of the other 
 man. Her affection for Dick was not waning, but with him from 
 the first there had been no illusions ; she had been overcome and 
 was held by the mere fleshly force of humanity ; and it was out of 
 this hotbed of sensualism that floated the pale perfumes of the secret 
 affinities that united her in spirit with the sentimental soul of the 
 musician. Now it seemed to her that he was a necessary part of 
 her existence, and she almost congratulated herself that Dick was 
 not going to be with them at Leamington. There is always a side 
 of a woman's character that no one man can understand. 
 
 The day was not less charming than the dream, and trembling 
 with nervous delight, they hurried through the town, inquiring for 
 the Wesleyan church. At last it was found. On entering she hesi- 
 tated, overcome by a rush of memories. But this was only moment- 
 arily. -When she had secured a place, the sensation of kneeling was 
 in itself a joy. To hide the tears upon her cheeks she was forced 
 to bury her face in her hands, and in the soft snoring of the organ 
 recollections of her life frothed up, drowning her heart in illimit- 
 able and unexplained sorrow. Her whole life seemed to be weeping, 
 within her, and in meaningless distraction she regretted she had 
 ever been bom. But as the psalm proceeded her excitement 
 abated, until at last it subsided into a state of ecstasy, full at once 
 of cruelty and sweetness, out of which she made no effort to lift 
 herself. And it was not until the congregation kneeled down with 
 one accord for the extemporary prayer that, obeying a sudden 
 impulse, she passionately demanded grace and pardon for her 
 child. But the effort exhausted her, and she relapsed into reve- 
 ries. She saw in herself a sort of helpless martyr to circumstances, 
 and unconsciously she drew comparisons between the life she led 
 arid the life she had hoped to attain. She remembered the mater- 
 ialism of her existence, the coarse conversation that made virtue of 
 vice, the constant parade of body, the strains of sensual music, 
 whose rhythm expressed not love nor reverence but lust and 
 
A MtJMMEE'S WIFE. 211 
 
 And these sad beatitudes of mind were prolonged indefinitely 
 tlirough the day. It was midsummer, and' out of the flame of light 
 inihe diaphanous shadow of the wide-spreading trees, watching the 
 boats passing up the lucid river, they dreamed through the long 
 afternoon, and in spirit, at least, they were united perfectly and 
 completely. She spoke of the decrees of fate, and hesitatingly he 
 answered by alluding to the misfortunes of those who have to walk 
 by the side of those whom they love, and are yet divided by circum- 
 stances as irrevocably as if oceans lay between them. Kate answered 
 by a look, trembling lest he should say more and destroy the tender- 
 ness of the day. Everything delighted them ; they had a thousand 
 confidences to make, and to recount their impressions and opinions 
 of life in general interested them beyond measure. It astonished 
 them to find how their ideas coincided, and in secret they both 
 wondered why they had never spoken to each other like this 
 before. So enwrapped was he in the personality of the woman, 
 so lost was he in the liquid felicities Of ner brown eyes, that it was 
 a wearying efibrt to defaich his thoughts from them ; and when she 
 asked him about his opera he could only tell her that he had heard 
 her voice in the music as he composed it. Strong as was the artistic 
 temperament in him, it was overpowered by the force of his love, it 
 irritated him to think of his score ; his desires slipped from it, and 
 were absorbed in the cluirms of the evening and the grace of Kate's 
 melancholy attitudes. 
 
 Dick had only been mentioned occasionally, and whenever hia 
 name was pronounced the conversation fell awkwardly to the ground. 
 She was willing to allow herself to drift on that rainbow-tinted 
 current of sentiment whose reality, being less than that of a dream, 
 is resisted by no woman, especially when her heart is inflamed with 
 the ardours of a violent physical passion. 
 
 And while speaking of themselves their walk had been prolonged 
 far into the country, and it was not until the certainty that the day 
 was over forced itself through their thoughts that they commenced 
 to spe^ definitely of Dick and the opera company, tow;ards which 
 they were journeying, carrying with them in their souls the corpse 
 of their happiness. They had dined at a country ion, and now, 
 saturated with tenderness, they walked towards Leamington. The 
 ways were filled with Sunday strollers — mothers leading a tired 
 child moved steadily forward ; a drunken man staggered over a heap 
 of stones ; sweethearts chased each other ; occasionally a girl, kissed 
 from behind as she stretched to reach a honeysuckle, rent with a 
 scream the sickly-coloured, airless evening. 
 
 But through this pleasant day Kate'.s thoughts had lain on her 
 mind heavy as lead. Sometimes in the excitement of conversation, 
 now in the hurry of getting to the station in time, her apprehensions 
 were lost sight of ; but when the tickets were token, and the train 
 commenced rolling, with a slight oscillating motion, into the 
 open country, to conceal her tears she looked away, pretending 
 to be interested in the receding town. Dim masses of trees 
 
212 A MUMMER'S WIFE. , 
 
 interrupted by spires and roofs were painted upon a huge orange- 
 coloured sky, that somehow reminded her of an opera bouffe. Then 
 everything seemed to her but one horrible profanity. 
 
 "What are you crying for?" Montgomery asked, bending 
 forward. 
 
 "Oh, 1 don't know ! — nothing," exclaimed Kate; sobbing ; "but 
 I am very unhappy. I know I have been very wicked, and am sure 
 to be punished for it." 
 
 " What nonsense ! Who's going to punish you 1 " 
 
 "God will punish me — I know He will. I felt it all to-day in 
 church. And when I think, I don't know what will become of me." 
 
 "I don't know what you have to complain of. You have made a 
 success on the stage. I never saw any one get on so well in so short 
 a time ; and you are loved," he added with a certain bitterness, 
 "as much as any woman could be." 
 
 " That's what ^ou think, but I know better. I see him flirting 
 every day with diflferent girls." 
 
 "You imagine those things. Dick can't speak roughly to any 
 one if he tried ; but he doesn't care for any woman but you." 
 
 " Of course, you say so. You are his friend." 
 
 " I assure you, 'pen my word of honour ; I wouldn't tell you so 
 if it weren't true. You are — are you not? — my friend as much 
 as he." 
 
 So penetrated were these words with an accent of strained feeling 
 that Kate raised her eyes to Montgomery. Then, as if afraid that 
 she should read his thoughts, he added : 
 
 " I am sure he hasn't kissed any one since he knew you. I can't 
 put it plainer than that, can II" 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say so. I don't think you would tell me 
 a lie ; it would be too cruel, wouldn't it ? for you know what a 
 position I'm in. If Dick were to desert me to-morrow what should 
 I do ? When I think of it, it frightens me to death ; and I suppose 
 it will have to come. It is always the way it ends, isn't it ? " 
 
 ' ' You're in a mournful humour. Why should Dick desert you 1 
 Where would he find a woman as pretty as you ? And even if he 
 did I don't see that it would be such an awful fate." 
 
 Startled, Kate raised her eyes suddenly and looked him straight 
 in the face. 
 
 "What do you mean ? " she said. 
 
 The abruptness of her question made him hesitate. In a swift 
 instant he regretted having risked himself so far, and he reproached 
 himself for being false to his friend ; but the temptation was irre- . 
 sistible, and overcome by the tenderness of the day, and irritated 
 by the memory of years of vain longing, he said 
 
 " Even if he did desert you, you might, you would, find some- 
 body better — somebody who would marry you." 
 
 Thov were alone in the railway-carriage, and during a long and 
 
A MUMMER'S ■WIFE. 213 
 
 band of yellow that remained, a yellow like that of a tea-rose, each 
 waited for the other to speak. It was one of those pauses which 
 decide the destiny of lives. At last Kate said : 
 
 "I could never marry any one but Dick." 
 
 "Why? Do you love him so much ? " 
 
 ■'Tes, I love him better than anything in the world ; but even 
 if I didn't there are reasons which would prevent my marrying any 
 one but him." 
 
 " What reasons ? " 
 
 Kate hung down her head. The subject was a delicate one, and 
 she sought for words to make herself understood. She did not know 
 if she ought to confide her secret to Montgomery, but a desire that 
 some one should know of her trouble smothered all: other considera- 
 tions — ^but after another effort to speak she renounced the attempt. 
 Still Montgomery persisted. 
 
 " Why 1 Tell me why you could not marry any one but Dick. " 
 
 The sound of his voice startled her, and then, in a moment of 
 sudden naturalness, she answered : 
 
 " Because I'm in the family- way." 
 
 To Montgomery there was a blotting out of aU things ; a sheet 
 of darkness seemed to have slipped before his mind, and a dull 
 blind pain wrenched his heart. Logic there was none in his grief. 
 This woman was not, could never be, anything to him. To speak 
 to her of love would be to betray the confidence of his friend. All 
 this he knew well, and yet the confession he had just heard was to 
 him a sort of annihilation. The rattle of the train ^hook emptUy 
 in his ears, and his thoughts pressed him into a state of mute stupor 
 — ^mute for he dare not utter a cry ; sUence was imposed upon him. 
 Kate knew he was sufiering, but the intensity of her own feelings 
 did not leave her time for pity. The thought. Why, after all, 
 should she not marry Dick ? shot through her mind in such pierc- 
 ing fervour that she remained as if transfixed, seeing in a dream a 
 distant vision of white. Why should she not marry Dick ? The 
 words sang like violins in her ears. What was there to prevent it ? 
 Nothing. What a fool she had been ! Why had she not asked for 
 this reparation before ? In a second her life had become illum- 
 inated and animated, and in a deep, tranquillity of mind she 
 savoured the sweetness of her joy, as a convalescent might a 
 bouquet of freshly culled violets. 
 
 " Then why don't you marry him 1 " said Montgomery hoarsely. 
 
 The words that were death-knells to him were marriage bells in 
 her ears, and she said, speaking out of her hope like a prisoner out 
 of his cell : 
 
 ' ' Perhaps he will marry me when I tell him all — I am sure he 
 will." 
 
 " What ! haven't you told him what you told me ? " 
 
 " No," Kate answered timidly ; "I was afraid to.'' 
 
 " Then you must do so at once," exclaimed Montgomery, now 
 wakiijg up vigorously from his lethargy ; and the poor vagrant 
 
214 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 musician whom nobody had ever loved said, and it was an act ( 
 heroic courage, 
 
 "I will speak to him about it the first time I get a chance. . H 
 must marry you. It would be wicked of him not to. He couldn 
 refuse, even if he didn't love you, which he does." 
 
 The last streak of yellow had now died out of the sky, in th 
 dusky meadows the cattle slept under the light of a few shimmei 
 ing stars, and, penetrated with a sentiment of fathomless content 
 Kate watched the flying landscape. So ended the day that hsu 
 begun so sweetly for both. She pitied him from the bottom of he 
 heart ; but being a woman what could she do but look at him witl 
 eyes fuU of gratitude, and murmur as he developed his plans t 
 her, "I am sure it is very good of you to take such an interes 
 in me. " 
 
215 
 
 CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 In' Bath Kate scored an immense success. She was applauded to 
 the echo in Madame Angot and Les Cloches de Gomemlh. As 
 Olairette and Serpolette she ■was declared to be equally perfect. 
 Dick was enthusiastic, and he talked extravagantly of how she 
 would eclipse the London prima donnas when they went up to town. 
 In general lines he sketched out a hundred projects for getting a 
 new work over from France, in which Kate would create the prin- 
 cipal part. The only points on which he was not decided were, which 
 of his three illustrious composers he should choose for the music, and 
 which London theatre it would be most suitable to take a lease of 
 These discussions rendered Montgomery very irritable. He was 
 wining to dream of a London theatre till daylight dawned, but the 
 eulogies passed on M. Herv^ rendered him desperate, and the con- 
 versational ruses he employed to get back to his own opera were 
 most ingenious. 
 
 Opposite the two men, lyi:^ back in an armchair, Kate listened. 
 Their arguments wearied her. Her thoughts were bent too firmly 
 on her marriage. Would he or would he not make her his wife 
 when she told him all ? she asked herself night and day. Some- 
 times she fancied he would, and then the sweetness of the idea 
 brought a. smile to her lips ; but remembering that not in all the 
 books she had read could she recall a single instance of a man 
 marrying his mistress, she grew frightened. 
 
 " Oh ! when will they cease talking of their horrible theatres ? " 
 she would say to herself. " Who cares whether Ofienbaoh or Herv^ 
 writes the best music ? " Even when they spoke of herself, and in 
 glowing terms praised her performance of Clairette, she was but 
 faintly interested. Upon a stock of many generations of middle- 
 class people, people whose ideas had ever been confined to a routine 
 of material and spiritual life, both being accepted as earnestly as 
 uninquiringly, the artistic graft had taken but sparingly ; and it 
 was clear that as soon as the bonds of love that bound it were taken 
 off, it would fall as an excrescence, rejected by hereditary instincts. 
 Already her marriage took far greater importance in her eyes than 
 any stage success. Already her mind was tinged with dreams that 
 were but an echo of her first life in Hanley. Anything to stay this 
 horrible weekly journey that was driving her mad. Even her con- 
 finement, far distant as it was, seemed to her like an assurance of 
 
216 A MUMJIER'S WTFE. 
 
 rest ; and she thought of the long hours of weak peace, when Did 
 Bitting reading to her, conld be hers as he had never been. An 
 the baby — ^it would unite them ; they could never be parted thei 
 Ah ! all would yet be well if he would marry her. 
 
 The Monday and Tuesday at Bath she spent considering how tii 
 demand — for she was determined that it should take the form of 
 demand — should be put to him. It had always been vaguely undei 
 stood that 'they were to be married — ^that is to say, it had beei 
 taken for granted that when they had time, when a fitting occasioi 
 presented itself, they would render their cohabitation l^aL Thi 
 understanding had till now satined her. In :her happiness she hat 
 not thought of pressing matters, and Dick., who let a thing slid 
 until the iron rod of necessity pushed it down his tiiroat, had no 
 troubled himself about the matter. Nothing this man loved si 
 ardentiy as to talk about work to ba done, bat only an expectatioi 
 of the most immediate result could induce him to execute any of hi 
 projects, and his marriage he treated exactly as he did his theattica 
 speculations. Of course he intended they diould be married ; ther 
 was no doubt about it ; but there was no hurry — some time later on 
 when they were more settled. 
 
 In her present mode of mind these answers were to Kate esped 
 ally exasperating. She however tried to keep her temper, and ti 
 speak calmly. 
 
 " But Di(^, dear, why not at once ? Kemember the life of sin wi 
 are leading. You don't know how miserable it makes me." 
 
 Out of his animal repose Dick smiled at this argument 
 
 If there was one thing more than anotiier that irritated her it wai 
 to be laughed at, and, being always on the watch for a sneer, siu 
 natoially made some startling discoveries in that way. On thi 
 present occasion the blood rushed instantly to her face, and 8h( 
 exclaimed: 
 
 " If you did seduce me, if you did drag me away bam mj 
 peaceful home, if yon did make a ixavelling actress of me 
 there is one thing you might refrain from doing, thaf s insoUiiq 
 my religion ! " 
 
 Dick looked up surprised. Kate had put down her knife and fork— 
 they were finishing dinner — and was pouring herself out a large glass 
 of sheny. She was evidently going to work herself up into one of. 
 Jier rages. Her fingers trembled and the brown eyes were full o! 
 gold light. 
 
 " I assure you, my dear, I never intended to insult your religioii 
 and I wish you wouldn't drink all that wine, it only excites yon." 
 
 " Excites me ! "What does it matter to you if I excite myself oi 
 not?" 
 
 " My dear Kate, this is very foolish of you. I don't see why- 
 if you will only listen to reason " 
 
 " Listen to reason ! " she said, spilling the sherry over the table 
 " ah ! it would have been better if I had never listened to you." 
 
 " You really mustn't drink an^ more wiqe ; I can't aUow it,' 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 2t7 
 
 «axd Dick, passing his arm across hor and trying to take away tho 
 
 This was the climax, and, her pretty face curiously twisted, she 
 screamed as she struggled away from him— 
 1 ^i^."^ V"® 80, win you 1 leave me go I Oh I I hate you 1 " Then 
 olenching her teeth, and more savagely, " No, I will not be touched ! 
 No I no 1 no ! I will not 1" 
 
 So astonished was Dick at this burst of passion that ho loosed for 
 a moment the arms he was holding, and Kate, profiting by the 
 opportunity, seized him by the frizzly hair with one hand and dragged 
 the nails of the other down his face. 
 
 At this unpropitious moment Montgomery entered. Stopping 
 »"^"8nly, with lifted eyebrows and open mouth, he stood aghast, 
 and Kato, whose anger had now expended Itself, burst into a violent 
 fl' 01 'Weeping. Dick wiped the blood from his cheek. 
 
 What does this mean 1 " said Montgomery, speaking very 
 slowly. 
 
 Neither answered. The man sought for words; the woman 
 walked itbout the room, swinging herself. Not knowing' what to 
 make out of it, Montgomery appealed to Kate, and as she passed 
 before him he stopped her and begged for an explanation. She 
 gave him a swift look of grief, and, breaking away from him, shut 
 herself in the bedroom. The two men wore then alone. 
 
 " What does this mean 1 " 
 
 Dick looked round vaguely, astonished at the authoritative way 
 the question was put, but without inquiring he answered : 
 
 "That's what I want to know. I never saw anything like it in 
 my life. Wo were speaking of being married, when suddenly Kate 
 accused me of insulting her religion, and then — well, I don't 
 remember any more. She got into such a passion — you saw it your- 
 self." 
 
 " Did you say you wouldn't marry her 1 " 
 
 " No, on the contrary. I can't make it out. For the last month 
 her caprices, fancies, and jealousies have been something awful I " 
 
 Montgomery made a movement as if he wore going to reply, but 
 chocking himself, he remained silent. His face then assumed the 
 settled appearance of one who is inwardly examining the different 
 sides of a complex question. At last he said : 
 
 " Let's como out for a walk, Dick, and we'll talk the matter over." 
 
 " Dp you think I can leave hor ? " 
 
 " 'Tis the best thing you can do. Loavo her to have her ory out. '' 
 
 Adopting the suggestion, Dick picked up his hat, and without 
 furtlxor words tho men wont out of the house, walking slowly arm 
 in arm. 
 
 "I cannot understand what is tho matter witli Kate. When 1 
 knew her first sho hadn't a bad temper." 
 
 To this Montgoniory made no answer. He was thinking. 
 
 After a pause Dick continued, as if speaking to himself : 
 
 " And the way she does badger me with her confounded jealousies. 
 
218 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 I'm afraid now to tell a girl to move up higher on the stage. There 
 are explanations about everything, and I can't think what it is all 
 about. She has everything she requires. She hasn't been a year 
 on the stage^ and she is playing leading parts, and scoring successes 
 too." 
 
 "Perhaps she has reasons you don't know of." 
 
 " Reasons I don't know of ? What do you mean 1 " 
 
 "Well, you haven't told me yet what the row was about." 
 
 " Tell you ! That's just what I want to know myseM ! " 
 
 " What were you speaking about when it began ? '' asked Mont- 
 gomery, who was still feeling his *ay. 
 
 "About our marriage." 
 
 " WeU, what did you say ? " 
 
 " What did I say 1 I really don't remember ; the row has put it 
 all out of my head. Let me think. I was saying — I mean she was 
 asking me when we should be married." 
 
 " And what did you say to that ? Did you fix a day ? " 
 
 "Fix a day !" said Dick, looking in astonishment at his friend. 
 " How could I fix a day 1 " 
 
 ' ' I think if I loved a woman and she loved me I would manage 
 somehow to fix a day." 
 
 These words were spoken with an earnestness that attracted Dick's 
 attention, and he looked inquiringly at the young man. 
 
 "So you think I ought to marry her ? " 
 
 "Think you ought to marry her?" exclaimed Montgomery 
 
 indignantly ; " really, Dick, I did not think you were Just 
 
 remember what she has given up for you. You owe it to her. 
 Good heavens ! " 
 
 "Well, you needn't get into a passion; I've had enough of 
 passions for one day." 
 
 The impetuousness of the youth had struck through the fat non- 
 chalance of the man, and he said after a pause : 
 
 " Yes, I suppose I do owe it to her." 
 
 The apologetic, easygoing air with which this phrase was spoken 
 maddened Montgomery ; he could have struck his friend full in the 
 face, but for tlie sake of the woman he was obliged to keep hla 
 temper. 
 
 " Putting aside the question of what you owe and what you don't 
 owe, I'd like to ask you where you could find a ]picer wife ? She is 
 the prettiest woman in the company, she is making now five pounds 
 a week, and she loves you as well as ever a woman loved a man. I 
 should like to know what more you want." 
 
 This was very agreeable to hear, and after a moment's reflection 
 Dick said : 
 
 " That's quite true, my boy, and I like her better than any 
 other woman. I don't think I could get anything better. If it 
 weren't for that infernal jealousy of hers. Really, her temper is no 
 joke." 
 
 " Her temper is all right ; she was as quiet as a mouse when you 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 219 
 
 knew her first. Take my word for it, there are excellent reasons 
 for her being a bit put out." ■ 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Can't you guess ?" 
 
 The two men stopped and looked each other full in the face. 
 Montgomery stood the examining gaze, and then resuming his walk, 
 said : 
 
 " Yes, it is so ; she told me in the train coming up from Leam- 
 ington." 
 
 _ Tears glittered in Dick's eyes, and he became in that moment all 
 pity, kindness, and good-nature. 
 
 " Oh, the poor dear 1 Why did she not tell me that before ? And 
 I was scolding her for beiag ill-tempered." 
 
 His humanity was as large as his fat, and although he had never 
 thought of tjie joys of paternity, now, in the warmth of his 
 sentiments, he melted into one feeling of rapture. After a pause, 
 he said : 
 
 " I think I had better go back and see her." 
 
 "Yes, I think you had better ; fix a day for your marriage." 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 Nothing further was said, and absorbed each in different thoughts, 
 the two men retraced their steps. When they arrived at the door, 
 Montgomery said : 
 
 " I think I had better wish you good-bye." 
 
 "No, come in, old man, she'd like to see you.'' 
 
 And as if anxious to torture himself to the last, Montgomery 
 entered. Eate was still locked in the bedroom, but there was such 
 an unmistakeable accent of trepidation and anxiety in Dick's fingers 
 and voice that she opened immediately. Her beautiful black hair 
 was undone, and fell in rich masses about her. Dick took her in 
 his arms, and held her sobbing on his shoulder. All he could say 
 was, "Oh, my darling, I am so sorry ; you will forgive me, won't 
 you?" 
 
sao 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Weil, what are you going to give her ? Do you see anything yoi 
 like here ? " 
 
 " Do you think that paper-cutter would do ? " 
 
 "You can't give anything more suitable, ma'am. Then there an 
 these card-cases ; nobody could fail to like them." 
 
 " What are you going to give, Annie ! " 
 
 " Oh, I'm going to give her the pair of earrings we saw yesterday- 
 but if I were you I wouldn't spend more than half a sovereign — it'f 
 quite enough." 
 
 " I should think so indeed — a third of a week's screw," whispered 
 Dolly, "but she ain't a bad one, and Dick will like it, and maj 
 give me a line or so in Olmette. How do you think she'll do ia tht 
 part ? " 
 
 " We'U talk about that another time. Are you going in for the 
 paper-cutter ? " 
 
 Casting her eyes in despair around the walls of the fancy.gocd! 
 shop to see if she could find anything she liked better, Dolly d& 
 cided in favour of the paper-cutter and, after a feeble attempt ai 
 bargaining, paid the money. 
 
 In the street they saw Mortimer coming along. AU heads wars 
 turned to look at him. He had now allowed his hair to grow ii 
 long, snake-like curls completely over his shoulders, and he wore a 
 frock-coat with tails reaching to the knees. 
 
 " For goodness sake come away," cried Beaumont, " I do hat( 
 speaking to him in the street, everybody stares so." 
 
 The girls turned to fly, but the heavy lead was upon tliem,,and ii 
 his most nasal tones said : — 
 
 " Well, my dear young ladies, engaged in the charming occupa 
 tion of buying nuptial gifts 1 " 
 
 "How very sharp you are, Mr. Mortimer," answered Dolly ir 
 her pertest manner ; " and what are you going to give ? We shouk 
 so mwh like to know." 
 
 After a moment's hesitation he said, throwing up his chin aftei 
 the manner of a model sitting for a head of Christ : — 
 
 " My dear young lady, you must not exhibit your curiosity in thai 
 • way ; it is not modest." 
 
 "But do tell us, Mr. Mortimer; you are a person of such good 
 taste." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 221 
 
 The comic tragedian considered for a moment what he could say 
 most ill-natured and so get himseK out of his difficulty. 
 
 " I tell you, young lady, I am not decided, but I think that a 
 copy of Wesley's hymns bound up with the book of the Grand 
 Duchess might not be inappropriate." 
 
 Spite passes currently for wit, and Mortimer glided out of his 
 difficulty. The question of the marriage was then discussed, and 
 Dick's wisdom in thus pairing for ever prophetically commented 
 upon. Kate's talent received some hard critical knocks, and finally 
 it was agreed that the luck lay for her in their going to Liverpool 
 just after the row. Otherwise, Beaumont declared, there would 
 have been no marriage. 
 
 " You must be in a town a fortnight. I know that to my cost, for 
 when Lord Wedmope sent me out on tour with the Dragon Fly — 
 well, no matter about that. You have to be a fortnight in a place 
 before you can get a licence, and when are we a fortnight anywhere ? 
 In Blackpool we were, but she wasn't divorced then. Lord ! we 
 might have gone on until the end of next year, and he'd have got 
 tired of her by that time. I know Dick." 
 
 "Quite so," said Dolly reflectively, "and as it was, to make 
 up the time they had to leave us in the middle of the week at 
 Bath." 
 
 " But how do you think she'll play the Countess ? " asked 
 Beaumont. 
 
 " Oh, we mustn't speak of that now she's going to be married," 
 and, thinking he could not better this last remark, Mortimer bade 
 the ladies good-bye and went off with curls and coat-tails alike 
 swinging in the breeze. Farther up the street Beaumont and Dolly 
 were joined by Leslie, Bret, and Dubois, and the same topics were 
 again discussed. "What are you going to giye?" "Have you 
 bought your present ? " "Have you seen mine?" "Do you know 
 who's going to be at the wedding breakfast ? They can't ask more 
 than a dozen or so. " " Have you heard that the chorus have clubbed 
 together to buy Dick a chain?" "It is very good of them, but 
 they'll feel hurt at not being asked to the breakfast." " What will 
 the Lennoxes do?" These and a hundred other questions of a 
 similar sort had been asked in the dressing-rooms, in the wings, in 
 the streets, at every available moment since Morton and Cox's 
 opera bouffe company had arrived in Liverpool. Everybody pro- 
 fessed to consider the event the happiest and most fortunate that 
 could have happened, but Mortimer's words, "There's many a slip 
 between the ring and the finger," recurred to them whenever 
 the conversation came to a pause, and they hoped the marriage 
 might yet be averted, even when they stood one bright summer 
 morning assembled on the stage, there awaiting the arrival of 
 the bride and bridegroom. The name of the church had been 
 kept a secret, and all that was known was that Leslie — who 
 had joined another company in Liverpool — Bret, Montgomery, 
 and Beaumont had gone to attend as witnesses, and that they 
 
222 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 would be back at the theatre at twelve to run through the third ac 
 of Olivette before producing it that night. 
 
 Many false alarms were given, but when at last the brida 
 party walked from the wings on to the stage they were reoeivei 
 with cheers and long congratulations. Dick's appearance provokei 
 a little good-natured laughter, so respectable did he look in ; 
 spick and span new frock-coat, and his tall hat, much too smal 
 for him, gave a curiously incongruous look to his big face. Kab 
 had never looked pr^ettier; Mortimer said her own husband woxil( 
 not know her. She wore a dark green silk plaited down the front 
 from underneath which a patent-leather boot peeped as she walked 
 a short jacket showed the drawing of her shoulders, the delicacy c 
 her waist, and the graceful fall of the hips. She carried in he 
 hand a bouquet of yellow and pink roses, a present from Mont 
 gomery. 
 
 " Now, ladies and gentlemen, I won't detain you long, but do le 
 us run through the third act, so as to have it right for the night 
 ^Montgomery, will you oblige me by playing over that sailo 
 chorus ? " 
 
 Then, to the tinkling of the piano, Dick took tlie girls in section 
 and placed them in the positions he desired them to hold. 
 
 " Now then ; enter the Countess. Who's in love with tli 
 Countess?" 
 
 " Well, if you don't know, I don't know who do?s," said Morti 
 mer. ' ' I hear you have been swearing all the' morning ' tm death di 
 us part.' " 
 
 Koars of laughter greeted this pleasantry, and Dick himself couli 
 not refrain from joining in it. At last he said : 
 
 "Now, Kate dear, do leave off laughing and run through you 
 song." 
 
 " I — ^I — ca — ^n't — can — 't ; you — ^you — are — t — t — too fu — nny.'' 
 
 " We shalLnever get through this act," said Dick, who had jus 
 caught Miss Leslie walking off with Bret into the green-room 
 " Now, Miss LesKe, can't you wait until this rehearsal is over ? " 
 
 " They'll be late for church to-day ; they may as well wait." 
 
 Another roar of laughter followed this remark, and Kate said : 
 
 " You had better give it up, Dick dear ; it wiU be all right a 
 night. I assure you I shall be perfect in my music and wordg." 
 
 ' ' I must go through the act. The principals are responsible f o 
 themselves, but I must look to the chorus. Where's that damna 
 property-master 1 " 
 
 On the subject of rehearsals Dick was always firm, and seeiui 
 that it could not be shirked, the chorus pulled themselves togethei 
 and the act was got through somehow. Then a few more invita 
 tjons were whispered in the corners on the sly, and the party ij 
 couples and groups repaired to the Lennoxes' lodgings. MortimeJ 
 Beaumont, Dick, and Kate walked together, talking of the nigM 
 show. Dubois crushed his bishop's hat over his eyes, straddled hi 
 ostler-like legs, and discussed Wagner's position in music witl 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 223 
 
 Montgomery and Dolly Goddard. A baronet's grandson, a chorus- 
 singer, told how liis ancestor had won the Goodwood Cup half a 
 oentury ago, to tliree ladies in the same position in the theatre as 
 himself. Bret and Leslie followed very slowly, apparently more 
 than ever enchanted with each other. 
 
 For the wedding breakfast, the obliging landlady had given up 
 her own rooms on the ground-floor. The table extended from the 
 fireplace to the cabinet, the panels of which Mortimer was respect- 
 fully requested not to break when he was invited to take the foot 
 of die table and help the cold salmon. The bride and bridegroom 
 took the head, and the soup was placed before them ; for this was 
 not, as Dick explained, a breakfast served by Gunter, but a dinner 
 suitable to people who had been engaged for some time back. At 
 this joke no one knew if they should laugh or not, and Mortimer 
 slyly attracted the attention of the company to Bret and Leslie, who 
 were examining the cake. 
 
 Then all spoke at once of the presents. They were of all sorts, 
 and had come from different parts of the country. Mr. Oox had 
 given a large diamond ring. Leslie had presented Kate with a 
 handsome inkstand. Bret had bought her a small gold bracelet. 
 Dubois, whose fancies were light, offered a fan ; Beaumont, a pair 
 of earrings ; Hayes, a cigarette case ; Dolly Goddard, a paper-knife ; 
 Montgomery, a brooch which must have cost him at least a month's 
 salary. Mortimer exclaimed that his wife had been behaving 
 rather badly lately, and that, &c. But Dick could not listen to his 
 excuses, so overpowered was he when he found on the table a thick 
 gold chain sent to him from the ladies of the chorus. Their inten- 
 tion had been ingeniously kept a secret, and resolving that the sur- 
 prise should be a complete one, they had kept back their gift till 
 the last moment. The kindness of the girls seemed to affect him 
 deeply, and, interrupting Kate, who was thanking her friends for 
 all their tokens of good-wiU, he said : 
 
 " I must really thank the ladies of the chorus for the very hand- 
 some present they made me. How sorry I am that they are not all 
 present to receive my thanks I cannot say ; but those who are here 
 wUl, Ihope, explain to their comrades how we were pressed for place. " 
 
 " One would think you were refusing a free admission," snarled 
 Mortimer. 
 
 " What a bore that fellow is," whispered Dick to Mr. Cox, the 
 proprietor of the company, who had come down from London to 
 arrange some business with his manager. 
 
 "I am sure, Mr. Lennox, we were only too glad to be able to 
 give you something to show you how much we appreciate your 
 kindness," said a tall girl, speaking in the name of the choi-us. 
 
 " We must have some fizz after the show to-night on the stage. 
 Wliat do you think. Cox ? " said Dick. " And then I shall be able 
 to express my thanks to everyone." 
 
 " And we must have a dance," cried Leslie. " My foot is all 
 right now." 
 
221 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 To seat tlie fifteen people who had been invited, chairs had to be 
 fetched in from the bedroom, and even from the kitchen. They 
 were a curious assortment. The ladies did not like sitting together, 
 and the supply of men was not sufficient. But these were slight 
 drawbacks, and when the first few spoonfuls of soup had been 
 eaten and the sherry tasted, everyone wanted to know about 
 Mr. Cox. The women examined him with looks of deep in- 
 quiry, but his face told them nothing ; it was grave and com- 
 mercial, and he spoke little to anyone except Kate and her 
 husband. In the middle of the table the baronet's son sat with the 
 three chorus-girls, whom he continued to pester with calculations 
 as to how much he would be worth, but for his ancestor's ambition 
 to win the Derby with Scotch Coast. Leslie and Bfet were on the 
 other side of the wedding-cake, and they bent and leant towards 
 each other with a thousand little amorous movements. Beaumont 
 and Dolly Goddard sppke vigorously of the' evening's performance, 
 and the former, under pretext of questioning Montgomery on cer- 
 tain points connected with the singing of one of her songs, strove to 
 attract Mr. Cox's attention. 
 
 " Do you think, Mr. Montgomery, that I ought to take an encore 
 — that is to say, if I get one — for my song, ' The Torpedo and the 
 Whale ? ' If I do, wiU it interfere with the action of the piece ? " 
 
 " I never heard of a lady putting the piece before herself," said 
 Montgomery, with a loud laugh. He, too, was anxious to attract 
 Mr. Cox's attention, and availing himself of Miss Beaumont's ques- 
 tion as a "lead-up," he said, "I hope that when my opera is 
 produced I shall find artists who will look as carefully after my 
 interests." 
 
 "But when will you have your opera ready?" said Kate, who 
 saw that she could do something to help her friend. Their eyes met 
 for a moment, and they read each other's thoughts in a look. Mont- 
 gomery's were, " Oh, how bitter it is to lose you like this. You 
 don't know how I love you. No one, I feel sure, could make you 
 as happy as I could." Hers were, "I am so sorry for you; I 
 really, really am. I know that you like me very much, although 
 you never told me so. But you know I love Dick. StUl, I hope 
 we shall remain good friends." 
 
 "My opera?" he said, as soon as she averted the brown eyes 
 that burnt into his soul. " It is all finished. It is ready to put pn 
 the stage when Dick likes." 
 
 The ruse proved successful, for Mr. Cox, bending forward, said 
 in an interested voice : 
 
 "May I ask what is the subject of your opera, Mr. Blont- 
 gomery ? " 
 
 This was charming, and the musician at once proceeded to enter 
 into a complicated explanation, in which frequent allusion was made 
 to a king, a band of conspirators, a neighbouring prince, a beautiful 
 daughter unfortunately in love with a shepherd, and a treacherous 
 minister. Beaumont listened wearilv. and. sfieinrf that no mrntion 
 
, A MUMMER'S WIFE. 225 
 
 she could make of her singing would avail lier, she commenced to 
 fidget abstractedly with one of her big diamond ear-rings. In the 
 meanwhile, Montgomery's difficulties were increasing. To success- 
 fully follow the somewhat intricate story of king, conspirators, and 
 amorous shepherd a sustained effort of attention was necessary, and 
 this Dick, Kate, and Mr. Cox found it difficult to grant. For in 
 the middle of a somewhatinvolved bit — ^in which it was not quite clear 
 whether the king or the minister had entered disguised — ^the land- 
 lady would beg to be excused — if they would just make a little way, 
 so that she might remove the soup. 
 
 This lady, in her Sunday cap, assisted by the maid-of -all- work, 
 from whose canvas-grained hands soap and water had not been able 
 to extract the dirt, strove to lift large dishes of food over the heads 
 of the company. There was a sirloin of beef that had to be placed 
 before Mortimer. Then came two pairs of chickens, the carving of 
 which Dick had taken upon himself. A piece of bacon with cabbage, 
 and a pigeon-pie, adorned the sides of the table. The cutlets were 
 handed round. 
 
 Then for some time conversation gave way to the more necessary 
 occupation of eating ; but as it had been arranged at the head of the 
 table that Montgomery was to play, when they went upstairs, some 
 of the principal numbers of his opera over to Mr. Cox, silent with 
 hope he applied himself to devouring a plate of beef. Even Bret 
 and Leslie left off billing and cooing ; the grandson of the baronet, 
 forgetful of his family's misfortunes on the turf, dug vigorously into 
 and liberally distributed the pigeon-pie. The clattering of knives 
 and forks swelled into a sustained sound, which was only broken by 
 observations such as " Thanks, Mr. Lennox, anything that's handy 
 — a leg, if you please.'' " May I ask you, Montgomery, for a slice 
 of bacon. No cabbage, thank you." " Mr. Mortimer, a little and 
 some gravy ; that'll do nicely." 
 
 It was not until the first helping had been put away, and eyes 
 began to wander in search of what would be best to go on with, 
 that conversation was resumed. To mollify .Mortimer, who had 
 had a good deal of trouble with the beef, Dick said, " I hope you 
 are satisfied with your part, Mortimer, and that we shall have some 
 good roars. The piece ought to go with a scream." 
 
 " I think I shall knock 'em tins time, old boy," said the comic 
 man, drawling his words slowly through his nose. " It pretty well 
 kiUed me when I read it over to myself, so I don't know what it 
 will be when I spit it out at them." 
 
 This was deemed unnecessarily coarse, and for a moment it was 
 feared that Mortimer was as drunk as Mr. Hayes, whose eyes were 
 now begiiming to blink pathetically. He awoke up, however, with a 
 start and a smile when the first champagne cork went off, and hold- 
 ing out his glass, said, "Shall be very glad to drink your health, a 
 wedding only comes once in a life." 
 
 Mortimer tried to turn the embarrassing pause that followed 
 this remark to his profit. The beef having kept him silent during 
 
226 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 the early part of the dinner, he resolved now to prove what i 
 humorist he was, and by raising his voice he strove to attrac 
 to himself the attention of the company. ThiSj however, was no: 
 easily done. Dubois had begun to pinch the canvas-handed maid 
 who was lifting a plate of custards over his head ; but these frivoli 
 ties did not prevent him from discussing Carlyle's place in Englisl 
 literature with the baronet's son on his left, and arguing, from tim{ 
 to time, against certain effects employed by Wagner in liis orche 
 Btration with Montgomery on his right. Kate often laid dowr 
 her spoon and stared vaguely into space. Under the table she ha« 
 laid her hand on Dick's. She was very happy. Her life seemec 
 to her ended — to have been perfectly accomplished. The pasi 
 seemed now to be completely blotted out. What more could siif 
 desire ? She would go on acting, and Dick would continue to lov( 
 her. By some special interposition of Providence all the hazardi 
 of existence over which she might have fallen appeared to hav( 
 been swept aside. What broader road could a woman hope to wall 
 in than the one that lay before her in all its clear and blanc 
 serenity ? Oh, how good God had been to her ! how good He wai 
 going to be ! Her cmld ! his child 1 What sweetness there was ir 
 the words ! and what a tie it would be to them 1 what a source oi 
 future happiness ! Would it not give them courage to work 
 would it not give them strength to live ? It would be something 
 to hope for. Already she speculated if it would be a boy or a girl 
 She saw herself sitting by the cradle ; she already imagined th( 
 vacant, staring blue eyes, and felt the round, plump limbs. Oh 
 how good God had been to her ; and how wicked she had been U 
 Him ! Tears dimmed her eyes, and her heart filled with a fervoui 
 of faith she had never felt before ; and facing the gracious futuri 
 which a child and husbapd promised her, she offered up thanks 
 givings for her happiness, which she accepted as eternal, so in 
 herent did it seem in herself. The murmur of friendly voices ran; 
 in her ears ; she looked up at th,e table, seeing nothing but smilinj 
 lips, until her eyes fell on Mr. Hayes. His face was now nearli 
 hidden In his voluminous white waistcoat, and a richly-ringed han( 
 caressed the famous silky beard. 
 
 " Oh, just look at him I " said Kate, waking up with a start fron 
 her reveries. " How can he make such a beast of himself ? " 
 " Don't take any notice of him, dear ; that's the best way.'' 
 But the advice came too late. Mortimer, who had been vauil; 
 struggling for the last five minutes to draw Beaumont from th 
 memory of a lord, Dubois from his Wagnerian argument, and Bre 
 and Leslie from their flirtation, no w seized on poor Hayes's drunker 
 ness as a net wherein he could capture everybady. Raising hi 
 voice so as to ensure silence, he said, addressing himself to Mi 
 Cox at the, other end of the table, " How very afiecting he is now 
 how severely natural ; the innooonce of a young girl in her teen 
 is not, to my mind, nearly so touching as that of a boozer in lii 
 cups. Have you ever heard how he fancied the waiter was callin 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 227 
 
 him in the morning when the policeman was hauling him off -^o the 
 station ? " 
 
 Mr. Oox had not heard ; and consequently the whole Biory of 
 how they bumped in the hotel door at Derby had to be gone 
 through. Having thus got the company by the ear, Mortimer 
 showed for a long time no signs of letting them go. He went 
 straight through his whole repertoire. He told of a man who 
 wanted to post a letter, but not being able to find tho letter-box, 
 he applied to a policeman. The bobby showed him something red 
 in the distance, and explained that that was the post. " Keep the 
 red in your eye, my boy," said the drunkard ; and this he did 
 untU he found himself in a public-house trying to force his lettar 
 down a soldier's collar. He had mistaken the red coat for the 
 pUlar. This was followed by a story of a man who apologised to 
 the trees in St. James's Park, and explained to them that he had 
 come from a little bachelor's party, until he at last sat down saying, 
 "This no good; I mus — ^mush wait till the pro — prochession has 
 passed." Mr. Cox, to whom these anecdotes were all new, laughed 
 prodigiously ; and thus encouraged, Mortimer told stories of tip- 
 pling drollery, until most of those present eyed the champagne as 
 if considering if it were possible to drink themselves out of their 
 misery. The men especially looked doleful, for they well knew 
 that when the ladies left the room Mortimer would start his series 
 of dirty stories, and that they knew could be prolonged indefinitely. 
 
 Montgomery's face especially assumed an appearance of extreme 
 dejection. When he was sad his long nose appeared to grow longer ; 
 and now, as he thought of his opera, it seemed like competing for 
 length with Mortimer's loquacity. Indeed, there were times when 
 the musician looked as if he despaired of all things, and when he 
 gazed at the clock his face was expressive of the most utter misery. 
 But a heavy digestive indifierence to everything was written on 
 each countenance ; and in the slanting rays of the setting sun the, 
 curling smoke vapours assumed the bluest of tints. Odours of 
 spirits trailed along the tablecloth. Disconnected frE^ments of 
 conversation, heard against the uninterrupted murmur of Mortimer's 
 story-telling voice, struck the ear. The baronet's son was now ex- 
 plaining to his three ladies that no woman could expect to get on in 
 life unless she were very immoral or very rich ; Dubois argued across 
 the table with Leslie and Bret concerning the production of the 
 voice : Beaumont exchanged luminous and provoking glances with 
 Mr. Cox ; Dick talked to Kate of the inartistic methods of most 
 stage managers in arranging the processions. Mr. Hayes slept 
 heavily, and his snores were beginning to attract attention. In 
 Montgomery's ears they sounded as music, suggesting as they did 
 to him, a possible "cue" for the break-up of the party. If they 
 delayed much longer he would not have time to play his opera to 
 Mr. Cox. 
 
 It was Kate, however, who first read the meaning of his despairing 
 glances at the clock, and she whispered to Dick that the cake had 
 
228 A MUMMBB'S WIFE. 
 
 not yet been cut. This was an important consideration, and when 
 she rose to distribute the white-sugared emblem of love and fidelity 
 the wedding party awoke to a burst of enthusiasm. Everyone sug- 
 gested something, and much whisky and water was spilt on the 
 tablecloth. 
 
 But matters, although they were advanced a stage, did not seem 
 to be much expedited. The bride's health had to be drunk, and 
 Dick had to return thanks. He did not say very much, but his 
 remarks concerning OKvette suggested a good deal of comment. 
 Mortimer took a different view of the question, and Dubois explained 
 at length how the piece had been done in France. Leslie insisted 
 that Bret should say something ; and once on his legs, to the sur- 
 prise of everybody, the silent tenor became of the most surprising 
 garrulity. To Montgomery this was a terrible ordeal. His waltz 
 tune, his opening chorus, his serenade, were running together in his 
 head, and he trembled with excitement: twenty times he asked 
 himself, "Will this never end?" At last, in pity for him, Kate 
 made a sign to the ladies. Then skirts swung on the dress- 
 improvers, colour disappeared, and the room was left to the flat 
 chests and tweed coats. The musician prayed that this after-dinner 
 interval would not prove a long one ; but he dreaded the dirty 
 stories, and the door was no sooner closed than they began. The 
 baronet's son sprang off with a clear lead, watched by Mortimer and 
 Dubois. In the way of anecdotes these two would have been rivals 
 had it not been for the latter's fancy for more serious discussions. 
 Still in the invention and collection of the most atrocious, they both 
 employed the energy arid patience of the entomologist. A chance 
 word, out of which a racy story might be extracted, was pursued 
 like a rare moth or a butterfly. Dubois' were more subtle, but 
 Mortimer's, being more to the point, were more generally effective. 
 
 Eagerly they waited for the baronet's son to conclude, and he 
 had hardly pronounced the last phrase when Mortimer, coming with 
 
 a rush, took the lead with " That reminds me of .'' Dubois 
 
 looked discomfited, and settled himself down to waiting for another 
 chance. This, however, did not come just at once ; Mortimer told 
 six stories, each nastier than the last. Everybody was in roars 
 except Montgomery and Dubois ; whilst one thought of his opera, 
 the other raked his memory for something that would out-Herod 
 Mortimer. This was difficult, but when his turn came he surprised 
 the company. Mr. Cox, as he leaned over the table with a glass of 
 whisky and water in hiS hand, declared that he had never spent so 
 pleasant a day in his life. And thus encouraged Dubois was just 
 beginning to launch out into the intricacies of a fresh tale when 
 Montgoinery, beside himself with despair, said to Dick : 
 
 " It was arranged that I should play the music of my new opera 
 over to Mr. Cox. If you don't put a stop to this it will go on for 
 ever." 
 
 " Yes, my boy, it is getting a bit long, isn't it ; just let Dubois 
 finish and we'll go upstairs. " 
 
A MUMMiE'9 WIFE. 229 
 
 The story proved a weary one ; but at last, like a long railway 
 journey, it drew to an end, and they went upstairs. There they 
 tound the ladies yawning and looking at the presents. Kate ran to 
 Dick to ask him to afrange about the music, but Beaumont had been 
 a little before her and had taken Mr. Oox out on the balcony. Bret 
 was not in the room ; Leslie did not know the music, and in the face 
 of so many difficulties, Dick's attention soon began to wander, and 
 Kate was left to console the disappointed musician. Onco or twice 
 she attempted to renew the subject, but was told that they were all 
 going down to the theatre in half-an-hour, that it had better be put 
 oflf to another time. 
 
 Montgomery made no answer, but ho could not cast off the bitter 
 and malignant thought that haunted him, " I am as unfortunate in 
 art as in love." 
 
m 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The date that marked the turning of the tide of prosperity that tUl 
 now had favoured the "Co." was Kate's marriage. Somehow 
 things did not seem to go well after. In the first place the produc- 
 tion of Olivette was not a success. Mortimer was drunk, did not 
 know his words, and went "fluffing" all over the shop. Kate, 
 excited with champagne and complim.ents, on one occasion 
 sang the wrong music, and to complete their misfortunes, the 
 Liverpool public did not in the least tumble to Miss Beaumont's 
 rendering of the part of the heroine. The gallery thought she was 
 too fatj the papers said she was not sprightly enough, and on 
 Wednesday night the old Gloches had to be put up. By this failure 
 the management sustained a heavy loss. They had laid out a lot 
 of money on dresses, property, and scenery, all of which were now 
 useless to them ; and the other two operas, having been on the 
 road for the last three years, were beginning to droop and lose their 
 drawing power. The country, too, was suffering from a great com- 
 mercial crisis, and no one cared to go to the theatre. In many of 
 the towns they visited strikes were on, and the people were con- 
 vulsed with discussions, projects for Tesistanoe, and hopes of better- 
 ing their condition. Great social problems, the tyranny of capital, 
 and such like, occupied the minds of men, and at such times there 
 was naturally little taste for the laughing nonchalance of La Fiik 
 de Madame Angot, or the fooling of the BaUlie in the Cloehes. As 
 forty thousand men had struck work, our band of travelling actors 
 rolled out of Leeds, and they left it bearing with them only a re- 
 miniscence of empty benches, and street-comers crowded with 
 idling, sullen-faced men. At Newcastle they were not more for- 
 tunate, at Wigan they fared even worse, at Hull it was equally bad. 
 Gaiety seemed to have fled out of the north ; the public-house and 
 the platform drew away the pit and the gallery ; the frequenters of 
 the boxes and dress-circle remained at home, to talk around their 
 firesides of their, jeopardized fortunes. When the workers grow 
 weiry of work a hard time sets in for the sellers of amusement, 
 and the fate of Morton and Cox's Operatic Company proved no ex- 
 ception to the rule. Money was made nowhere, and every Friday 
 night a cheque for five-and-twenty pounds had to be sent down 
 from London to make up the deficit in the salary list. For two 
 months matters went on, nevertheless, very smoothly. The re- 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 231 
 
 membrance of large profits made in preceding years waa still fresh 
 in the minds of Messrs. Morton and Cox, and hoping always that 
 business would soon begin to look up, they did not grumble much 
 at losing in these hard times. But still, a constant drain of 
 from five-and-twenty to forty pounds a week soon begins to tell, 
 and after a big failure in the City, in which Mr. Cox was mulcted 
 to the extent of a couple of thousand pounds, he began writing 
 letters full of uneasiness to Dick. The first suggested that they 
 had better look out for another opera. This was welcome news to 
 everybody ; but no sooner had Dick raised Montgomery to the 
 seventh heaven of bliss, than he had to knock him down to earth 
 again, by telling him that another letter had arrived from _Mr. Cox, 
 saying that no opera was to be put up ; that it would be useless to 
 try anything new in such bad times ; that they had bettpr try to 
 reduce expenses instead. 
 
 "Reduce expenses? I don't know what he means. How are we 
 to reduce expenses unless we reduce the salaries ? " 
 
 " Nor do I," said Montgomery ; "-but the expense of mounting 
 my piece would be very slight." 
 
 Without attempting to discuss so vain a question, Dick said, " I 
 must speak to Hayes." 
 
 Hayes was sent round for. He pulled his silky whiskers, blinked 
 his Chinese eyes, drank three glasses of whisky, and changed the 
 position of his Islack bag several times ; and the conversation 
 gradually drift ed into a long argument concerning the morality of 
 leading actresses, and during the afternoon an interesting list of 
 names was compiled. 
 
 This was an agreeable way of dealing with their difficulties, and 
 the matter was scarcely alluded to again until the following fort- 
 night, when Dick found himself forced to write to Mr. Cox, de- 
 manding a cheque for thirty-five pounds, to meet Saturday's treas- 
 ury and the current expenses of the following week. The cheque 
 arrived, but the letter that came with it read very ominously in- 
 deed. It ran as follows : 
 
 " Deab Mr. Lemiox — I enclose you the required amount ; bu^ 
 of course you will understand that this cannot go on. I intend 
 running down to see you on Tuesday evening. Will you have the 
 company assembled to meet me at the theatre, as I have an import- 
 ant explanation to make to them." 
 
 Dick had had too much experience in theatrical speculations not 
 to know that this must mean either a reduction of salaries or a 
 break-up of the tour ; but as two whole days stiU stood between 
 him and the evil hour, it did not occur to him to give the matter 
 another thought, and it was not until they returned home after the 
 theatre, to prepare for the Sunday journey, that he spoke of the 
 letter he had received to Kate. 
 
 Their portmanteaus were spread out before them, and Kkte was 
 counting her petticoats when Dick said, 
 
 *' I'll tell you what, Kate, I shouldn't be surprised if the company 
 
?32 A MtrMMEB'S WIFE. 
 
 broke up shortly, and we found ourselves all obliged to look out 
 for new berths." 
 
 " What do you mean?" she said, with a startled look on her face. 
 
 '' Well, only that I think that Morton and Cox are beginning to 
 get tired of losing money. We have been doing, as yon know, very 
 bad business lately, and I think they will give us all the sack." 
 
 " Give us all the sack ! " repeated Kate, mechanically. 
 
 "Yes," said Dick, pursuing his own reflections, " I am afraid it 
 is so. It is a deuced bore, for we were very pleasant together. 
 But I don't think I showed you the letter I got this morning." 
 
 Taking it from his pocket he read it aloud ; but when he raised 
 his eyes to question her as to her opinion regarding it he could only 
 ejaculate : 
 
 ' ' What's the matter, dear ? " 
 
 Pale as the petticoat at her feet, Kate stood with raised eyebrows 
 and hands that twitched at the folds of her dress. 
 
 " Oh Bick ! what shall we do ? We shall starve ; we sha'n't have 
 any place to go to ! " 
 
 " Starve ! " said Dick in astonishment, " not if I know it. We 
 shall easily find something else to do. Besides, I don't care if he 
 does break up the tour. I believe there's a good bit of coin to be 
 made out of the pier theatre at Blackpool. I've been thinking of 
 it for some time. With a good entertainment, you know, and 
 doing it as I should do it. Then you know there's the drama Hard- 
 ing did for me — a version of Wilkie CoUins's story — The Yellow 
 Mask — 'devihsh good it is too I was reading it the other day. We 
 might take a company out with it. Let me see, whom could we get 
 to play in it ? " And, sittmg over his portmanteau, the actor pro- 
 ceeded to cast the piece, commenting as he went along on the quali- 
 fications of the artists, and giving verbal sketches of the characters 
 in the play. " Beaumont would play Virginie first rate, you know 
 — a strong, determined, wicked woman, who stops at nothing. I'd 
 like to play the father ; Mortimer would be very funny as the uncle. 
 We'd have to write in something for you. You couldn't take the 
 sympathetic little girl yet ; you haven't had enough experience." 
 
 Then the expenses of scenery, properties, and posting were gone 
 into, and different estimates were oast up in a dreamy and desul- 
 tory ii|ianner. Kate looked at her husband vaguely, and plunged in 
 a sort of painful wonderment, she asked herself how it was possible 
 to stand on the brink of ruin, and thus calmly make plans for the 
 future. To the actor, whose life had never run for a year without 
 getting entangled in some difficult knot or other, the present hitch 
 did not give the slightest uneasiness. A strange town to face aud 
 half-a-crown in his pocket might cause him some temporary em- 
 barrassment, but a hundred pounds at the bank, and the notoriety 
 of having been for two years the manager of a travelling company, 
 was to Dick an exceptionally brilliant start in life, and it did not 
 occur to him to doubt that he would, as soon as he chose, hop into 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 233 
 
 been engaged in none of these anxious battles for existence, the news 
 of a threatened break up of her world fell with a cruel Shock upon 
 her. She experienced the same dull nervous terror frofti which she 
 had suffered in the early days ^when she had first joined the cpm- 
 pany, but in an aggravated form. For then the fall tide of love 
 and prosperity bore along their bark, and quieted her fears. 
 Buc now in the first puflF of the first squall she saw herself like one 
 wrecked and floating on a spar in a wide and unknown sea of 
 trouble. What was to become of them ? she asked herself, as, sitting 
 on the bed where she would never sleep again, she watched Dick 
 counting on his fingers and looking dreamily into the spaces of some 
 impossible future. The robes of the Bohemian, for the twentieth 
 time since she had donned them, fell from her, and she became 
 again in instincts and tastes a middle-class woman longing for a 
 home, a fixed and tangible fireside where she might sit in the even- 
 ing by her husband's side, mending his shirts, after the work of the 
 day. A sour and deaf detestation of her wandering life rose to her 
 head, and she longed to heff of her husband to give up theatricals, 
 and try and find some other employment ; and she saw herself 
 looking after the daily household duties just as she did when she was 
 Balph's wife. She reproached herself for being such a wicked 
 woman, and it appeared to her more than usually sinful to drive to 
 the station as the church bells were chiming, and spend the hours 
 that should have been passed in praying, in playing " nap," smoking 
 cigarettes, and talking of wigs, make-ups, choruses, and such like. 
 But apparently there was no help for it, and on Monday night, in 
 her excitement, increased by the arrival of Mr. Cox, she could not 
 help getting out of bed to beseech God to be merciful to them : her 
 husband's heavy breathing often interrupted her, it told her that he 
 was her husband, that was her only consolation, and it proved a 
 supreme one. 
 
 It astonished her that he could sleep as he did, having in front of 
 him the terrible to-morrow, when perhaps Mr. Cox would cast them 
 adrift ; and she trembled in every fibre when she stood on the stairs 
 leading to the manager's room. There was a great crowd/, the 
 chorus-girls wedged themselves into a solid mass, and murmured 
 good mornings to each other ; Mortimer told a long story from the 
 top step, Dubois tried to talk of Balzac, whom he had not read, to 
 Montgomery, who, fancying it was a question of a libretto, listened, 
 at once puzzled and interested, whilst Bret, till now silent as the 
 dead, suddenly woke up to the conclusion that it would probably 
 all end in a reduction of salaries. At last Dick appeared and called 
 them into the presence of Mr. Cox. Whisky and water was on the 
 table, and with the silky whiskers plunged in the black bag, Mr. 
 Hayes fumbled aimlessly with many papers. The " boss," looking 
 very grave, twitched at a heavy moustache. When they were all 
 grouped about him, in his deepest and most earnest tones, he ex- 
 plained his misfortunes. For the last four months he had been 
 forced to send down a weekly cheque of not less than five-and- 
 
234 A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 
 
 twenty pounds, sometimes, indeed, the amount had run up tc 
 forty pounds. This, of course, could not go on for ever, he had 
 not the Bank of England behind him. But talking of banks, al- 
 though there was no reason why he should inflict on them an 
 account of his bad luck, he could not refrain from saying that 
 had it not been for a certain bank (now, alas ! well known to 
 fame) he should not be forced to ask them to accept half salaries. 
 The words brought a flush of indignation to Beaumont's cheeks. 
 She made a slight movement, as if she were going to violently 
 repudiate the suggestion, but the silence of those around calmed 
 her, and she contented herself with murmuring to Dolly : 
 
 " This is an old dodge." 
 
 " I will leave you now," said Mr. Cox, " to consult among your- 
 selves as to whether you will acccept my proposal, or if you would 
 prefer me to break up the tour at the end of the week, and pay you 
 your fares back to London." 
 
 As Mr. Cox left the room there was a murmur of inquiry from the 
 chorus ladies, and one or two voices heard above the rest were heard 
 saying, that they did not know how they could manage on less than 
 five-and-twenty shillings a week. These objections were soon 
 silenced by Dick, who in a persuasive little speech explained that 
 the reductiQji of salaries applied to the principals only. 
 
 " Then why derange these ladies and gentlemen by asking them 
 to attend at tJiis meeting 1 " said Mortimer. 
 
 To this question Dick made answer by telling the ladies and 
 gentlemen of the chorus they might withdraw, and the discussion 
 was resumed by those whom it concerned. Beaumont objected to 
 everything. Bret spoke of going back to Liverpool. Dubois ex- 
 plained his opinions on the management of theatres in general, 
 until Dick summoned him back to the point. Were they or were 
 they not going to accept hajf salaries ? At length the matter was 
 decided by Mortimer getting upon a chair and shouting tluough 
 his nose as through a pipe : — 
 
 "I don't know if you're all fond of hot weather, but if you are 
 you'll find it to your taste in London, all the theatres are closed, 
 and the oats are baking on the tiles." 
 
 This brought the argument to a pause, during which Beaumont 
 remembered that grouse were shot in August, and settling her 
 diamonds in her ears, she agreed that the tour was to be con- 
 tinued. A few more remarks were made, and then the party 
 adjourned to a neighbouring "pub" to talk of opera bouffes and 
 bad business. 
 
 The next places they visited were Huddejsfield and Bradford, 
 but the houses they played to were so poor that Mr. Cox summoned 
 a general meeting on the Sunday morning, and told them frankly 
 that he could not go on losing money any longer ; he would how- 
 ever lend them the dresses, and they might start a commonwealth 
 if they liked. After much discussion it was decided to accept his 
 offer, and the afternoon was anent in atvivincf tn rinniHa hnw the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 235 
 
 business was to be carried on. A oommittea was at last formed. 
 It consisted of Dick, Mortimer, Dubois, Montgomery, Bret, and Mr. 
 Hayes, and as they went on to Halifax by an evening train, they 
 settled that the chorus was, hit or miss, to be paid in full, and tho 
 takings then divided, proportionately to the salary previously 
 received, among the principals. 
 
 In the face of the bad times it was a risky experiment, and 
 Williams, the agent in advance, was anxiously looked out for at the 
 station. What did he think ? Was there a chance of their doing a 
 bit of business in the town ? Were there bills up in all the public- 
 houses ? WUliams did not at first understand this unusual display 
 of eagerness, but when the commonwealth was explained to him, 
 his face assumed as grave an expression as the pimples would allow 
 it. He shoved his dust-eaten pot hat on one side, scratched his 
 thin hair, and after some pressing, admitted reluctantly that he 
 didn't think that they would , do much good in the place ; as far as 
 he could see, everybody's ideas were on sU'iking and. politics ; the 
 general election especially was playing the devU witli rxianagers, at 
 least that was what the company that had just left said. 
 
 This was chilling news, and, alas ! each subsequent evening 
 proved only the correctness of Mr. Williams's anticipations. Seven- 
 pound houses were the rule. On Friday and Saturday they had two 
 very fair pits, but this could not compensate for previous losses, 
 and in the end, when all expenses were paid, only five-and-thirty 
 shillings remained to be divided among the principals. Their next 
 try was at Oldham, but matters grew worse instead of better, and 
 on Saturday night five-and-twenty shillings was sorrowfully por- 
 tioned out in equal shares. It did not amount to much more than 
 half-a-crown apiece. Rochdale, however, was not far distant, and, 
 still hoping that times would mend, Morton and Cox's band of 
 travelling actors sped on their way, dreaming of how they could 
 infuse new life into their mumming, and whip up the jaded pleasure- 
 tastes of the miners. But for the moment comic songs proved weak 
 implements in the search for ore, and the committee sitting in the 
 green-room, used likewise as a dressing-room by the two ladies, 
 counted out a miserable four-and-ninepence as the result of a week's 
 hard labour. 
 
 Beaumont fumed before the small glass, and arranged her ear- 
 rings as if she anticipated losing them ; Kate trembled and clung to 
 her husband's arm, Montgomery cast glances at her of sentimental 
 admiration, Mortimer tried to tliink of something funny, Dubois 
 came to the point by asking : 
 
 " Well, what are you going to do with that four-and-ninepence ? 
 it is not worth dividing. I suppose we'd better drink it." 
 
 At the mention of drinks Mr. Hayes blinked and shifted the 
 black bag from the chair to the ground. 
 
 "Yes, that's easily arranged," said Dick, "but what about 
 the tour 3 I for one am not going on at four-and-ninepence a 
 week." 
 
2W A MUMMEK'S "WIFE. 
 
 " Sp— pend— it — in drinks," stuttered Mr. Hayes, awakening to a 
 partial sense of the situation. 
 
 Everybody laughed, but in the pause that ensued each returned 
 to the idea there was no use going on at four-and-ninepence a 
 week. * 
 
 " For we can't live on drink, although Beaumont can upon love,'' 
 said Mortimer, determined to say something. 
 
 But the joke amused no one, and for some time only short and 
 ■ irrelevant sentences broke the long silences. At last Dick said : 
 
 " Well, then, I suppose we'd better break up the tour." 
 
 To this proposal no one made much objection. Murmurs came 
 from different sides that it was a great pity, after having been so 
 long together, that they should have to part company in this way. 
 Montgomery and Dubois contributed largely to this part of the con- 
 versation, and through an atmosphere of whisky and soap-suds arose 
 a soft penetrating poetry concerning the delights of friendship. It 
 was very charming to think and speak in this way, but all hoped, 
 with perhaps the exception of Montgomery, that no one would 
 insist too strongly on this point, for in minds of all new thoughts 
 and schemes had already begun to germinate. Mortimer remem- 
 bered a letter he had received from a London manager ; Dubois saw 
 himself hobnobbing again with the old "pals " in the Strand ; Bret 
 silently dreamed of Miss Leslie's dyed hair and blue eyes, and of his 
 chances of getting into the same company. 
 
 "Then, if it is decided to break up the tour, we must make a 
 subscription to send the chorus back to London," said Dick after a 
 long silence. 
 
 Nobody till now had thought of these unfortunate people and 
 their twenty-five shillings a week, but Dick, always ready to help 
 a lame dog over a stile, planked down two " quid," and called on 
 the others to do what they could in the same way. Mr. Hayes 
 strewed the table instantly with the money he had in his pocket. 
 Mortimer spoke about his wife and mentioned details oi an intimate 
 nature to show how hard up he was, he nevertheless stumped up a 
 " thin 'un." Beaumont, rampant at the idea of "parting," contri- 
 buted the same. Indignant looks were levelled at her, and Dick 
 continued to exhort his friends to be generous. " The poor girls," 
 he declared, " must be got home ; it would never do to leave them 
 starving in Lancashire. Kate, touched by his kindness, gave a 
 sovereign of her savings, aud in this way something over ten pounds 
 was made up, and with that Dick said he thought he could manage. 
 
 This man's humanity was infinite ; the trouble he took to manage 
 everything was marvellous. On Sunday, when Kate was at church, 
 he was down at the railway station trying to find out what were the 
 best arrangements he could make, and on Monday morning when 
 they were all assembled on the platform to bid good-bye to their 
 fellow-workers, it was curious to see this huge man, who at a first 
 impression would be taken for a mere mass of sensuality, rushing 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 237 
 
 poor chorus girls, encouraging them with kind words, and when the 
 train began to move, waving them large and unctuous farewells 
 with his big hat. 
 
 Kate, who since the first shock of the threatened break up of the 
 tour, had gradually grown accustomed to the idea, now wept in 
 silence. Without precisely sufl'ering from any pangs of fear for the 
 future, an immense sadness seemed to ache within her very bones. 
 All tilings were passing away. The flock of girls in whose midst 
 she had lived was gone, a later train would take Mortimer to Lon- 
 don, Bret was bidding them good-bye, Beaumont was consulting a 
 " Bradshaw." How sad it seemed. The theatre and artists, like a 
 luminous dream, were vanishing into darkness. Not a day, nor an 
 hour could she see in front of her. 
 
 " What shall we do now ? " she whispered to Dick, as she Trotted 
 along by his side. 
 
 " Well, I haven't quite made up my mind. I was thinking last 
 night that it wouldn't be a bad idea to make up a little entertain- 
 ment — ^four or five of us — and see what we could do in the manu- 
 facturing towns. Lancashire is, you know, honeycombed with 
 them. Our travelling expenses would amount to a mere nothing. 
 We must have some one to operate on the piano. I wonder if 
 Montgomery would care about coming with us." 
 
 Kate knew perfectly well that he would, and as she happened 
 at that moment to catch sight of the long tails of the Newmarket 
 coat at the other side of the station, she begged of Dick to call to 
 the erratic musician. No sooner was the proposition put forward 
 than it was accepted, and in five minutes, at lunch in a " pub," they 
 were arranging the details of the entertainment. 
 
 " We shall want an agent-in-advance, a biU-poster, or something 
 of that kind," said Montgomery. 
 
 " I have thought of that," replied Dick ; " Williams is our man, 
 he'll see to all that, and I don't know if you know, but he can sing 
 a good song on his own account." 
 
 "Can he? Well then we can't have anyone better — and wha;t 
 shall we take out ? " 
 
 Weil, we must have a little operetta, and I don't think we can do 
 better than Ofi'enbach's Breaking the Spell." 
 
 " Eight you are,''' said Montgomery, pulling out his pocket-book. 
 " Breaking the Spell, so far so good ; now we must have a song or a 
 character sketch to follow, and I don't think it would be a bad idea 
 if we rehearsed a comedietta. What do you say to The Hiippu 
 Pair ? " 
 
 " Eight you are, pencil it down, can't do better, it always goes 
 well ; and then I can sing between ' The Men of Garlic. ' " 
 
 Montgomery looked a little awry at the idea of having to listen 
 to the "Men of Garlic," sung by Dick, but in the discussion tha 
 followed as to what Kate was to do, the disagreeableness of the 
 prospect was lost sight of. 
 
 As Dick anticipated, Williams declared himself delighted to ao- 
 
238 
 
 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 company them in the double cap^ty of bill-poster and occasional 
 singer ; and after a fortnight's rehearsal at Rochdale, the Constella- 
 tion Company startefl on its wanderings. Many drinks had been 
 consumed in seeking for the name ; many stcange combinations of 
 sound and sense had been rejected, and it was not until Dick begaq 
 to draw lines on a piece of paper, aflSxing names to the end of each, 
 that the word suggested itself. W^t joy ! What rapture ! A 
 rush was made to the printers, and in a few hours the following bill 
 was produced — 
 
 THE CONSTELLATION COMPANY. 
 
 MisB Kate D'Arey. 
 * 
 
 My. E. Lennox. 
 * 
 
 Mr. P. Montgomery. 
 
 Mr. B. Wilfems. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 As the Constellation Company drove to the station, Kate pointed 
 out to Dick the curious resemblances that connected in her mind 
 Rochdale with Hanley. Being still a little superstitious, the simi- 
 larity the two towns bore to one another frightened her, and she 
 discovered analogies between her present departure in life, and that 
 she had made a year and a half ago, when she left her husband, 
 Ralph Bde. How strange it was ! Here was the same red town, 
 narrow streets, built of a brick that, under a dull sky, glared to a 
 rich geranium hue. The purplish tints of Hanley alone were want- 
 ing, but the heavy smoke-clouds, and the tall stems of the chimneys, 
 were as numerous in Rochdale as in her native place. And, co- 
 incidence still more marvellous, nature had apparently helped and 
 abetted what man's hand had contrived, for in either town a line of 
 hills swept around the sky. The only difference was, that the 
 characteristics of Rochdale were not so marked as those of Hanley. 
 The lines of the hills, although conceived in the same spirit, were 
 not so rigid and immutable as those of the Staffordshire town, nor 
 did the Lancasliire valley possess the same trenchlike appearance, 
 as that which engirdles the potteries. Perhaps almost as much 
 smoke hung over it ; but it was not so black nor so arid. Between 
 the collections of chimneys there were green undulations, water 
 courses, trees, and stunted hedges, and these spread away until they 
 disappeared amid the hills which in their turn rolled until lost in 
 the waves of the surrounding country. Such is Lancashire ; and as 
 the train steamed along the high embankments, the actors talked 
 of their comic songs. 
 
 Dick was going to sing " The Mulligan Guards " with Kate, and 
 he pointed out during the course of the journey how admirably 
 suited the country was to their kind of entertainment. Towns 
 there were on all sides. Under the green waste of a wold a chimney 
 had been run up, sheds, and labourers' cottages had followed, and 
 in five years, if the factory prospered, this beginning would swell 
 mto a village ; in twenty, it would possess twenty thousand inhabi- 
 tants. For just as in old times did the towns follow the castles, so 
 now do they follow in the wake of the factories. Wolds and 
 factories everywhere ; the arsenic green sides of the former were 
 striped with rough stone walls, or blackened with an occasional coal 
 pit ; the ridges were crested with trees, blown thin by the sea 
 breezes ; whilst in the distance, spread like pieces of a broken chain, 
 
240 ' A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 extended the blue sharp lines of sheds spiked with long chimneys, and 
 crowned with the lowering smoke-cloud, ever exuding and ever 
 staining the white-trailing clouds that filled the autumn sky. Cold 
 shafts of sunlight strayed for a moment on the dead green of the 
 fields, pale as invalids taking the air for the last time before a winter's 
 seclusion ; and later on, when the light mists of evening enveloped 
 the forms bf the hills, the landscape took a strange swinging appear- 
 ance, producing on the spectator a distinct sensation of mobility. 
 
 The first town the Constellation Company stopped at was Bacup. 
 Williams,- who had gone on in front, met them at the station. He 
 declared that he had been in every public-house, that bills had 
 been distributed everywhere, and that he had reason to believe 
 that they would make a bit of money. ' His news was all good 
 until Dick asked about lodgings. Then his pimples grew grave, 
 and he confessed he did not know what they should do. There was 
 but one hotel, and all the rooms were taken. Dick, who on such 
 occasions always took time by the forelock, insisted on starting at 
 once on their search — and up and down the murky streets of the 
 manufacturing town they walked until it was time for them to 
 repair to the Mechanics' Hall, where they were going to play, and 
 get ready for the entertainment. 
 
 The " Mulligan Guards" proved a great success, as did also the 
 operetta, Breaking the Spell. Kate's pretty face and figure won 
 the hearts of the factory hands, and she was applauded to the echo 
 whenever she appeared on the stage ; and so frequent were the 
 encores that it was half -past ten before they had finished their 
 programme, and close on eleven o'clock before they got out of the 
 hall into the street. Then the search for lodgings had to begin 
 again. Montgomery and Williams, being single men, obtained 
 beds, but Kate and Dick were not so easily satisfied, and they found 
 themselves standing under a porch with the lights going out on all 
 sides, and a wet prospect of spending the night in the street, under 
 an umbrella, staring them in the face. At last Dick bethought 
 himself of the police station, but on applying to a policeman he was 
 directed to the back-door of a public-house. " He was pretty sure," 
 whispered the boy in blue, " to get put up there." The door was 
 opened with precaution, and they were allowed in. The place was 
 full of people ; it took them a long time to get served, and they were 
 at length told that in the way of a room nothing could be done for 
 them. Every bed in the house was occupied. Kate raised her eyes 
 to Dick, but her look of misery was anticipated by a rough-faced 
 carter who stood at the counter. 
 
 " You bear up, little woman," he said abruptly ; " don't yo' look 
 so froightent. Yo' shall both come up to my place, if yo' will ; it 
 isna up to much, but oi'U do th' best I can for yo'." 
 
 There was no mistaking the kindness with which the offer was 
 made, though the idea of going to sleep at this rough man's house 
 for the moment staggered even the mummer. But as it was now 
 clear that they would have either to accept their new friend's 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 241 
 
 hospitality, or spend the night on a doorstep, it did not take them 
 long to decide on the former alternative. Their only reason for 
 hesitating was their inability to tuiderstand what were his motives 
 for asking them to come to his place. Then, as if divining the 
 reason of their uncertainty, he said : — 
 
 " I know yo' well, tho' yo' don't know me. I was up at the 'all 
 to-night, and yo' did make me so laugh that I wouldna see yo' in the 
 streets for nothing. Neaw, let it be yea or nay, master." 
 
 For answer, Dick put out his hand ; and when he had thanked 
 the hospitably-inclined carter put some questions to him about the 
 entertainment. Soon the two began to "pal," and after another 
 drink they all went off together. 
 
 After wading down a few sloppy streets, he stopped before a low 
 doorway, and ushered them into what looked like an immense 
 kitchea. They saw rafters overhead and an open staircase ascend- 
 ing, to the upper rooms, as might a ladder through a series of lofts. 
 When a candle had been obtained tlie first thing their host did was 
 to pull his wife out of bed, and insist on his guests getting into it, a 
 request which the woman joined in as heartily as her husband, when 
 the reason for this unceremonious awakening had been explained to 
 her. And so wearied ont were Kate and Dick, and so tempting did 
 any place of rest look to them, that they could offer no opposition 
 to the kind intentions of their host and hostess, and in their bed 
 they slept heavily until roused next morning by a loud trampling of 
 feet passing through their room. It was the family coming down 
 from the lofts above, and as they descended the staircase they wished 
 their guests a broad Lancashire good morning. 
 
 Then, when Kate and Dick had recovered from their astonish- 
 ment, they dressed and went out to buy some provisions, which they 
 hoped to be allowed to cook in the rough kitchen ; but when they 
 returned with their purchases they found the carter's daughter 
 standing before an elaborately prepared breakfast, consisting of a 
 huge beefsteak and a high pile of cakes. 
 
 , " Lor, marm, why did yo' buy thoose things ? " said the girl, 
 disappointed. 
 
 " Well," said Kate, " we couldn't think of trespassing on you 
 in that fashion. You must, you wiU, I hope, let us prepare our 
 own breakfast." 
 
 "Feyther will never 'ear of it, I know," said the girl; and 
 immediately after, the carter, with his brawny arms, pushed Kate 
 and Dick down into two seats at the big table. Both cake 
 and meat were delicious, and Dick's appetite showed such signs 
 of outdoing the carter's that Kate, for mere shame, in the hope 
 of diverting attention, comjpenced an interesting conversation 
 with the buxom maiden by her side, and so successful were her 
 efforts at agreeabUity that a friendship was soon established be- 
 tween the women ; and, when the morning's work was done, Mary, 
 of her own accord, sought out Kate, and as she knitted the thick 
 woollen stocking, was easily led into telling the inevitable love story. 
 
242 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 We change the surroundings, but a heart bleeds under all soci 
 variations ; and in this grim manufacturing town the bridal drei 
 seemed, when taken out of its lavender and darkness, to gossei 
 a gleam of poetic whiteness that it could not have had even if set o 
 by the pleasant verdure of a Devonshire lane. 
 
 "But you'll keep it for another ; another will be sure to con 
 by very soon," said Kate, trying to console. 
 
 "Nay, nay, I'll have no other," said the girl "I'll just kee 
 the dress by ; but I'll have no other." 
 
 Then the conversation lapsed into a long narrative conoemir 
 tender hopes and illusions not broken through until the party a 
 sembled before the altar rails. Kate listened, as all women do, i 
 the story of heart-aches and deceptions, and in after years, when a 
 other remembrances of the black country were swept away, tl 
 souvenir of this white dress remained. 
 
 From Bacup they went to Whitworth, a town in such immedial 
 neighbourhood that it might be called a suburb of the former plao 
 There they played in the Co-operative Hall, to an audience conais 
 ing of a factory man, two children, and a postman who came in c 
 the free list. This was not encouraging ; but they, nevertheles 
 resolved to try the place again ; and next day at dinner-time, as tl 
 "hands " were leaving the factories, they distributed some hundrei 
 of bills. Dick said he should never forget it: to watch Pimp) 
 Face cutting about, shoving his bills into the women's aproni 
 was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life. But the 
 efforts were all in vain. It rained like mad, not a soul cam 
 to see them ; and, in addition to their other troubles, Whi 
 worth was found to be an awkward place to stop at. Die 
 and his wife had a room in a pub ; Montgomery and Willian 
 had to walk over each evening to sleep at Bacup. One da 
 their landlady spoke of Clayton-le-Moors. A fair, she said, wi 
 being held, and she advised the Constellation Company to try the 
 entertainment there. This was regarded in the light of a sensib 
 suggestion, and after a little reflection, on the top of an omnibu 
 with their wigs and dresses and make-ups stuck under their leg 
 the four mummers started for the fair. It was a magnificent autuii 
 morning. The sunlight rolled over the .great white sides of tl 
 booths. Aunt Sallies were being shied at, the pubs were all opei 
 and a huge, rollicking population, fetid with the fermenting swe 
 of the factories, were disporting themselves on whisky and fresh ai 
 A fairer prospect of a harvest never buoyed up with hope the spiri 
 of dejected strolling players. The next thing to do was to distribu 
 the handbills, and find a place where they could set up their she 
 But here lay the difficulty, and, to conduct their search mo 
 thoroughly, they separated, after having decided on a rendezvoi 
 In this way the town was thoroughly ransacked ; but it was not un 
 Kate, who had gone off on her own accord, learnt from the landlo 
 of a public-house, where she had entered tia get a drink, that he hi 
 a large concert-room overhead, that there seemed to be slightc 
 
A MUMMBK'S WIFB. 243 
 
 chance of the Constellation Company being able to turn the joviality 
 of the factory hands at the fair to any account. Matters seemed 
 now to be looking up, and a very neat little arrangement was entered 
 into with the proprietor of the pub. It was as follows. Four enter- 
 tainments of ten minutes each were to be given every hour, for each 
 of which the sum of threepence a head was to be charged, twopence 
 to go to_ the artists, a penny to the landlord, who would, of course, 
 make his " bit " also out of the drink supplied. And what a success 
 they had that day ! Kot only did the factory hands come in, but 
 they paid their threepences over and over again. Of hearing Dick 
 and Kate sing the " Mlilligan Guards " they seemed never to grow 
 tired, and when she called out " Corps," and he touched his cap, and 
 they broke into a dance, the delight of the workpeople knew no 
 bounds. Often they stopped the entertainment to hand up their 
 mugs of beer to the mummers with a " 'Ave a soop, mon." 
 
 From twelve o'clock in the day until eleven at night the affair 
 was kept going ; Kate, Dick, and Williams dancing and singing in 
 turn, and Montgomery all the while spanking away at the dominoes. 
 It was heavy work, but the coin they took was considerable, and it 
 came in handy, for in the next three towns they did very badly. 
 But at Padiham, a curious accident turned out in the end very 
 luckily for them. There were but five people in the house, one of 
 whom was drunk. This fellow very humorously in the middle of 
 the entertainment declared that he was going to sing a song. He 
 even wanted to appropriate Williams's wig, and when Dick, who 
 was always chucker-out on such occasions, attempted to eject him, 
 he climbed out of reach and lodged himself in one of the windows. 
 From there he proceeded to call to the people in the street, and 
 with such excellent result that that evening they had £18 in 
 the haU. 
 
 This, and similar slices of good fortune, kept the Constellation 
 Company rolling from one adventure, from one town to another. 
 Sometimes a wet day came to their assistance ; sometimes a dis- 
 pute between some factory hands and the masters brought theiu 
 a little money. Their wants were simple ; a bed in a pub, 
 and a steak for dinner, was all they asked for. But at last, 
 as winter wore on, Ul fortune commenced to follow them 
 very closely and persistently. They had been to four different 
 towns and had not made a ten pound note to divide between 
 the lot of them. In the face of such adversity it was not worth 
 while keeping on, besides Kate's expected confinement ren- 
 dered it impossible to ' prolong their little tour much further. 
 For these reasons, one November morning the Constellation Com- 
 pany, hoping they would soon meet again, under more auspicious- 
 circumstances, bade each other goodbye at the railway station. 
 Williams and Montgomery went to Liverpool, Kate and Dick to 
 make a stay at Rochdale, where they had heard that many com- 
 panies were coming. The companies came, it is true, but they 
 were, unfortunately, filled up, and Lennox and his wife could not 
 
2il A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 get an engagement in any of them. The little money saved out of 
 their tour enabled them to keep body and soul together for about a 
 month ; but in the fifth week, they found themselves telling the 
 landlady lies, and going through all the classic excuses — expecting' 
 a letter every day, by Monday at the very latest, &c. This in the 
 face of Kate's approaching confinement, was a state of things that 
 made even Dick begin to look anxiously round and fear for the 
 safety of the future. Kate, on the contrary, although fretted and 
 wearied, took matters more easily than might have been expected ; 
 and the changing of their last ton shillings frightened her less than 
 had the first announcement of the possible breaking up of Morton 
 and Cox's Operatic Company. Bohemianism had achieved in her 
 its last victory ; and having lately seen so many of the difficulties 
 of life solving themselves in ways that were inexplicable to her, she 
 had unconsciously grown to think that there was no knot that 
 chance, luck, or fate would not untie. Besides, her big Dick's 
 resources were apparently unlimited ; the present weakness of 
 her condition tended to induce her to rely more than ever upon 
 his protection ; and in the lassitude of weak hopes, slie contented 
 herself with praying occasionally that all would yet come right. 
 But her lover, although he told her nothing of his fears, was not so 
 satisfied. Never before had he been quite so hard pressed. They 
 owed now a week's rent, besides other small debts ; all of which, 
 unless they pawned the remainder of their clothes, they were unable 
 to pay. Far better, he said, it would be for them to go to Man- 
 chester, leaving their things, to be redeeined some day, as security 
 with the landlady — that is to say, if they failed to get out of the 
 house without being perceived by her. HaH-a-crown still remained 
 to them that would pay Kate's railway fare. As regards himself, 
 Dick proposed that he should do the journey on foot ; he would be 
 able to walk the distance easily in three hours, and would at eleven 
 o'clock join his wife at an address which he gave her, with many 
 injunctions as to the story that was to be told to the landlady. So, 
 as the clocks were Btriking seven one cold winter's morning, they 
 stole quietly downstairs, Dick canying a small portmanteau. On 
 the table of their room a letter was left, explaining that a telegram 
 received over night called them to Manchester, but that they 
 hoped to be back again in a few days — a week at latest. 
 
 This assurance Dick considered would amply satisfy the old dame, 
 and holding the portmanteau on his shouldpr with one arm, and 
 supporting Kate with the 6ther, he made his way to the station. 
 
 The day had not yet begun to break. A heavy, sluggish night 
 hung over the town. The streets were filled with puddles and flowing 
 mud ; and Kat? was frequently obliged to stop and rest against the 
 lamp-posts. She complained of feeling very ill, and she walked 
 with much difficulty. In the straggling light of the gas, Dick 
 looked at her pale, pretty features, accentuated by suffering : he 
 felt that he had never known before how dearly he loved her, and 
 the pity for her that filled his heart choked liim when he attempted 
 
A MUMlffiK'S WIFE. 246 
 
 to speak : and his eyes misted with tenderness. To have to leave 
 her now, although only for a few hours, seemed to him a brutality 
 that was utterly unbearable. He thought of the old dodge of 
 travelling on the luggage, but fearing that the woman to whose 
 house ithey were going would not let them in unless they had at 
 least one portmanteau to show, he determined to adhere to the 
 original plan of sending Kate on in front. Although tortured by 
 atrocious imaginings, hiding his fears, he assured her that their 
 troubles would be over once they set foot in Manchester : all he 
 had to do was to go down to the Theatre Royal to get an engage- 
 ment. So kindly did he speak, that to learn that he loved her 
 seemed to repay her for her sufferings. For some days past she 
 had been subject to violent nauseas and aoute pains, and as she 
 bade him good-bye out of the railway-carriage window, she had 
 to bend and press herself against it. Dick read from her face what 
 was passing, and he strove to encourage her with a few words 
 of hope. But a cloud of deep melancholy settled upon the 
 cheeks, generally so restful in a happy animality — yet the fat hand 
 lifted the big-brimmed black felt hat, the frizzly curls blew in the 
 cold wind, ^e train oscillated and then rolled and disappeared 
 round a bend in the line. That was all. What had been done 
 was over, as completely as the splash made by a stone dropped into 
 a well, and the actor awoke to a feeling that something new had 
 again to be begun. 
 
 After descending tlie steps of the station, he asked to be directed, 
 and bravely he started to walk from Bochdale to Manchester. For 
 a long time his way lay through an interminable street, made by red 
 brick houses with stucco porches ; but at length these commenced 
 to divide into cottages; — and, curious characteristic, the pavements 
 were lined with immense flag-stones, set on end and bound together 
 with iron clasps. After many inquiries, he was shown into what he 
 was told was an old Roman road, called " Going over Tindel." In 
 front of him often arose the green mass of a hill dirtied with tillage ; 
 on the left stretched a wide valley, at the upper end of which lay 
 Rochdale. From the snow-patched wolds the wind blew bitterly, 
 and into a murky sky the trees that fretted the higher ridges 
 melted like veils of grey lace. 
 
 Walking was not Dick's forte. He was out of condition. Each 
 steep incEne deprived him of breath. Leaning against a farm 
 gate, his eyes embraced the wild black scenery, and remem- 
 brances of the Hanley hills drifted through liis thoughts. 
 There were the same rolling wastes, and, as the pieces on a 
 chess-board, the factory chimneys appeared at irregular inter- 
 vals. But these topographical similarities attracted Dick only 
 so far as they filled his mind with old memories and associ- 
 ations, and his thoughts flowed from the time he had stood with 
 his wife at the top of Market Street to the present hour. He 
 neither praised nor blamed himself. He accepted things as they 
 were without criticism, and they appeared to liiin like a turgid 
 
24 i A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 get an engagement in any of them. The little money saved out of 
 their tour enabled them to keep body and soul together for about a 
 month ; but in the fifth week, they found themselves telling the 
 landlady lies, and going through all the classic excuses — expecting' 
 a letter every day, by Monday at the very latest, &c. This in the 
 face of Kate's approacliing confinement, was a state of things that 
 made even Dick begin to look anxiously round and fear for the 
 safety of the future. Kate, on the contrary, although fretted and 
 ■wearied, took matters more easily than might have been expected ; 
 and the changing of their last ten shillings frightened her less than 
 had the first announcement of the possible breaking up of Morton 
 and Cox's Operatic Company. Bohemianism had achieved in her 
 its last victory ; and having lately seen so many of the difficulties 
 of life solving themselves in ways that were inexplicable to her, she 
 had unconsciously grown to think that there was no knot that 
 chance, luck, or fate would not untie. Besides, her big Dick's 
 resources were apparently unlimited ; the present weakness of 
 her condition tended to induce her to rely more than ever upon 
 his protection ; and in the lassitude of weak hopes, she contented 
 herself with praying occasionally that all would yet come right. 
 But her lover, although he told her nothing of his fears, was not so 
 satisfied. Never before had he been quite so hard pressed. They 
 owed now a week's rent, besides other small debts ; all of which, 
 unless they pawned the remainder of their clothes, they were unable 
 to pay. Far better, he said, it would be for them to go to Man- 
 chester, leaving their things, to be redeemed some day, as security 
 with the landlady — that is to say, if they failed to get out of the 
 house without being perceived by her. HaK-a-crown BtUl remained 
 to them that would pay Kate's railway fare. As regards himself, 
 Dick proposed that he should do the journey on foot ; he would be 
 able to walk the distance easily in three hours, and would at eleven 
 o'clock join his wife at an address which he gave her, with many 
 injunctions as to the story that was to be told to the landlady. So, 
 as the clocks were striking seven one cold winter's morning, they 
 stole quietly downstairs, Dick carrying a small portmanteau. On 
 the table of their room a letter was left, explaining that a telegram 
 received over night called them to Manchester, but that they 
 hoped to be back again in a few days — a week at latest. 
 
 This assurance Dick considered would amply satisfy the old dame, 
 and holding the portmanteau on his shouldpr with one arm, and 
 supporting Kate with the bther, he made his way to the station. 
 
 The day had not yet begun to break. A heavy, sluggish night 
 hung over the town. The streets were filled with puddles and flowing 
 mud ; and Kate was frequently obbged to stop and rest against the 
 lamp-posts. She complained of feeling very ill, and she walked 
 with much diffi.culty. In the straggling light of the gas, Dick 
 looked at her pale, pretty features, accentuated by sufiering : he 
 felt that he had never known before how dearly he loved her, and 
 the pity for her that filled his heart choked him when he attempted 
 
A MUIIMEK'S WIFE. 246 
 
 to speak : and his eyes misted with tenderness. To have to leave 
 her now, although only for a few hours, seemed to him a brutality 
 that was utterly unbearable. He thought of the old dodge of 
 travelling on the luggage, but fearing that tJie woman to whose 
 house .they were going would not let them in unless they had at 
 least one portmanteau to show, he determined to adhere to the 
 original plan of sending Kate on in front. Although tortured by 
 atrocious imaginings, hiding his fears, he assured her that their 
 troubles would be over once they set foot in Manchester : all he 
 had to do was to go down to the Theatre Eoyal to get an engage- 
 ment. So kindly did he speak, that to learn that he loved her 
 seemed to repay her for her sufferings. For some days past she 
 had been subject to violent nauseas and acute pains, and as she 
 bade liim good-bye out of the railway-carriage window, she had 
 to bend and press herself against it. Dick read from her face what 
 was passing, and he strove to encourage her with a few words 
 of hope. But a cloud of deep melancholy settled upon the 
 cheeks, generally so restful in a happy animality — yet the fat hand 
 lifted the big-brimmed black felt hat, the frizdy curls blew in the 
 cold wind, the train oscillated and then rolled and disappeared 
 round a bend in the line. That was all. What had been done 
 was over, as completely as the splash made by a stone dropped into 
 a well, and the actor awoke to a feeling that something new had 
 again to be begun. 
 
 After descending tlie steps of the station, he asked to be directed, 
 and bravely he started to walk from Rochdale to Manchester. For 
 a long time his way lay through an interminable street, made by red 
 brick houses with stucco porches ; but at length these commenced 
 to divide into cottages; — and, curious characteristic, the pavements 
 were lined with immense flag-stones, set on end and bound together 
 with iron clasps. After many inquiries, he was shown into what he 
 was told was an old Roman road, called " Going over Tindel." In 
 front of him often arose the green mass of a hill dirtied with tillage ; 
 on the left stretched a wide valley, at the upper end of which lay 
 Rochdale. From the snow-patched wolds the wind blew bitterly, 
 and into a murky sky the trees that fretted the higher ridges 
 melted like veils of grey lace. 
 
 Walking was not Dick's forte. He was out of condition. Each 
 steep incline deprived him of breath. Leaning against a farm 
 gate, his eyes embraced the wild black scenery, and remem-* 
 brances of the Hanley liills drifted through his thoughts. 
 There were the same rolling wastes, and, as the pieces on a 
 chess-board, the factory chimneys appeared at irregular inter- 
 vals. But these topographical similarities attracted Dick only 
 so far as they filled his mind with old memories and associ- 
 ations, and his thoughts flowed from the time he had stood with 
 his wife at the top of Market Street to the present hour. He 
 neither praised nor blamed himself. He accepted things as they 
 were without criticism, and they appeared to liim like a turgid 
 
246 A MXJMMBR'S WIFE. 
 
 drea,m, awoUen and bleak as the confused expanse of distance before 
 him. The stupor into which he occasionally fell, endured until a 
 quick thought would strike through the mental gloom that oppressed 
 him, and, relinquishing the farm gate, he would moodily resume his 
 walk through the heavy slosh of the wet roads. As he did so his 
 thoughts knotted themselves into cruel and tortuous shapes. The 
 vision of Kate's pain-stricken face haunted him, and at every step 
 his horror of the danger she ran of being taken ill before arriving in 
 Manchester grew darker and deeper. Dead as was his imagination 
 to spiritual, it was quick to appreciate all physical suffering. His 
 pity being bom of the flesh, concerned itself with the flesh, and with 
 it only, and, panting and blowing, he toiled up hill after hill, 
 yearning to be near her, desiring only the power to relieve and to help. 
 Memories of all he had heard and rPad of what was a woman's agony 
 under such circimistances came to him in burning flashes, and spurred 
 him on like a jaded horse up the severe roads. Often the intensity 
 of his longing would force him into a run, and then the farai 
 la.bourers would turn from their work to gaze on this huge creature, 
 who stood on a hill-top wearily wiping his forehead. 
 
 In those moments he grew sick of the long staring, roUing, land- 
 scape, with its thousand sinuosities, its standard trees, its detailed 
 foreground of scrub, hedges, brooks, spanned by small brick bridges, 
 the melting distance, the murky sky, the belching chimneys : he 
 asked himself if it would never end, if it would never define itself 
 into the streets of Manchester. And as he descended each incline 
 his eyes searched for the indication of a town, until at last he saw 
 lines of smoke, factories, and masses of brick on his left, and his 
 heart big with expectation, he hastened towards it. All the mark- 
 ings of the way were looked forward to, the outlying streets were 
 deemed interminable, and so great was his hurry that before he dis- 
 covered he was in Oldham, he had walked into the middle of the 
 town. His disappointment was bitter and black, and for the 
 moment he felt that, come what would, he could go no farther ; 
 his courage was exhausted, it was impossible he could face that 
 bleak mocking landscape again. Besides, he was fainting for want 
 of food. Had he possessed a few pence to treat himself to a glass of 
 beer and a bit of bread and cheese, he thought he would be able to 
 pull himself together and make another effort ; but he was utterly 
 destitute. StUl he was forced to try again. The thought of Kate 
 burned in his brain. After having enquired the way, wifli weary and 
 ■aching feet, he once more trudged manfully on. A fretful suspicion 
 that she might not find the landlady as agreeable as would under the 
 circiunstances be desirable now haunted liim. He reasoned with 
 himself as he crossed into the open country, until anxiety became 
 absorbed by fatigue. Of every passer by did he ask the way, and as 
 he passed the stately villas that heralded the presence of the reek- 
 ing centre of commerce that lay behind, Dick felt that had there 
 been much further to walk he would have had to beg a lift from one 
 of the waggoners who coiutautly passed him driving their heavy 
 
A MUMMER'S "WIFE. 247 
 
 teams. But he was now in Manchester, another half hour would 
 see him in his wife's arms ; and wondering what had happened 
 since their parting, he stared into the shop windows in search of a 
 clock. He had taken longer to do the distance than he had expected. 
 It was now mid-day, in torn: hours anything might have happened, 
 and when he rang at the door of the lodging-house his heart beat as 
 rapidly as the jangling bell that pealed liirough the house. The 
 classic maid-of-all-work, begrimed with her pots and pans, answered 
 him, and in reply to his questions declared positively that no one 
 had called that morning, and that she had heard "nothing of no 
 lady." 
 
 Had the world suddenly given way beneath him it would not 
 have been to him a more complete annihilation. His brain rocked, 
 and it was only by a violent effort that he could continue his ques- 
 tions. Upon cross examination the maid admitted that she had 
 been out on an errand, and had not seen missus since ten o'clock. 
 It vraa, therefore, possible tbst a lady might have called, but as for 
 being in the house, it was impossible, for they were as full as they, 
 could hold. On hearing this Dick drew a deep breath of rehef, 
 his terror faded ; and the view, the street, the door step, the maid, 
 assumed their natural appearance, just as if tiiey had been lifted 
 out of a fog. 
 
 " And are you certain that a lady might have called about ten or 
 half-past without your having seen her?" 
 
 " I was out of a herrant at that time, so I am sure they might, 
 for missus wouldn't mind to tell me if I wasn't to get rooms ready 
 for them." 
 
 " And what would your mistress do in the case of not being able 
 to supply a lady with rooms ? " 
 
 " She would send, I should think, round to Mra. well, I don't 
 
 remember right the name." 
 
 " Do you know the address ? " 
 
 " I know it is behind the station, one of those streets where— 
 nay— but 1 don't think I could direct you right." 
 
 " Then what shall I do ? " 
 
 " Missus will be in shortly. If you will take a seat in the 'all, I 
 can't ask you into any other room, they're all occupied." 
 
 There was n&thing to do but to accept, and after having asked 
 when the landlady might be expected in, and receiving the inevit- 
 able, " Eeally couldn't say for certain, sir, but I don't thmk she'll be 
 long," he sat down in a chair. His thoughts were as tired as his 
 body, but a ferocious anxiety preyed upon him and allowed him no 
 rest. Visions of stretchers and hospital doors rose before his eyes, 
 and the high shrieks of a woman in labour echoed in his ears. 
 Weary, footsore as he was, there were times when struck by a sudden 
 thought he would make a movement as if to start from his seat ; 
 but instantly remembering his own powerlessnoss, he would slip 
 back into his attitude of heavy fatigue. In the dining-room the 
 clock ticked, and he listened to the invincible march of the minutes. 
 
248 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 wondering when the landlady would be back, tortured by the idea 
 that his wife was suffering, dying, and that he was not near to help, 
 to assist, to assuagfe. He forgot that they were penniless, home- 
 less, all was lost in a boundless pity, and he listened to the footsteps 
 growing sharper as they approached, and duller as they went. At 
 last the small sound of the latchkey was heard in the lock, and Dick 
 started to his feet. It was the landady. 
 
 " Have you seen my wife ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," exclaimed the astonished woman ; " she was here 
 this morning, all our rooms are let, so I couldn't— — " 
 
 " Where is she gone to, do you know ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I was going to say, she asked me if I could recom- 
 mend her to some quiet place, and I sent her to Mrs. Hurley's." 
 
 "And will you give me Mrs. Hurley's address? " 
 
 "Yes, sir, certainly ; but if I may make so bold, you are looking 
 very tired, may I offer you a glass of beer ? And Mrs. Lennox is 
 looking very bad too, she is." 
 
 " I am much obliged, but I have no time, if you would give me 
 the address ? " 
 
 No sooner were the words spoken than, forgetful of his aching 
 feet, Dick rushed away, and dodging the passers-by, he ran until he 
 laid hands on the knocker and bell in question. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Lennox staying here?" he asked of the lady who opened 
 the door. 
 
 " There was a lady of that name who inquired for rooms hero 
 this morning." 
 
 " And isn't she here ? Why didn't she take the rooms 1 " 
 
 " Well, sir, she said she was expecting to be confined, and 1 
 didn't care to have illness in my house." 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me that you turned her out ? Oh, you 
 atrocious ! If you were a man " 
 
 Overpowered with rage he stopped for words, and the woman, 
 fearing he would strike her, strove to shut the door. But Dick, 
 with his thick leg, prevented her, and at this moment they were 
 joined by the maid, who, speaking over her mistress's shoulufcr, 
 screamed : 
 
 "The lady said she would come round here in a couple o' hours' 
 time to ask for you, and I advised her to try for rooms at No. 28 in 
 the street. You'll find her there." 
 
 This was enough for Dick, who, loosing his hold on the door, 
 made off ; streets, carriages, passers-by, whirled before his eyes. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Lennox here ? " he asked, when the door was opened, 
 80 roughly that the maid regretted having said yes, when the word 
 had passed her lips. 
 
 "On what floor?" 
 
 " The first, sir ; but you had better lot me go up first. Mrs. 
 Lennox is not very well ; she's expecting her husband." 
 
 " I am her husband." 
 
 And on that Dick rushed at the staircase. A few strides brought 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE, • 249 
 
 him on to tlie first landing ; but a sudden disappointment seized 
 him — the sitting-room was empty. Thinking instantly of the bed- 
 room, he flung open the door, and there he saw Kate^ rocldng her- 
 self to and fro, sitting on the edge of the bed. ' Uttering a faint 
 cry of mingled feelings, she rose to her feet ; the expression of 
 weary pain was changed to one of illimitable joy, and Dick looked 
 her in his arms. 
 
 " I thought you would never come, and they would take me 
 in nowhere." 
 
 " Yes, my darling, I know all about it ; I know all." 
 _ Kisses he laid gently on the rich black-blue hair and the pale 
 tired face ; he felt light hands resting on him ; she felt strong 
 arms clasped about her, and each soul seemed to be but the reflec- 
 tion of the other, just as the sky and the sea are when the sun is 
 at its meridian. 
 
 Then, as this brief but inefiable moment of spiritual unison 
 faded by gentle transitions, words returned to them, and Kate spoke 
 of all she had suffered. She whispered, fearful lest any one should 
 overhear, the story she had told the landlady, and how she had 
 ordered a big dinner, and everything of the best, so that they might 
 not be suspected of being hard up. Dick approved of these 
 arrangements ; but just as he smacked his lips, a foretaste of the 
 leg of mutton in his mouth, Kate uttered a sort of lo'w cry, and, 
 turning pale, pressed her hands to her side. A sharp pain had 
 suddenly run through her, and as quickly died away ; but a few 
 minutes after this was succeeded by another, which lasted longer 
 and gripped her more acutely. Supporting her in his arms, largely 
 and tenderly, he helped her across the room and laid her on the 
 bed. There she seemed to experience some relief ; but very soon 
 she was again seized by the most acute pangs. It seemed to her 
 that she was bound about with a buckler of iron. Frightened, Dick 
 rang for the landlady. The worthy woman saw at a glance what 
 was happening, and sent him off', weary as he was, to fetch a doctoi 
 and the noedf lil assistance. 
 
^0 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 The doctor and nurse arrived almost simultaneously, and bid- 
 ding Dick, who came running up-stairs a moment after, be of 
 good oheer, they passed into the sick-room. The mummer took 
 his hat from his head and stood for a moment staring vacantly 
 at the bedroom door, as if striving there to read the secrets of 
 life, birth and death. Then, remembering how tired he was, 
 with a large movement of fatigue he sat down on the sofa. The 
 day was beginning to die, and a gloomy yellow sky filled the room 
 with an oppressive and mournful twilight. To relieve his aching 
 feet Dick had kicked off his shoes, and with his folded arms pressed 
 against his stomach he sat hour after hour, too hungry to sleep, 
 listening to the low moaning that came, as if from some hurt 
 animal, through the chinks of the door. He appeared to be totally 
 forgotten. Voices whispered on the staircase, people passed hur- 
 riedly through the sitting-room, but none asked him if he wanted 
 anything ; no one even noticed him. As an alien he was ignored 
 in the drama that was being enacted, and when the landlady lighted 
 the gas she uttered a cry of astonishment, as if she had discovered 
 an intruder in the room. 
 
 " Oh, lawks ! Mr. Lennox, we had forgotten all about you,, and 
 you sittin' there so quiet. But your wife is getting on nice, she 
 has just had a cup of beef tea ; in about another couple of hours it 
 will be all over." 
 
 " Is she suffering much ! " 
 
 " Well sir, yes, T wouldn't consider it an easy confinement ; but 
 I think it will be all right, you will see your wife and child alive 
 and well to-morrow morning." 
 
 Dick could not help doubting, unless she came to his assistance 
 with food, the truth of the woman's statement. Although almost 
 starving, he was afraid to call for dinner lest she should ask him for 
 some money in advance, but at that moment a cramp seized him, 
 and turning pale he had to lean over the table to suppress the moan 
 which rose to his lips. 
 
 " What's the matter, sir ? You look quite ill," the woman asked. 
 
 "Oh, 'twas only a sudden pain," said Dick, making an effort to 
 recover himself. "I have eaten nothing all day — ^have had no 
 ime, you know." 
 
 " Then we shall have you laid up as \^llas your wife, and there's 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 25] 
 
 the leg of mutton she ordered stewing away all these hours. I'm 
 afraid you won't be able to eat it ? " 
 
 Absurd as the question appeared to him, Dick answered adroitly, 
 
 " " ''^ill do very well, if you will bring it up as soon as you can ; 
 I may have to go out." 
 
 This was intended as a ruse to deceive the landlady, for so tired 
 was he that had it been to save Kate's life he did not think he 
 would have walked downstairs. He could think of nothing but 
 putting something into his stomach, and hard and dry as the mutton 
 was it seemed to him the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. 
 His pain melted away with the first mouthful, and the glass of beer 
 ran through and warmed his entire system. Down the great throat 
 the victuals disappeared as if by magic, and almost unheeded 
 passed the. unceasing cry that seemed now to fill the entire house. 
 
 For a moment he would listen pityingly, and then like an animal 
 return to his food. Slice after slice had been cut from the joint, 
 he thought he could finish it, his hunger seemed to grow upon him, 
 and he often longed to take the bone in his hand and pick it with 
 his teeth. But he reasoned with himself ; it would not do to let 
 the landlady suspect they had no money, and as he gazed at the 
 last potato, which he was afraid to eat, he considered what he 
 should say in apology for his appetite ; but as he sought for a nice 
 phrase, something pleasantly facetious, he remembered the terrible 
 straits he was in for want of money. Money he would have to find 
 to-morrow — where, he could not say, but money he would have to 
 find. There were a thousand things that would have to be paid for 
 — the baby's clothes, the cradle, the — ^he tried to think of what was 
 generally wanted under such circumstances, but the cries in the 
 next room which had gradually swelled into shrieks, appalled him. 
 Involuntarily, like a flash, the thought struck him that there might 
 be a funeral to pay for as well as a birth. 
 
 Clasping his hands, he moved out on the staircase to see if he 
 could find the landlady ; the solitude of the cold sitting-room had 
 grown intolerable. As he was about to call out, the bell tinkled, 
 and the maid came running up. She carried a jug of hot water and 
 flannels in her hand, and pushing past him she declared that she 
 hadn't a moment. Everybody seemed to have something to do but 
 him. Returning, he sat down by tlie table and listened. The door 
 of the bedroom was ajar. The room was full of a roseate radiance. 
 A fire burned, candles flared on the mantelpiece, a basin stood on 
 the floor, and at times nothing was heard but a long moan, mingling 
 with the murmvuing voices of the doctor and nurse. The place 
 seemed like a sanctuary in which some mysterious rite was being 
 performed. But suddenly the silence was broken by shrieks so 
 passionate and acute that all the earlier ones were only remembered 
 as feeble lamentations. Dick raised his big face from his hands, 1/ 
 the movement threw back the shock mass of frizzly hair, and in the 1 
 intensity of his emotion he looked like a lion. 
 
 "Was this, then, life?" he asked himcelf, "or death; and by 
 
252 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 whose order was a, human creature tortured thus cruelly ? " The 
 idea of God did not, however, arrest his attention, and his tixoughts 
 fixing themselves on the diild as on a demon of malignity, he prayed 
 through the mystery of birth for life. What was this new life 1 
 What was it to him ! Could it not exist without the sacrifice of the 
 old 1 he asked himself ; and for a lucid interval such reflections 
 flowed rapidly and nervously through the actor's heavy mind ; but he 
 gradually slippedbaok into IJie stupor from which they had raised him, 
 and was not again aroused imtil after a piercing scream h.6 heard 
 a voice, still attuned to the scream that had startled him,exclaiming : 
 
 " Oh, I never will again 1 Oh, how I hate him — ^I cotild kill him 1 
 I'll never love him, never no more." 
 
 The pealing humanity of the cry touched the fat mummer through 
 all the years of gross sensuality, through the indigestion of his big 
 dinner, and, struck by the sense af her words, he shuddered, remem- 
 bering that it was he, not the innocent child, who was the cause of 
 this outrageous suffering. Was it possible, he asked himself, that 
 she would never love him again ? He didn't know. Was it possible 
 that he was culpable 1 Strange notions respecting the origin, the 
 scheme, the design of the universe, flashed in dim chiaro-oscuro 
 through his thoughts, and for a moment he pondered, philosopher 
 like, on the remote causes and the distant finalities of men and thiags. 
 The scene was at once real, ideal, cynical, and pathetic, a sample 
 slice from the incongruous comedy of life. 
 
 In this way an hour full of moans and cries of suffering passed 
 painfully away, and then another shriek scattered Dick's dreams to 
 the winds, and brought him with a shock back to earth ; a second 
 and a third tortured him with feelings of pity that were delirious in 
 their excess ; then a great silence came, and the whole house seemed 
 to sigh with a sense of relief. 
 
 "The baby must be bom now," he said ; and immediately after a 
 little thin cry was heard, and in his heart it was prolonged like a 
 note of gladness, and his thoughts became paternal. He wondered 
 if it were a girl or a boy ; he fancied he'd like a girl best. If she 
 were pretty, and had a bit of a voice, he'd be able to push her to the 
 front, whereas with a boy, that was more difficult. Relinquishing his 
 visions at this point, Dick listened to the silence. He did not, with- 
 out quite knowing why, dare to knock at Hxe door, but the murmur 
 of satisfied voices assured him that aU was right. Still it was very 
 odd that they did not come out and announce the result to him. 
 Did he count for nobody 1 Did they fancy that it was nothing to 
 him if his wife and child were dead or alive ? The idea of being thus 
 completely unconsidered in an affair of such deep concern irritated 
 him, and he walked towards the sofa to brood over his wrongs. 
 Should he, or should he not, knock at the door ? At last he decided 
 that he should, and, after a timid rap, tried the handle. He was 
 immediately confronted by the nurse. 
 
 " It is all right, sir, you shall come in in a moment when the baby 
 is washed. " 
 
A iniMMER'S WIFE. 253 
 
 " Yes, but I want to know how my wife is." 
 
 "She is doing very well, sir ; vou shall see her presently." 
 
 The door was then gently but firmly closed, and Dick was kept 
 waiting. Great as was his anxiety to see his wife, now that the ter- " 
 ror of losing her was over, the fatigue of the day began to press upon 
 him, and when the nurse called for him to come in, almost collapsing 
 under it, he staggered into the rooin. Pale and inert, Kate lay amid 
 the sheets, her beautiful black hair making an ink stain, on the pil- 
 lows. She stretched an exhausted hand to him, and looked at him 
 earnestly and affectionately. To both of them their lives seemed 
 completed. 
 
 "Oh, my darling, my darling!" he murmured; and his heart 
 melted with happiness at the faint pressure of fingers which he held 
 within his. , The nurse standing by him held something red wrapped 
 up in flannels. He scarcely noticed it until he heaid Eate say : 
 
 " It is a little girl. Kiss it, dear." 
 
 Awkwardly he touched with his lips the tiny whining mass of 
 flesh the nurse held forward, feeling, without knowing why, ashamed 
 of himself. 
 
 " Hearing that madam was taken all unexpected, I brought these 
 flannels with me," said the large woman with the long-tailed cap ; 
 " but to-morrow I can recommend you, if you like, sir, to a shop 
 where you can get everything required." 
 
 This speech brought Dick with a cruel jerk to the brink of the 
 atrocious situation in which he had so unexpectedly found himself. 
 To-morrow he would have to find money, and a great deal too. 
 How he was going to do it he did not know, but money would have 
 to be found. 
 
 " Tes, yes ; to-morrow I'll see to all that," he said, awakening 
 from his lethargy, like a jaded horse touched in some new place by 
 the spur, " but now I'm so tired I can scarcely speak." 
 
 " That's so," said the landlady. " These walking tours is dread- 
 ful. He's been over from Bochdale to-day, not coimting the runnin' 
 about he did after his wife. Tou know they refused to take her in 
 at number fifteen. But, sip, I don't well know how we shall manage. 
 I don't see how I am to ofi'er you a bed. The best I can do for you 
 is to make you up something on the sofa in the parlour." 
 
 " Oh, the sofa will do very well. I think I could sleep on the 
 tUes ; so good-night, dear," he said as he leaned and kissed his wife ; 
 ^'I'm sorry to leave you so soon." 
 
 " It isn't a bit too soon," said the doctor. " She must lie still and 
 not talk." , , , , , 
 
 On this Dick was led away. The aurse and doctor consulted by 
 the bed where the woman would lie for days, too weak even to 
 dream while the man went off into the Manchester crowd to search 
 for food. Beyond the bare idea of " going down to see what they 
 were doing at the theatres," he had no plans. The scavenger dog 
 that prowls about the gutter in search of offal could not have less. \ 
 But he felt sure that something would turn up ; he was certain to 
 
254 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 meet someone to whom he could sell a piano or for whom he could 
 build a theatre. He never made plans. There was no use in mak- 
 ing plans ; they were always upset by an accident. Far better, he 
 thought, to trust to the inspiration of the moment ; and when he 
 awoke in the morning, heavy with sleep, he felt no trepidation, no 
 fear beyond that of how he should get his sore feet into his shoes. 
 It was only with a series of groans and curses that he succeeded in 
 doing this, and the limps by which he proceeded down the street 
 were painful to watch. At the stage-door of the Theatre Royal a 
 conciliatory tone of voice was mechanically assumed as he asked the 
 porter if Mr. Jackson was in. But before the official could answer, 
 Dick caught sight of Mr. Jackson coming along the passage. 
 
 " How do you do, old man ? Haven't seen you for a long time." 
 
 " What you, Dick, in Manchester ? Come and have a drink, old 
 man. Very glad to see you. Stopping long here 1 " 
 
 " Well, I'm not quite decided. My wife was confined, you know, 
 last night." 
 
 " What ! you a father, Dick 1 " 
 
 Leering, Mr. Jackson poked him in the ribs, and commenced a 
 list of anecdotes. To these Dick had to listen, and, in the hopes of 
 catching his friend in an unwary moment of good-humour, he 
 laughed heartily at all the best points. But digressive as converear 
 tion is in which women are concerned, sooner or later a reference ia 
 made to the cost and the worth, and at last Mr. Jackson was incau- 
 tious enough to say : 
 
 " Very expensive those afiairs are, to be sure." 
 
 This was the chance that Dick was waiting for, and immediately 
 buttonholing his friend he said : 
 
 " You are qilite right, they are ; and to tell yon the truth, old 
 man, I'm in the most devilish awkward position I ever was in my 
 life. You heard about the breaking up of Morton and Cox's com- 
 pany 1 Well, that left me stranded." 
 
 At the first words gaiety disappeared from Mr. Jackson's face, 
 
 " and during Dick's narrative of the tour in Lancashire he made many 
 
 ineffectual wriggles to get away. Judging, from these well-known 
 
 indications, that to borrow money might be attended with failure, 
 
 Dick, after a pathetic description of his poverty, concluded with : 
 
 " So now, my dear fellow, you must find something for me to do. 
 It does not matter what — something temporary untU I can find 
 something better, you know." 
 
 It was difficult to resist this appeal, and after a moment's re- 
 flection Mr. Jackson said : — 
 
 " Well, you know we're all made up here. There's a small part 
 in the new drama to be produced next week, but I wouldn't like to 
 offer it as it is, but I might get the author to write it up." 
 
 " It will do first-rate. I'm sure to be able to make something of 
 it. What's the screw?" 
 
 " That's just the point. We Aan't afford to pay much for it ; our 
 salary list is too big as it is." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 255 
 
 " What did you intend giving for it ?" 
 
 " Well, we meant to give it to a super, but for you I can have it 
 written up. What do you say to two-ten ? " 
 
 Dick thought it would be judicious to pause, and after a short 
 silence he said : — 
 
 '_' I've had, as you know, bigger things to do ; but I'm awfully 
 obliged to you, old pal. You are doing me a good turn that I sha'n't 
 forget : we can consider the matter as settled. " 
 
 "Tliis was a stroke of luck, and Dick congratulated himself 
 warmly, until he remembered that £2 10s. at the end of next week 
 did not put a farthing into his present pocket. Money he would 
 have to find that day, how he did not know. He called upon every- 
 body he had ever heard of ; he visited all the theatres and ball-rooms, 
 drank interminable drinks, listened to endless stories, and when 
 questioned as to what he was doing himself, grew delightfully men- 
 dacious, and, upon the slight basis of h'.s engagement for the new 
 drama at the Royal, constructed a fabulous scheme for the pro- 
 duction of new pieces. In this way the afternoon went by, and he 
 was beginning to give up hopes of turning over any money that day, 
 when he met a dramatic author. After the usual salutations — 
 " How do you do, old boy ? How's business ? " &c. — had been ex- 
 changed, the young man said : — 
 
 " Had a bit of luck ; just now sold my piece ; you know the 
 drama I read you, the one in which the mother saves her child from 
 the burning house ? " 
 
 ■"How much did you get ? " 
 
 " Seventy-five pound down, and two pounds anight." 
 
 At the idea of so much money Dick's eyes glistened, and he im- 
 mediately proceeded to unfold a scheme he had been meditating for 
 some time back for the building of a new theatre. The author 
 listened attentively, a<nd after having dangled about the lamp-posts 
 for half an hour, they mutually agreed to eat a bit of dinner together 
 and afterwards go home and read another new piece that was, so 
 said the fortunate author, a clinker. Ko better excuse than his 
 wife's confinement could be found for fixing the rendezvous at the 
 young man's lodging, and in the enthusiasm which the reading of 
 the acts engendered, it was easy for Dick to ask for, and difficult for 
 his friend to refuge, a cheque for £16. 
 
266 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 In about a week Kate was sufficiently restored to sit up in bed. 
 Her very weakness and lassitude were a source of happiness ; for, 
 after long months of turmoil and racket, it was sweet to lie in the 
 lucid dreaminess of the covertures, and suffer her thoughts to grow 
 out of unconsciousness or sink back into it without an effort 
 Then from these twilight trances flowed imperceptibly another 
 period, when with coming strength awoke in her a feverish love 
 for the little baby-girl who lay sleeping by her side. For hours in 
 the, reposing obscurity of the drawn curtains mother and child 
 would remain, hushed in one long warm embrace. To see, to feel, 
 this little life moving against her side was enough. She looked 
 not into the future nor thought of what fate the years held in store 
 for her daughter, but lost in emotive contemplation, watched the 
 blind movements of hands and the vague staring blue eyes, content. 
 This puling pulp, in which there was life that was hers, developed 
 in her unimaginable yearnings, and she often trembled for pride in 
 being the instrument through which was worked so much mystery. 
 Knowing nothing of children, to talk of the dark dawn of preation, 
 and of the day sweet with maternal love that lay beyond, was to 
 Kate a source of infinite joy. To hear the large, hobbling woman 
 tell of the different babies she had successfully started that year on 
 their worldly pilgrimage, seemed never to w«ary Kate. She in- 
 terested herself in each special case, and when l5ie nurse told her 
 she must talk no more she lay back, held as if by a sort of secret 
 affinity, to dream of the great boy with the black eyes who had so 
 nearly been the death of his little flaxen-haired mother. •• 
 
 She felt great interest in this infant, who, if he went on growing:"' 
 at the present rate, it was prophesied would be in twenty .years' 
 time the biggest man in Manchester. But on questioning tlie 
 nurse, it was admitted that all the children were not so strong and 
 healthy. Indeed, it was only last week that a little baby she had 
 brought into the world perfectly safely had died within a few days 
 of its birthj for no cause that anyone could discover. It had 
 pined away just like a flower. The tears rolled down Kate's 
 cheeks as she listened, and she pressed her own against her breast 
 and insisted on nursing it, although expressly forbidden to do so by 
 the doctor. 
 
 These days were the best of her life. She felt more at peace 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 257 
 
 With the world, she placed more confidence in lier husband than 
 she had ever done before ; and when he came in of an afternoon 
 and sat by her side and talked of herself and of their little baby, 
 softened in all tlie intimate fibres of her sex, she laid her hand in 
 his, and sighed for sheer joy. The purpose of her life seemed now 
 to show a definite sign of accomplishment. 
 
 The only drawback to their happiness was their poverty. The 
 fifteen pounds of borrowed money had gone through their hands 
 like water, and had Dick not been fortunate enough to make 
 another " tenner " by looking after a piece given at a morning 
 performance, they would never have been able to manage. What 
 with the doctor's bill, the nurse's wages, the baby's clothes, they 
 Were for ever breaking into their last sovereign. Dick spoke of 
 their difficulties as little as possible. He would not have mentioned 
 them to her had he not felt that he had exhausted all his sources of 
 getting money, and that there was no prospect of their being able 
 to pull through unless Eate were shortly able to accept an engage- 
 ment. He often spoke to her on the subject, but although she 
 was now up and apparently well, she always answered with a " Yes, 
 dear, I hope I shall be well enough to go to work again soon." 
 She would not, nevertheless, fix a day, or even allow Dick to speak 
 to the managers about her. The idea seemed distasteful, and she 
 would invent all sorts of plausible excuses. Who was there to mind 
 the baby ? If they had nurse back again it would cost them a pound 
 a week, pretty near ; and then there was the chance of her knocking 
 herself up, and that would be far worse than the loss of a miserable 
 three pounds a week she should get for playing some trumpery 
 little part. Besides, she did not wish to let herself down in the 
 profession. She had been playing leading parts, and it would not 
 do to accept the first thing that she could get. 
 
 A month passed away, and Kate grew more than ever averse to 
 all proposals to go back to work. When Dick tried to persuade 
 her to keep her name before the public, she answered that she had 
 not yet recovered from her confinement — that she had worked, as 
 it was, too much. last year, that she wanted a rest. Never since 
 she had left Hanley had they been so long stationary, and in the 
 pause fragments of the wreck of her old life commenced to float 
 up through the new to the surface. She began to look after the 
 housekeeping, and her fingers seemed to itch for the needle and 
 thread. She insisted on mending Dick's clothes, and she made 
 hoods and shoes for the baby. Her manner of thought, of speech, 
 was marked everywhere witjx traces of a curious return to her first 
 life. She no longer played in opera bouffe, but in domestic drama ; 
 and although the reality of her hearth was little more than that of 
 a stage property, still when she sat by her fireside reading a novel, 
 you saw reflected in Mrs. Lennox a curious likeness of the Mrs 
 Bde of former days. Even her taste for fiction was reproduced. 
 While she was touring about the country she had unconsciously 
 given up reading ; once she had bought a copy of the Family 
 
258 A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 Herald, hoping that it would help her to kill an hour or so in the 
 train, but it had failed to fix her attention. The weak, aiiy senti- 
 mentality, that used to divert her when she was with Ralph, had 
 seemed to her when she was with Dick, unreal, uninteresting. 
 Her own life was then a strange romance, and so much more glar- 
 ing was it in its contrasts, so infinitely deeper in its humanity, 
 that the frail girls of the story-book could not satisfy her mind in 
 the hot days of desire ; but now in the laxity of its evening, when 
 the turmoil of a noisy afternoon was remembered only like the 
 murmur of a low tide rippling under the sunset, the grace, the 
 peace, the goodness of the heroes and heroines, who lived unsullied 
 by any too dark stain of humanity in a sweetly regulated world of 
 convention, enraptured and fascinated her. 
 
 She wondered why she had neglected her books so long. And 
 towards the end of these stories there were allusions to mothers. 
 She was a mother now, and in the drift of her dreams could see a 
 blissful future made of children's smiles ; she heard their glad 
 laughter ringing down the procession of the years, felt their soft 
 cheeks against hers, their chubby warm bodies upon her knees ; 
 and when she raised her eyes, a tear of joy fell upon the page, and 
 then in the effusion of these sensations she would take her Uttle 
 girl, that she had tUl now forgotten, and press it almost wildly 
 against her breast. 
 
 It was a small weakly little thing, out of whose white wax com- 
 plexion shone the violet blue eyes it had inherited from its father. 
 And before leaving, the nurse had given Kate many directions 
 about the baby. It was to have its bath in the morn i ng, to be kept 
 thoroughly clean ; it was to be given its bottle when it cri^. 
 These instructions £ate did, in a sort of way, fulfil, but not being 
 used to children she did not readily divine the baby's wants, and 
 she often put either coo much or too little water in the feedii^ 
 bottle. She was devoted to her child, but the attention she gave it 
 was unpractical and unsustained. ' 
 
 The christening had awakened in her many forgotten emotions, 
 and now that she was an honest married woman, she did not see 
 why she should not resume her old church-going ways. The storj 
 she was reading was full of allusions to the vanity of this world and 
 the durability of the next ; and thus encouraged, Kate bought a 
 Bible and spent the long evenings when Dick was at the theatre 
 with it on her knees. It made her feel she was doing something, 
 and certain passages were for her so filled with memories that ii 
 reading them she felt her being evaporate into a cloud of happiness 
 
 Her feet on the fender, penetrated with the dreamy warmth oi 
 the fire, she abandoned herself to the seduction of her reveries. 
 Everything conspired against her. Being stUl very weak the docto) 
 had ordered her to keep up her strength with stimulants ; a table- 
 spoonful of brandy and water taken now and then was what wai 
 required. This was the ordinance, but the drinks in the dressing 
 rooms liad taught her the comforts of such medicines, and during 
 
A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 259 
 
 the 4ay several glagses were consumed. Without getting absolutely 
 drunk, she rapidly sank into sensations of numbness, in whieh all 
 distinctions were blurred, and thoughts trickled and slipped away 
 like the soothing singing of a brook. It was like an amorous tick- 
 ling, and as her dreams balanced between a tender declaration of 
 love and the austere language of the Testament, the crying of the 
 sick child was unheeded. 
 
 Once Kate did not hear it for hours ; she did not know she had 
 forgotten to warm its mUk, and that the poor little thing was 
 shivering with cold pain. At last she awoke, and going over to the 
 cot tried to collect her drink-laden thoughts. The little legs were 
 drawn up, the face was like ivo^, and a long thin wail issued from 
 the colourless lips. Alarmed, Kate called for the landlady, who, 
 after feeling the bottle advised that the milk should be warmed. 
 When this was done the child drank a little and appeared relieved. 
 
 Shortly after a bell was heard ringing, and the landlady said : — 
 
 " I think it's your husband, ma'am." 
 
 It was usual for Dick, when he came in at night, to tell what Kate 
 termed " the news." It amused her to hear what had been done at 
 the theatre, what fresh companies had come to town. On this occa- 
 sion it surprised Mm that she took so little interest in the conversa- 
 tion, and after hazarding a few remarks he said : 
 
 " But what's the matter, dear, aren't you well 1 " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am quite well," Kate answered stolidly, 
 
 " Well, what's the matter ; you don't speak }" 
 
 " I'm tired, that's all." 
 
 " And how's the baby 1 " 
 
 "I think she's asleep ; don't wake her.'' 
 
 Dick went over, nevertheless, and holding a candle in one hand 
 he looked long and anxiously at his child. 
 
 " I'm afraid the little thing is not well, she's fidgetting, and is as 
 restless as possible." 
 
 "I wish you would leave her alone ; if she awakes, it is I who 
 will have the trouble of it, not you. I have been minding her all 
 day. It's very unkind of you." 
 
 Dick looked at his wife astonished. He at first fancied he must 
 be mistaken, and said nothing ; but as she continued to speak, the 
 evidences of drink became so unmistakeable that he said, trying not 
 to offend her : — 
 
 " I am afraid that you have been drinking a little too much of 
 the brandy the doctor ordered you." 
 
 At this accusation, Kate drew herself up and angrily denied 
 having touched a drop of anything that day. 
 
 " How dare you accuse me of being drunk ? you ought to respect 
 me more." 
 
 " Drunk, Kate ? I never said you were drunk, but I thought 
 you might have taken an overdose. 
 
 " I suppose you'll believe me when I tell you that I have not had 
 a teaspoonful of anything. " 
 
260 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " Of course I believe you, dear," said Dick, who could not credit 
 his ears. He did not think that Kate was capable of telling such a 
 deliberate lie, but seeing that there was no use in discussing the 
 subject at the present time, and being fearfully tired, he suggested 
 getting to bed. Kate made no objection, and she took off her 
 things as steadily as she could. To unlace her stays was difficult, 
 but when Dick offered to assist her she grew cross. 
 
 " Do let me alone, let me alone," she said, tearing furiously at 
 the strings. ' , , . , 
 
 Without answering, Dick kicked off his shoes ; and this was the 
 excuse for another outburst. 
 
 " How can you be so unkind ? I don't know really what I have 
 done to you, that you should try to wake up that poor sick child." 
 
 " I assure you, my dear, I couldn't help it, the shoe slipped off 
 unexpectedly." 
 
 Feeling very miserable and unhappy, as if the whole world had 
 set its face against her, Kate wept silently. At iirst Dick tried 
 to console her, but seeing soon that this was hopeless, he turned his 
 face to the wall and went to sleep. 
 
 For a long time she sobbed amid the covertures. There being no 
 blinds, the window behind her was a square of deep blue, and the 
 room, into whose depths she could not choose but look, had in this 
 glamour an uncertain and tomb-like appearance, and each recess 
 seemed full of strange terrors. At the foot of the bed stood the cradle, 
 and she could just distinguish the baby's face upon the lugubrious 
 pallor of the little pillow. Kate watched, and her husband's breath- 
 ing irritated her. At last a low wailing cry broke the heavy still- 
 ness, and she felt certain she could see the baby moving. ' ' It wants 
 its bottle," she said to her herself ; but for some time she could not 
 make up her mind to get up. But as the crying continued, pity 
 mastered her fear, and filled with all kinds of maternal solicitudes, she 
 took the poor ailing thing out of its cot and rocked it in her arms. 
 For a long half hour she walked up and down the room, soothing and 
 kissing it. Should she lose it she thought she should go mad, and 
 every feminine fibre in her nature quivered with pain at the 
 thought. But there was no danger of that. Had not the landlady 
 told her that it would be all right in a day or two, that she must not 
 be afraid — infants were never very well. This time, though, she 
 took care to warm the milk ; it was no use ; she might cram 
 the teat as much as she liked into its mouth, but it would 
 not suck. It seemed as if it would do nothing but wail. To 
 listen to it was most distressing, but at length, as if tired out, it 
 sank to sleep, and with an uneasy heart Kate put it back into its 
 cot. There she sat watching, until a cold piercing shiver ran 
 through her and forced her to remember her imprudence. It was a 
 winter's night, and she thought of what would happen if she too 
 were taken ill. Under such circumstances it was impossible for her 
 not to think of the brandy, and taking the bottle out of a chest of 
 drawers where she had hidden it under some clothes, she poured her- 
 
A MUMMBK'S WIFE. 261 
 
 self out a large glass. It was the first time she had drunk the 
 spirit neat, and it ran through her, diflfusing instantly a delightful 
 and grateful warmth. So satisfied was she with its effect, that after 
 a few moments' hesitation, she drew the cradle close up to the bed, 
 where she could see it the first thing in the morning, and went back 
 to the brandy. She drank the second glass slowly, leaning her 
 arms upon the chest ot drawers as she might upon a bar counter. 
 She thought of her child and husband, of how good she intended to 
 be to them, until ideas became broken and slipped from her, and she 
 staggered back to bed. Then sleep fell crushingly upon her, and 
 amid the shadows of the hea,vily-heaped blankets the prolonged 
 breathing of the sleepers reverberated through the stUlness of the 
 room. But in the twilight, that was becoming* gradually clearer, 
 the baby still slept : the moon was beginning to touch with gold the 
 comer of a distant chimney, and soon after a long white ray entered 
 and laid a blanching finger upon the trailing fold of the cradle 
 coverlet. Then, as if awakened by an unearthly presence, the 
 infant uttered a low thin wail; but only the deep snores of the 
 parents made answer, and in the transparent obscurity the little 
 face was twitched with suffering, and one tiny hand raised its dying 
 pallor to heaven. 
 
 Above the dark roof the moon had now become a crescent, and 
 as an angel stealing and leaning forward, a white ray kissed with 
 cold supernatural kisses the cheeks of the lonely child, — and in- 
 stantly, as if in fear, the blue staring eyes were opened, the little 
 legs were drawn up to the very chest, the weak wail ceased and the 
 convulsions began. • Would father or mother awake to soothe the 
 pitiful struggle ? No, the shivering little limbs stirred only to the 
 hideous accompaniment of the drunken woman's snores ; and even 
 as heedless, majestic in naked golden glory, the moon swam up 
 through the azure peace of the skies, until brought face to face 
 with the'duld. 
 
 Then, in a strange and luminous pause, a green presence took 
 possession of the whole room, including every detail in its mysteri- 
 ous embrace. The meanest objects became weird and fearsome ; 
 form and sound were transfigured. Demon-like, the brandy bottle 
 stood on the chest of drawers, and the huddled group in the dusky 
 bed seemed as a vile world snoring, equally indiflferent to life and 
 to death. Yet for a moment there was hope, for, as if subdued by 
 the magnetism of an unearthly power, the convulsions grew less, 
 and a sweet calm came over the cradle. The respite, how brief it 
 was 1 Soon tbe Kttle blankets were cast aside, the legs were twisted 
 on to the chest, and the eyes blinked convulsively. But no smile 
 of joy, nor tear of grief, changed the mild cruelty of the amber- 
 coloured witch at the window : softly as a drinking snake, she drank 
 of this young life. Thou shalt be mine and mine only, she seemed 
 to say ; and in the devouring gleams the struggle was continued. 
 Out of the flower-like skin black stains grew ; all the soft round- 
 nesses fell into distortions ; chubby knees were wrenched to and 
 
262 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 fro, muscles seemed to be torn and the bones beneath to be broken 
 violently : as in the Laoooon, every movement spoke of pain. 
 
 So, for an unappreciable space of time, the white rays glorified 
 the poetic agony ; and then the little wan body lay still in a flood 
 of passionless light. Not a star watched the bird-like remains : 
 only the moon knew of the moon's tragedy ; and after lingering an 
 hour, the pale aureole moved up the sky, leaving the child to sleep 
 in darkness for ever. 
 
26S 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 It had been raining all night, and it was still raining, and the mud 
 flowed. The sky, a dead grey, was shot with the smoke of Man- 
 chester, and a faint odour of cinders hovered about the humid 
 atmosphere. The perspectives of the streets were veiled with blue 
 vapour, through which were seen the balancing backs of two cabmen 
 who, perched high above the splashing wheels, leaned to exchange a 
 remark as they passed. Kate, sobbing spasmodically, allowed her 
 dress to trail frequently in the dirt. The mutes had turned up the 
 ends of their trousers, but, at every step they sent the gutter over 
 their knees and the fringes of the pall. Of the many sad things in 
 this world a child's funeral is perhaps the saddest. In a fleeting 
 instant we see love, beauty, liappiness, all of which we think in one 
 dream-hour it would have attuned, and we mourn the darkness, 
 ashes, and worms that have overtaken it. Yain, perhaps, are these 
 visions ; it would have gained only what we oiurselves have gained ; 
 but still it seems cruel to have been denied a part in the battle. 
 Thus we dream for a moment, and then the little cortege passes on, 
 scarcely noticed, untalked of, uncared for. A dozen people are 
 the most that attend ; there are no horses, no plumes. A man in 
 front, another behind, carry what would be mistaken, were it not 
 for its black dress, for a hand barrow. There is not much grief, 
 only a few mother's tears, that is all. 
 
 And little Kate's burial differed only from the hundred other 
 baby funerals we have seen in our English streets in this, that it 
 passed even more unnoticed than is usual in such cases. The Len- 
 noxes lived in an unfrequented part of the town not fax from the 
 cemetery, and soon the melancholy shops of statuaries, the pallor 
 of the headstones with dates written in indelible black, the crosses 
 of consolation, and the kneeling angels were caught sight of. One 
 of these, a beautiful girl with large wings, bent right over her back, 
 especially took the mother's fancy. After examining it, and con- 
 sidering if there was a chance of her ever having enougji money to 
 buy it, she said : 
 
 " Oh, Dick, what a pity it is that we can't put a beautiful monu- 
 ment like one of those over the poor little thing's grave." 
 
 "Yes, isn't it? But if she had lived I think she'd have grown 
 into a pretty girl. She was veiy like you, dear." 
 
 He had been offered an engagement for Kate to play the part of 
 
264 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 the Cbuntess in Olivette, and had accepted it, hoping in the mean- 
 while to be able to persuade her to take it. It was rather hard to 
 ask her to play the day after the funeral, but there was no help for 
 it. The company wovdd arrive in town to-morrow, and Dick thought 
 it would be a pity to let the chance slip. He had not, however, yet 
 dared to speak to her about it. Since her child's death she had 
 had some terrible attacks of hysterical grief. She had refused either 
 to eat or drink, and, uttering low wailing cries, had walked about 
 her room for one whole day and night. Dick and the landlady had 
 in turn tried to console her, but, with wild movements of arms, she 
 had had either buried her face in the pillows or frantically clasped 
 the little dead thing to her breast. But there was a want of natu- 
 ralness in this sorrow. It was too vehement, and it came too much 
 in jerks to be considered a spontaneous expression of true grief. 
 It was not sustained, there were times when she forgot herself, and 
 relapsed into indifference. And yet she was perfectly sincere. 
 Knowing what a mother should feel she strove to force those feel- 
 ing upon herself, but the truest sentiment in her heart was hatred of 
 herself for having got drunk and neglected her child. It seemed to 
 her that she must tear and beat herself for what she had done. 
 She thought herself vile and abominable, but of the sweet Ulimit- 
 able love of the mother, she only heard a faint echo in her heart. 
 This blank in her affections was partly inborn, partly the result of 
 later circumstances. She had met Dick in her seven-and-twentieth 
 year, when the sap of her slowly-developing nature was rising to its 
 highest point, when it was burning and forcing to blossom the 
 fancies and passions of a dreamy youth. A few more years would 
 have killed those desires, as the October winds the flowers, and 
 Kate would have lived and died an honest workwoman. But Dick 
 had passed in time for the harvesting,, and the flower had fallen 
 into his hands. He had absorbed her heart and drained it of all 
 the love it could feel for living thing — the febrile, emotional, disso- 
 lute life she had since led had worn out her lymphatic temperament, 
 and to her existence was now no more than a nervous erethism; and 
 the gentle imagination had become morose, cynical, and dissatisfied. 
 
 We have, therefore, arrived at the period of decadence of KateV 
 character. 
 
 Her want of motherly instincts, and her forced hysterical grief, 
 were owing to the above-named causes ; and, as the funeral ap- 
 proached the cemetery her sobbing was so boisterous that one of the 
 mutes looked round. 
 
 " Oh, Dick," she said, " to think they'll put her down into the 
 ground, and that we shall perhaps never even see her grave again. 
 We may be a hundred miles from here to-morrow, or after." 
 
 Dick, who had had credit of the undertaker, looked around un- 
 easily. Seeing, however, that Kate had nofc been overheard, ha 
 said, 
 
 " Poor little thing. It is sad to lose her, isn't it 2 I should like 
 to have seen her grow up." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 265 
 
 Never did anything seem so utterly lost to Kate as her child soon 
 would be. The multitude of graves was appalling. Out of the 
 soaking earth, up to the wet grey sky, the headstones lifted their 
 countiess faces. They extended in profusion over a level plain, and 
 BO thick were they that a child would not be able to find its way 
 out of the labyrinth. ' The conventional yew trees stood black as 
 ink by the spikes of the encircling railing, and the big, white- 
 painted backs of the houses, where the living lived, grew yellow 
 upon a dim background of murky sky. 
 
 The coflan was first deposited in the middle of a vault-like church. 
 The mutes remained outside in the porch, and Dick fidgeted, feeling 
 Ul at ease amid the great barren benches. He twisted the brim 
 of his big hat nervously, troubled by the service which the parson 
 in a white flowing surplice read from the reading-desk. Kate, on 
 the contrary, appeared much consoled, and she mumbled so many 
 prayers that, involuntarily, Dick began to consider the time it would 
 take to learn a part of equal length. The little brown box re- 
 mained all the while like a piece of lost luggage, lonely in the grey- 
 ness of this station-house-looking church ; and when the mutes came 
 to claim it Kate burst again into tears. This reminded the parson 
 that he was tjbere to console, and, in soft and unctuous words, he 
 assured the weeping mother that her child had only been removed 
 to a better and brighter world, and that we must all submit to the 
 will of God. In the porch, however, his attention was distracted, 
 and looking anxiously at the dirty drift of clouds that threatened 
 another downpour, he talked confidentially with the sexton, who 
 had come to show them the way. " A little more of this," he 
 thought, " and others will be doing for me what I am now doing 
 for others." 
 
 But there being no help for it, with the white surplice blowing, 
 he followed the procession through the interminable tombstones. 
 It seemed a mystery how place for the little grave had been found, 
 and amid much indifference, the service was continued. Dick 
 could not keep his attention fixed, and not a sob was heard until 
 the parson sprinkled earth upon the coflSn and the ropes were 
 brutally withdrawn. Miis last "situation" in the comedy of Hfe 
 out the mother's heart, but she was now worn out with grief, and 
 in silence threw her flowers into the narrow opening. Dick said 
 nothing, but it made him despair to see her scrambling over the 
 heaps of clay, and it seemed to him pretty well impossible that she 
 would ever be able to play the Countess in Olivette on the morrow. 
 She was so fearfully haggard and worn that he doubted if any 
 amount of rouge would make her look the part. This was a great 
 pity. He would have done anything in the world for his little girl 
 while she was alive, but now that she was dead — . Besides, after 
 all, she was only a baby. For some time past this idea had occurred 
 to him as an excellent argument to convince Kate that there was 
 really no reason why she should not go to rehearsal on the following 
 morning. If he had not yet spoken in this way it was only be- 
 
266 A MUMMER'S "WIFE. 
 
 cause he was afraid that she would round on him, and call him a 
 heartless beast. Lacking moral courage, he would do anything to 
 evade a sulky look ; and now, when the funeral was over, and they 
 were walking home wet, sorrowful, and tired, it was curious to 
 watch how he gave his arm to Kate, and the timidity with which he 
 introduced his subject. At first he only spoke of himself, and his 
 hopes of being able to obtain a better part and a higher salary 
 in the new drama. Mention to a mummer who is lying on his 
 death-bed that a new piece is going to be produced, and he will not 
 be able to resist asking a question or two about it ; and K!ate, weary 
 as she was, at once piicked up her ears and said — 
 
 " Oh, they are going to do a new piece I You didn't tell me of 
 that before." 
 
 " It was only decided last night," replied Dick. 
 The spell was now broken, and when they got home and had 
 dinner the conversation was resumed in a strain that, after the 
 mournful tones of the last few days, might be considered as being 
 almost jovial. Dick felt as if a big weight had been lifted from his 
 mind, and the thought again occurred to him. What was the good 
 of making such a fuss over a baby that was only three weeks old ? 
 Eate, too, seemed to be awakening to the conviction that there was 
 no use in grieving for ever. The state of torpor she had been living 
 in — ^for to stifle remorse she had been drinking heavily on the quiet 
 — ^now began to wear off, and her brain to uncloud itself ; and Dick, 
 surprised at the transformation, could not help exclaiming — 
 
 " That's right, Kate ; cheer up, old girl. A baby three weeks 
 old isn't the same as a grown person." 
 
 " I know it isn't, but if you only knew — I'm afraid I neglected 
 the poor little thing." 
 
 " Nonsense," replied Dick, who, having an eye constantly on the 
 main chance, wished to avoid any fresh outburst of grief, " you 
 looked after it very well indeed ; besides, you'll have another," he 
 added with a smile. 
 
 " I want no other," replied Kate, vexed at being misunderstood, 
 and yet afraid to explain herself more thoroughly. 
 
 The conversation then came to a pause, and both sought for 
 words to break a long and irritating silence ; at last Dick said : 
 
 " I wish there was a part for you in the new piece." 
 
 "Yes, so do I. Ihaven't been doing anything fora long while now. " 
 
 Thus encouraged, Dick told Kate that in the so-and-so company 
 the part of the Countess might be had for the asking. 
 
 " Only they play to-morrow night." 
 
 " Oh, to-morrow night ! It would be dreadful to act so soon 
 after my poor baby's death, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " I can't see why. We shall be as sorry for it in a week's time 
 as now, and yet one must get to work some time or other." 
 
 Dick considered this a very telling argument, and, not wishing to 
 spoil its effect, he remained sUent, so as to give Kate time to digest 
 the truth of what he liad said. 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 26? 
 
 The next steps towards arriving at a decision were easily made. 
 Dick pleaded their poverty, told of his indebtedness to friends, ex- 
 plained that so good a chance might not occur again, and expatiated 
 on the dangers that artists ran of being let drop out if they did not 
 keep their names before the public. Kate listened very amiably to 
 these arguments ; she whined a bit when pressed for an answer, 
 but next morning, when Dick admitted that he had compromised 
 himself considerably in the matter, she consented to play the part, 
 and they went down to rehearsal. The manager was delighted 
 with her appearance. He told her that the photo that Dick had 
 forwarded did not do her justice ; and, handing her the scrip, he said : 
 
 " Now you must make your entrance from this side." 
 
 "What's the cue?" 
 
 " Here it is. I think I shall now beat a retreat in the direction 
 of home." 
 
 "Ah! I see." 
 
 And, striving to decipher the MS., Eate walked towards the 
 middle of the stage. " I haven't seen the Duke for twenty-four 
 hours, and that means misery." 
 
 "You'll get a laugh for that if you'll turn up your eyes a bit," 
 said Dick. Then, turning to the manager he murmured, " I wish 
 you had seen her as Clairette. The notices were immense. But I 
 must be off now to my own show." 
 
 This engagement relieved the Lennoxes for the time being of 
 their embarrassments. During the last month a good many debts 
 had been contracted, the payment of which could not be avoided ; 
 but with Kate's four and Dick's two ten a week, doctor, nurse, 
 landlady, and undertaker were eventually settled with. Their lives 
 were now working with clock-hke exactitude. At four they dined, 
 at six bade each other good-bye, and repaired to their respective 
 theatres. Dick was playing in drama, Kate in opera-bouffe ; and 
 something before a quarter to eleven she expected him to meet 
 her at the stage-door of the Prince's. On this point she was very 
 particular, and if he were a few moments late she questioned him 
 minutely as to where he had been, what he had been doing. 
 
 One day she had happened to catch him talking at the comer of 
 the street with a lady, whom she recognised as belonging to the 
 same theatre as he did. At the time the fact did not strike her 
 very forcibly, but gradually, from words heard here and there, 
 which, through a slow process, were assimilated and twisted in her 
 excited brain, the strangest conclusions were arrived' at ; and the 
 dreadful jealousies and suspicions which her marriage had appeased 
 returned, anol tortured her night and day with a cruel ferocity. At 
 first the approach of pain was manifested by a nervous anxiety for 
 her husband's presence. She seemed dissatisfied and restless when 
 he was not with her, and after breakfast in the mornings, when he 
 took up his hat to go out, she would beg of him to stay, and find 
 fault with him for leaving her. He reasoned with her very softly 
 and kindly, insisted, and assured her that he had the most important 
 
368 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 engagements. On one occasion it was a man who had given him 
 an appointment in order to speak with him concerning a new 
 theatie, of which he was to hare the entire management ; another' 
 time it was a man who was writing a drama, and wanted a colla- 
 borator to put the stage construction right ; and as these sianees of 
 collaboration occupied both morning and afternoon, Elate, until 
 four o'clock, was thrown entirely on her own resources. The first 
 two or three novels she had read during her convalescence had 
 amused her, but they ail now seemed one so much like the other 
 that they ended 'by boring her ; and, too excited to be able to fii 
 her attention, she often read without understanding what she was 
 reading. Her mind was a chaos of conflicting emotions. On one 
 side the memory of her baby's death preyed upon her ; she still 
 could not help thinking that it was owing to her neglect that it had 
 died. On the other, the thought that her husband was playing her 
 false goaded her to madness. Sometimes she attempted to follow 
 him, but this only resulted in failure, and she returned home after 
 a fruitless chase more dejected than ever. " Ah ! if the baby had 
 nott died, there would have been something to live for," she 
 murmured to herself a thousand times during the day, unta at last 
 her burden pf remorse grew quite unbearable, and she thought of 
 the brandy the doctor had ordered her. Since her engagement to 
 play the Countess she had forgotten it, but now a strange desire 
 seized her as suddenly as if she had been stimg by a snake. There 
 was only a little left in the bottle, but that Uttle cheered and re- 
 stored her even more than she had expected. Her thoughts came 
 to her more fluently, she ate a better dinner, and acted joyously 
 that night at the theatre. " There is no doubt," she said to her- 
 self, "the doctor was right. What I want is a little stimulant." 
 Of the truth of this she was more than ever convinced when next 
 morning she found herself again suffering from the usual melancholy 
 and dulness of spirits. The very sight of breakfast disgusted her, 
 and when Dick left she wandered about the room, unable to interest 
 herself in anything. There was a yearning in her throat for the 
 tingling sensation that brandy would bring, and she longed for 
 yesterday's lightness of conscience. But there was no liquor in the 
 house, not even a glass of sherry. What was to be done ? Kate 
 hesitated for some time before applying to the landlady. What 
 would the woman think ? Such people were always too ready to 
 put a wrong interpretation upon everything. Still, Mrs. Clarke 
 knew that the doctor had ordered her to take a little brandy when 
 she felt weak. Resolving, however, not to put herself into any- 
 body's power she determined to wait until dinner-time. Half an 
 hour of misery passed, and then, excited to the last degree by the 
 craving for drink, she remembered that it would be very foolish to 
 risk her health for the sake of a prejudice. To obey the doctor's 
 orders was her first duty. This reflection was infinitely consoling ;i 
 it relieved her mind at once of much uncertainty, and, ringing t£e . 
 bell, she prepared her little speech. 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 269 
 
 "Oh I Mrs. Clarke, I'm sorry to trouble you, but— I'm feeling so 
 Weak this morning — and, if you remember, the doctor ordered me to 
 uke a little brandy when I felt 1 wanted it. Do you happen to have 
 my in the house ? " 
 
 ^ ' ' No, ma'am,^ I haven't, but I can send out for it in a minute. And 
 you do look as if you wanted something to pick you up." 
 
 I" Yes," said E^te, throwing as much weakness as she could 
 inljo her voice, "somehow I have never felt the same since my con- 
 finement." 
 
 " Ah ! I know well how it pulls one down. If you only knew how 
 I suffered with my third baby ! " 
 
 " I can well imagine it." 
 
 The conversation then came to a pause, and Mrs. Clarke, not see- 
 ing her way to any further family confidences, said : 
 
 " What shall I send for, ma'am — half a pint ? The grocer round 
 the comer keeps some very nice brandy." 
 
 "Tes, that will do," said Kate, seeing an unending perspective of 
 drinks in half a pint. 
 
 " Shall I put that down in the bill, or will you give me the money 
 now, ma'am ? " 
 
 This was very awkward, for Kate suddenly remembered that she 
 had this week given over her salary to Dick, without keeping any- 
 thing out of it. However, there was no help for it now, and putting 
 as bold a face on it as she could, she told Mrs. Clarke to book it. 
 What did it matter whether Dick saw it or not. Had not the doctor 
 told her she required a little stimulant ? 
 
 Henceforth brandy drinking became an established part of Kate's 
 morning hours. Even before Dick was out of bed she would invent 
 a pretext for stealing into the next room so that she might have a 
 nip on the sly before breakfast. The bottle, and a packet of 
 Bweetstuff to take the smell off her mouth, were kept behind a 
 large oleograph representing Swiss scenery. The fear that Dick 
 might pop out upon her at any moment often nearly caused her 
 to spill the liquor over the place : but existence was impossible 
 without drink. She couldn't eat, and she felt she was bound to 
 get rid of the miserable moods of mind to which she woke. Be- 
 fore eleven o'clock Dick was out of the house, and this left Kate 
 four hours of lonely idleness staring her blankly in the face. 
 Sometimes she practised a little music, but it wearied her. She 
 had courage now for nothing, and the only thing that killed the 
 dreariness that ached in heart and head was brandy-and-water. 
 Many half-pint bottles had succeeded the first, and, ashamed to 
 admit her secret drinking, she now regularly paid the landlady 
 out of her own money. When funds were low, a little bill was 
 run up, and this was produced and talked over when the two 
 women were having a glass together of a morning. To pay these 
 debts Kate had to resort to the most abject lying. All kinds of 
 excuses had to be concocted. Her first idea was to tell Dick she 
 intended to continue her music lessons. He would be sure, she 
 
270 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 thought, never to ask her a question on the subject ; but Dick, 
 who was still terribly hard up, begged of her to wait until they., 
 were better off before incurring new expenses. Annoyed, she fell 
 back on the subject of clothes, and when he asked her if she could; 
 not manage to go on with what she had for a bit, it astonished him-? 
 to see the little mad rage into which she instantly fell. Was it nof 
 her own money, had she not earned it, and was he going to rob her 
 of it ? Did he only keep her to work for him ? If so, she'd very 
 soon put that to rights by chucking up her engagement ; then he 
 would be forced to keep her ; she wasn't going to be bullied. Dick, 
 in his usual kind way, tried to calm her. He explained to her their 
 position, told her of his projects. But the fear of discovery was a 
 fixed thought in her mind, and she refused to listen to reason until 
 he put his hand in his pocket and gave her two pounds ten. This 
 was just the sum required to pay what she owed at the Ayre Arms. 
 Then, seeing her difficulties removed, her better nature asserted 
 itself, and, after a moment of .trembling reflection, the tears 
 started to her eyes, and she begged of Dick to forgive her. She 
 had lost her temper, and she did not know what she was saying. 
 For a swift instant she thought of confessing the truth, but the 
 idea died in a resolution to amend. It was not worth speaking 
 of ; she was getting stronger, and would soon need no more 
 stimulants. 
 
 And for two days Kate kept to her promise ; instead of sitting at 
 home, she called on one of the ladies of the theatre, and passed a 
 pleasant morning with her. Struck by this success, she paid visits 
 to other members of the company, and went out shopping with them. 
 But when three or four met at the comer of a street, after a few 
 introductory remarks, a drink was generally proposed, not as men 
 would propose it, but slyly, and with much affectation. Skirting 
 furtively along tlxe streets, a quiet bar would be selected, and then, 
 " What will you have, dear ? " would be whispered softly. " A drop 
 of gin, dear." On one of these occasions Kate only just escaped 
 getting hopelessly drunk. • Fortunately, Dick did not return home 
 to dinner, and a good sleep and a bottle of soda-water pulled her 
 together, so that she could go down to the theatre and play her part 
 without exciting observation. This decided her not to trust herself 
 again to the temptation of her girl friends, and she asked Dick to 
 allow her to accompany him sometimes. He made a wry face at 
 this proposal, hesitated, and explained that his collaborator suffered 
 no one to interrupt their stances s he was a timid man, and couldn't 
 work in the presence of a third person. Kate only sighed, but al- 
 though she did not attempt to dispute the veracity of this statement, 
 she felt that it was cruel that she should be left thus, hour after 
 hour, entirely alone. She deceived herself, however, with resolu- 
 tions and hopes that she would require no more brandy. But in 
 Ver heart of hearts she knew that she would not be able to resist, 
 and, docile as the sheep under the butcher's hand, she recognised 
 her fate, and accepted it, A new novel .was bought, a fresh bill run 
 
.fv HI u lu aij^jo, a w ir ji. 
 
 Mp at the grocer's, and the mornings were passed in a state of torpor. 
 VVithout getting absolutely drunk, she drank sufiacient to confuse 
 ler tlioughts, to reduce them to a sort of nebulae, enough to blend 
 ibd soften the lines of a too hard reality to a long sensation of tick- 
 14xg, in which no idea was precise, no desire remained long enough 
 tcgrow to a pain, but caressed and passed amorously away. Some- 
 tibies, of course, she overdosed herself, but on these occasions, when 
 shle found consciousness slipping a little too rapidly from her, she 
 VTBs cunning enough to go and lie down. Living, as she did, in con- 
 stant fear of detection, she endowed the simplest words and looks 
 witi a double meaning, and she could not help hating him if he 
 asked her questions or dared to accuse her of being sleepy and heavy 
 about the eyes. Did he intend to insult hei^— was that it ? if so, she 
 wasii't going to stand it. But the climax was reached when one day 
 he stood before the oleograph, apparently examining with deep in- 
 terest the different aspects of the Swiss scenery. In reality, his 
 thoughts were far away, but Eate, who did not know this, grew so 
 nervous and angry, that it was with difficulty she contained herself. 
 On half a dozen different pretexts she had tried to get him away. 
 There was a bottle hidden behind the blue mountains, and should 
 he touch them, discovery was inevitable, tjnder these circum- 
 stances, there was nothing to do but fly into a violent passion, so 
 snatching up a plate from the table she dashed it violently against 
 the ground. The colour rushed to her forehead, and she abused 
 him roundly for his neglect. Was she so utterly beneath his notice 
 that he could not even answer a question ? The crash caused Dick 
 to jump round as if he had been shot, and he sought to pacify his 
 wife. This was not easy, and almost every day a dispute of the 
 same sort arose. Danger of discovery assailed her from all sides, 
 and this engendered, if not hatred, a fierce resentment ; and to 
 deceive herself as to the true reason she criticised his conduct and 
 manner of life bitterly and passionately from every point of view. 
 Jealousy was natural to her ; it had been long smouldering in her 
 heart. Once or twice it had blazed into flame, but circumstances 
 had, for the time being, quenched it. Now there was nothing to 
 oppose it, and it burnt with resistless fury. All things served as 
 fuel, and inwardly Kate raged for some opportunity to show her 
 spite. She was conscious of no wrongdoing, she believed, and 
 believed sincerely, that she was acting legitimately in defence of her 
 own interests. Certain she was that Dick was deceiving her, and 
 the want of moral courage in the man, which forced him to tell lies 
 — lies in which he was sometimes found out — tended to confirm her 
 in this belief. For a few days past a quarrel had been preparing. 
 It was a weapon that had been forged by a thousand strokes, 
 fashioned by insults and tempered in the cruellest slanders. Still 
 the time for fight had not yet come, and she chafed under the delay. 
 One night, howeverj he kept her waiting half an hour at the stage- 
 door. Where had he been to ? what had he been doing all this 
 while ? were the questions she put to hiiji ifl many different forsqg 
 
272 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 of plirase as they walked home. Dick assured her he had been 
 detained by his manager, who wanted to speak with him concerning 
 a new production. He had been asked to undertake the anange- 
 ment of some of the processions. But Kate would not accept any of 
 these excuses, and she quarrelled venomously. Convinced he had 
 been after a woman, she stuck to her opinion, and the bickering 
 continued. It was very irritating. After a wearying argument, fuU 
 of protestations, admonitions, and promises, a long silence would 
 establish itself between them, and, fondly hoping that peace was re- 
 stored, the man would allow his thoughts to take up the thread of 
 some theatrical difficulty — the price of the ballet-girls' dresses, or 
 the possibility of the refreshment contractor advancing some money 
 on the bars. Nothing more was said until they got up to their 
 room, and then Dick, as usual, forgetful of even the immediate past, 
 began to speak of his manager's intentions regarding a new piece. 
 He did not, however, get far before he was brought to a sudden 
 standstill by a fresh explosion of wrath. 
 
 " What have 1 done now ? " he asked. 
 
 " Done 1 Do you suppose I want to hear about that woman ? " 
 
 "What woman?" 
 
 " Oh ! you needn't do the innocent with me ! " 
 
 "Really ! I give you my word — —" 
 
 " Your word 1 a nice thing, indeed 1 " 
 
 " Well, what do you want me to do ? " 
 
 " To leave me in peace," said Kate, savagely breaking the string 
 of her stays. 
 
 Dick, who was very tired, took the hint, and, without attempting 
 to argue the point further, quietly undressed and got to bed. There 
 the quarrel was resumed, and for an hour or more a sort of guerilla 
 warfare was maintained. He lay with his head turned close to the 
 wall ; hers danced over the extreme edge of the pUlow, and the 
 sound of her complaining voice harassed the darkness of the room. 
 The same tale was repeated without mercy. 
 
 " Why don't you go away and leave me ? I cannot think how you 
 can be so cruel, and to me, who gave up everything for you ! " 
 
 It was the wail of petulant anger ; but as yet she showed no 
 violence, and it was not until her husband, worn out by two hours 
 of unceasing lamentations, begged of her to allow him to go to sleep, 
 that her temper commenced to overcome her. In the morning, 
 however, she was more agreeable, and it was not until she had paid 
 a couple of visits to the blue Swiss mountains that she became again 
 taciturn and irritable. Dick, on his part, did not as yet even 
 remotely suspect his wife of drunkenness, he merely thought that 
 she had grown lately very ill-tempered, and that a jealous woman 
 was about the most distressing thing in existence ; and, anxious to 
 avoid another scene, he hurried through his breakfast. She watched 
 him eating in silence, knowing well he was counting the minutes till 
 he could get away. At last she said : 
 
 •' Will you take me to cburoji to-day ? " 
 
A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 273 
 
 \ " My dear, I'm afraid I've an appointment, but I'll try to come 
 Wk if I can." 
 
 \ Knowing very well that he had no intention of returning she said 
 nothing, and a few minutes later, after asking speciously up to what 
 t|me he would find her in, he slipped away. Then what to do she 
 knew not, unless, indeed, she invited the landlady to come up and 
 have a glass with her ; but feeling somewhat out of humour for the 
 tiigid conversation of that respectable person, she put on her hat 
 and ran after her husband, determined to watch him. But he was 
 not to be seen, and after roaming aimlessly about for some time she 
 turned into a church, and sat through the whole of the service. She 
 didinot^attempt to keep her attention fixed on what was going on, 
 butlto kneel down, to stand up, with the crowd — that is to say, to 
 abandon herself to a general impulse — was in itself a relief, and re- 
 laxed the strain of her thoughts. Her fevered hands twitched, her 
 eyesistared painfully, her brain boiled with angry excitement, and 
 when church was over she wandered through the town, drinking at 
 the diflTerent public-houses. When she got home she was slightly 
 bopzed ; but feeling somewhat less miserable and wretched, she 
 inquit-ed after Dick. He had not yet come in. This was unfor- 
 ttmate, for her heart, that was relenting towards him, was again, in 
 a swift moment of suspicion, tightened into bitterness, and in the 
 solitude of her room, asking herself why he treated her thus cruelly, 
 she worked herself into a state of positive frenzy. It pretty nearly 
 drove lier mad to think that at the moment she was patiently wait- 
 ing dinner for him he might be in the arms of another woman ; and 
 when the landlady came upstairs a second time in hope of a sociable 
 glass, Eate told her she might bring the soup up (they always had 
 soup on Sundays) ; that if Mr. Lennox didn't choose to come in for 
 his meals he might go without them. At that moment a ring at the 
 door was heard, and Dick walked uito the room. Throwing himself 
 into an arm-chair he said : 
 
 " I declare I never was so tired in my life, I'm dead beat. 
 
 "I daresay you are, I can easily understand that," was the curt 
 reply. 
 
 An expression of pain passed over his face. 
 
 "Goodness me, Kate!" he said in a perplexed voice. "You 
 don't mean to say you are angry still." 
 
 No attention was paid to the landlady, who was placing the soup 
 on the table, and she, being pretty well accustomed to their quarries, 
 said with an air of indifference as she left the room : 
 
 " Dinner is served, I shall bring the leg of mutton up when you 
 ring." 
 
 No answer was made to her, and the couple sat moodily looking 
 at each other. After a pause, Dick tried to be conciliatory, and in 
 the most affectionate phrases he could select he besought Kate to 
 make it up. 
 
 " I assure you, you are wrong," he said, " I have been after no 
 woman. Do, for goodness sake, make it up.'' 
 
274 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 Then approaching her chair, he tried to draw her toward him, 
 but pulling herself away passionately, she exclaimed : 
 
 "No, no, leave me alone — leave me alone — don't touch me — I 
 hate you." 
 
 Tlus was not encouraging, but at the end of another silence 
 he attempted again to reason with her. But it was useless; 
 and worn and impatient, he begged of her at least to come to 
 dinner. 
 
 " If you aren't hungry, I am. " 
 
 There was no answer ; lying back in' her chair she sulked, deaf to 
 aU entrealy. 
 
 "Well, if you won't, I will," he said, seating himself in her 
 place. 
 
 Her eyes flashed with a dull lurid light, and walking close to the 
 table, she looked at him steadily, Mgetting as she did so with the 
 knives and glasses. 
 
 " I can't think how you treat me as you do ; what have I done to 
 you to deserve it ? Nothing. But 1 shall be revenged, that I will ; 
 I can bear it no longer." 
 
 " Bear what 1 " he asked despairingly. 
 
 "You know well enough. Don't aggravate me. I hate you ! 
 Oh, yes," she said, raising her voice, " I do hate you"! " 
 
 " Sit down and have some dinner, and don't be so foolish," he 
 said, trying to be jocular, as he lifted the cover from tlie soup. 
 
 "Eat with you? Never!" she answered theatrically. But the 
 interest he showed in the steaming liquid annoyed her to such a 
 degree, that overcome by a sudden gust of passion she upset the 
 tureen into his lap. Dick uttered a scream, and in starting back he 
 overturned his chair. Although not scalding, the soup was still 
 hot enough to bum him, and he held his thighs dolorously. The 
 tablecloth was deluged, the hearthrug steamed ; and, regardless of 
 everything, Kate rushed past, imprecating violently as she went. 
 In brief, broken phrases, she accused her husband of cruelty, of un- 
 faithfulness, stopping only to reproach him with a desire to desert 
 her. Dick said nothing, nor could he, so quickly did her words 
 flow, but in dripping trousers watched her in mute astonishment. 
 With mild looks for words, he asked, What does all this mean 1 
 What have I done 9 The expression of his face changed till it 
 seemed to say, you surely must have gone mad to act like this. Of 
 complex emotions in the scene there were none, only a deaf fixity 
 of intention, such as two quarrelling animals are conscious of in 
 their prolonged disputes. 
 
 The brown of Kate's eyes was dim, but occasionally it flashed to 
 a dull gold tint, and as she hurried up and down the room, her hair 
 became unloosened and hung down her shoulders, like a sheaf of 
 black plumes. Dick thought of changing his clothes, but the in- 
 tensity of her passion detained him. Stopping suddenly before the 
 table she poured out a tumbler of sherry, and drank it almost at a 
 gulp. Nauseous it was to her taste as lukewarm water, and she 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 276 
 
 yearned for the burning fervours of brandy. They would sting her, 
 would atirake the dull ache of her palate to life to animation. She 
 kl^ew well where was the bottle, she could see it in her mind's 
 eyp, the darling black neck leaning against the frame of the 
 picture. Why should she not go and fetch it, and insult him with 
 the confession of her sin 1 Was it not he who drove her to it ? So 
 Kate thought in her madness, and the lack of courage to execute 
 herwishes angered her still further against the fat creature who lay 
 staring at her, lying back in the arm-chair. Applying herself again 
 to the sherry she swallowed greedily. 
 
 "For gooclness sake," said Dick, who began to get alarmed, 
 " don't drink like that ! You'll get drunk. " 
 
 "Well, what does it matter if I do ! It is you who drive me to 
 it. If you don't like it, go to Miss Vane." 
 
 "What ! You've not finished with that yet? Haven't I told 
 you twenty times that there's nothing between me and Miss Vane ? 
 I haven't spoken to her for the last three days." 
 
 "That's a lie !" shrieked Kate. "You went to meet her this 
 morning. I saw you. Do you take me for a fool 1 But oh ! I don't 
 know how you can be such a beast 1 If you wanted to desert me, 
 why did you ever take me away from Hanley ? But you can go 
 now, I don't want the leavings of that creature." 
 
 Taken aback by what was nothing more than a random guess, 
 Dick hesitated, and then deciding that he might as well be caught 
 out in two lies as in one, he said, as a sort of forlorn hope : — 
 
 " If you saw us you must have seen that she was with Jackson, 
 and that I did not do any more than raise my hat.", 
 
 Kate, who was too excited to follow out the train of the simplest 
 idea, made no answer, and continued to rave forth incoherent state- 
 ments of all kinds. In the meanwhile, the landlady came up to ask 
 when she should bring up the leg of mutton, but she went away 
 frightened. There was no dinner that day. Amid screams and 
 violent words the evening died slowly, and the room darkened 
 until nothing was seen but the fitful firelight playing on Dick's 
 hands ; but still, through the shadows, passed, like a figure of 
 avenging fate, the vague form of the woman. Would she never 
 grow tired and sit down ? he asked himself a thousand times. It 
 seemed as if it would never cease, and the incessant repetition of 
 the same words and gestures turned in the brain with the mechanical 
 movement of a wheel, dimming the sense of reality and producing 
 the obtuse terror of a nightmare. But from this state of semi-con- 
 sciousness he was suddenly awakened by the violent ringing of 
 the bell. 
 
 " What do you want 1 Can I get you anything ? " 
 
 Kate did not deign to answer him. WTien the landlady appeared, 
 she said — 
 
 " I want some more sherry, I am dying of thirst." ' 
 
 " You shall not have any more," said Dick, interposing ener- 
 getically. " Mrs. Clarke, I forbid you to bring it up." 
 
276 A MtJMMBE'S WIFE. 
 
 "I say she shall," replied Kate, her face twitching with 
 passion. 
 
 " I say she shall not." 
 
 "Then I'll go out and get it." 
 
 " No, I'll see you don't do that,'' said Dick, getting between her 
 and the door. As he did so he turned his back to speak to the land- 
 lady. Kate seized a handful of the frizzly hair and almost puUed him 
 to the ground. Twisting round he took her by the wrist and freed 
 himself, but this angered and still further excited her. 
 
 "You'd better let her have her way," said the landlady. "I 
 won't bring up much, and it may put her to sleep." 
 
 Dick, who at the moment would have given half his life for a 
 little peace, nodded his head affirmatively, and went back to his 
 chair. He did not know what to do. Never had he witnessed so 
 terrible a scene before. Since three or four days back this quarrel 
 had been working up crescendo, and now the landlady brought up 
 the sherry, Kate seized the decanter, and, complaining that it was 
 not full, resumed her drinking. 
 
 ■' So you see I did get it, and I'll get another bottle if I choose. 
 You think that I like it. Well, you are mistaken ; I don't, I hate 
 it. I only drink it because you told me not, because I know thai 
 you begrudge it to me, you begrudge me every bit that I put into 
 my mouth, the very clothes I wear. But it was not you who paid 
 for them. 1 earned the money myself, and if you thmk to rob me 
 of what I earn you are mistaken. You sha'n'fc. If you try to 
 do so I shall apply to the magistrate for protection. Yes, and 
 if you dare to lay a hand on me I shall have you locked up. Yes, 
 yes — do you hear me ? " she screamed, advancing towards him, 
 spilling as she did the glass of wine she held in her hand over 
 her dress. " I shaJl have you locked up, and I should love to do 
 so, because it was you who ruined me, who seduced me, and I hate 
 you for it." 
 
 She spoke with a fearful volubility, and her haranguing echoed in 
 Dick's ears with the cruel meaningless sound of a water-tap heard 
 splashing on the flagstones of an echoing courtyard. 
 
 Sometimes he would get up, determined to make one more effort, 
 and in his gentlest and most soothing tones would say : 
 
 " Now look here, dear, will you listen to me ? I know you. well, 
 and I know you are a bit excited ; if you will believe me—" 
 
 But it was no use. Apparently she did not hear him. Indeed, 
 it almost seemed as if her ears had become stones. Her hands were 
 clenched, and dragging herself away from him, she would resume 
 her tigerish walk. The r9aring' solitude of an African forest is all 
 that that terrible midnight can be compared to. Sometimes Dick 
 wondered at the strength that sustained her, and the thrill of joy 
 that he experienced was intense, when about two o'clock, after 
 eight or ten hours of the terrible punishment, he noticed that she 
 seemed to be growing weary, that her cries were becoming less 
 articulate. Several times she had stopped to rest ; her head sank 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 277 
 
 on her bosom, and every effort she made to rouse herself was feebler 
 than the preceding one. At length her legs gave way under her, 
 and she slipped insensible on the floor. 
 
 Dick watched for a time, afraid to touch her, lest by some hor- 
 rible mischance she should wake up and recommence the terrible 
 scene that had just been concluded, and at least half an hour elapsed 
 before he could muster up courage to undress her and put her to 
 bed. 
 
278 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Next morning, when recovered from her drunken fit, Kate was 
 duly repentant, and she begged of Dick to forgive her for all she 
 had said and done. She told him that she loved him better than 
 anything in the world, and she persuaded him that if she had taken 
 a drop too much, it was owing to jealousy, and not to any liking for 
 the drink itself. Why, oh why I did he make her jealous ? It was 
 that that maddened her. When she thought of his being with an- 
 other woman she was not responsible for her actions, and he must 
 forgive her. Dick adopted the theory willingly (every man is re- 
 luctant to believe that his wife drinks), and thoroughly deceived by 
 the credulity with which he had accepted her excuse, Kate resolved 
 to endure the direst pangs that jealousy could inflict upon her 
 rather than have recourse to brandy for relief. Jealousy ! Chance 
 hews the cornerstone of our lives. She had discovered the word 
 — the plinth whereon to erect a guardian demon. 
 
 Nevertheless she was true for a time to her resolve^ ^n d sub- 
 mitted to Dick's neglect with almost stoic resignation. ( Had she 
 remained in Manchester, or had she even been placed in surround- 
 ings that would have rendered possible the existence of a fixed set 
 of principles, she might have cured herself of her vice.j But before 
 two months her engagement at the Prince's came to an end, and 
 Dick's at the Royal very soon followed suit. They then passed 
 into other companies, the first of which dealt with large Shakes- 
 pearean revivals. Dick played successfully Don John in Much Ado 
 About Nothing, the Ghost in Hamlet, the Friar in Borneo atid Juliet. 
 Kate on her side represented with a fair amount of success a series 
 of second parts, such as Rosalind in Borneo, Bianca in OtheUo, 
 Sweet Ann Page in the Merry Wives. There were times when her 
 behaviour was not all that could be desired, sometimes from jeal- 
 ousy, sometimes from drink ; generally from a mixture of the two. 
 But on the whole she managed very cleverly, and it was not more 
 than whispered, and always with a good-liatured giggle, that Mrs. 
 Lennox was not averse to a glass. From the Shakespearean they 
 went to join a dramatic company, where houses were blown up and 
 ships sank amid thunder and lightning. Dick played a desperate 
 villain, and Kate a virtuous parlourmaid, until one night, having 
 surprised him in the act of kissing the manager's wife, she ran ofi 
 to the nearest pub, and did not return until she was horribly iii- 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 27'J 
 
 iozicated. Calling him the most awful names, she staggered on to 
 the stage, accusing him at the same time of adultery, and pointing 
 out the manager's wife as his paramour. There were shrieks and 
 hysterics, and Dick had great difficulty in proving his innocence to 
 the angry imprescmo. He spoke of his honour and a duel, but as 
 the lady in question was starring, the benefit of the doubt had to be 
 granted her. On these grounds the matter was hushed up. Never- 
 theless, after so public an esclandre it was impossible for the Len- 
 jnoxes to remain in the company. Dick was very much out up 
 about it, and, without even claiming his week's salary, he and his 
 wife packed up their baskets and boxes and returned to Manchester. 
 There he entered into a quantity of speculations, of the character 
 of which she had not the least idea ; all she knew was, that she 
 never saw him from one end of the day to the other. Out of the 
 place he was at ten o'clock in the morning, and never did he return 
 before twelve at night. These hours of idleness and solitude were 
 hard to bear, and Kate begged of Dick to get her an engagement. 
 But, fearful of another scandal like the last, he always gave her the 
 same answer — that he had as yet heard of nothing, but as soon as 
 he did he would let her know. Believe him she didn't, but she 
 had to submit, for she could never muster up courage to go and 
 look for anything herself, and the long summer days passed wearily 
 in reading the accounts of the new companies, and the new pieces 
 produced. This sedentary life, and the eflfects of the brandy, which 
 she could now no longer do without, soon began to teU upon her 
 health, and the rich olive complexion began to fade to a sickly 
 yellow. Even Dick noticed that she was not looking well ; he 
 said she required change of air, and a few days after he burst 
 into the room and told her gaily that he had just arranged a 
 tour to go round the coast of England and play little comic 
 sketches and operettas at the pier theatres. This was good news, 
 and the next few days were fully occupied in trying over music, 
 liiaking up their wardrobes, and telegraphing to London for the 
 diflferent books wherefrom they would make their selections. A 
 young man whom Dick had heard singing in a public-house proved 
 a great hit. He wrote his own words, some of which were con- 
 sidered so excruciatingly funny that at Scarborough and Brighton 
 he frequently received a couple of guineas for singing a few songs 
 at private houses after the public entertainment. Afterwards he 
 appeared at the Pavilion, and for many years supplied the a,xiGms 
 and aphorisms that the jewnesse dorie of the metropolis are in the 
 habit of using to garnish the baldness of their native speech. 
 
 For a time the sea proved very beneficial to Kate's health, but 
 the never-ending surprises and expectations she was exposed to 
 finished by so straining and sharpening her nerves that the stupors, 
 the assuagements of drink became, as it were, a necessary make- 
 weight. Her love for Dick pressed upon and agonized her ; it was 
 a dagger whose steel was being slowly reddened in the flames of 
 brandy and in this subtjliaation of the brain the remotest par- 
 
280 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 tides of pain detached themselves until life seemed to her nothing 
 but a burning and unbearable frenzy. What she wanted of him 
 she knew not, but with a longing tihat was nearly madness she 
 desired to possess him wholly ; she yearned to bury her poor 
 aching body, throbbing with the anguish of nerves, in that peace- 
 ful hulk of fat, so calm, so grand, so invulnerable to pain, march- 
 ing amid, and contented in, its sensualities, as a stately bull grazing 
 amid the pastures of a succulent meadow. 
 
 Unkind he never was to her ; the soft sleek manner that had 
 won her remained ever the same, but she would have preferred a 
 blow. It would have been something to have felt the strength of 
 his hand upon her. She wanted an emotion ; she longed to be 
 brutalized. She knew when she tortured him with reproaches she 
 was alienating from herself any affection he might stiU bear for 
 her ; but, nevertheless, she found it impossible to restrain herself. 
 There seemed to be a devil within her that goaded her until all 
 power of will ceased, and against her will she had to obey its 
 behests. A blow might exorcise this spirit. Were he to strike 
 her to the ground she thought she might still be saved ; but, alas ! 
 he remained as kind and good-natured as ever. 
 
 The bottle was now generally hidden under the mattress ; and to 
 disguise her dwmkenness she had to exaggerate her jealousy. The 
 two were now mingled so thoroughly in her head that she could 
 scarcely distinguish one from the other. She knew there were 
 women all around him ; she could see them ogling him out of the 
 little boxes at the side of the stage. How they could be such 
 beasts she couldn't conceive. Behind the scenes they stood for 
 hours waiting for him, and she was told they had come for engage- 
 ments. Baskets of food came for him, pork pies and tongues, but 
 these she pitched out of the window ; and tiie ears of one little 
 wretch, whom she had found loitering about the stage-door, she 
 had soundly boxed. 
 
 Sometimes in her suspicions Kate was right, sometimes wrong, 
 but in all and every case they accentuated the neurosis, occasioned 
 by alcohol, from which she was suffering. Still by some extra- 
 ordinary cunning, she contrived for some time to regulate her 
 drinking so that it should not interfere with business, and on the 
 rare occasions when Dick had to apologise to the pubUc for her 
 non-appearance she insisted that it was not her fault ; and from a 
 mixture of vanity, and a wish to conceal his wife's shame, the 
 poor man still believed, and argued with the friends who knew of 
 his trouble, that his wife had no real taste for liquor — that she 
 never drank except when she had "those infernal jealous fits 
 upon her." 
 
 But instead of diminishing, their quarrels seemed to grow of 
 more frequent occurrence. After the big row, when she threw the 
 soup tureen into his lap, for a month nothing except a few dis- 
 agreeable evenings disturbed their peace ; but lately two fights, 
 that had lasted respectively two and three days, had rendered the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 281 
 
 ontmuance of the sea-side tour impossible. Jealousy might or 
 light not be the cause, but at any rate Kate was often in a state 
 h.at prevented her appearance on the stage, and, as nothing could 
 le done without her, Dick had begun to think of returning to 
 jondon. He had been now in the provinces some years, and Up 
 a town changes might have occurred which he hoped to be able to 
 urn to his advantage : nearly all recent speculations had proved 
 ucoessful, and out of the piers he had saved a couple of hundred 
 >ounds. 
 
 For the provincial actor a Loudon theatre is a temptation at 
 mce divine and irresistible, and Dick had met lately a very extra- 
 )rdinary person, whom he thought might be worth looking after. 
 !s it necessary to say that this being was a woman ? The acquain- 
 ;anceship had come about in this way. One morning Dick had 
 iscaped from his wife, who was raging about the house in a tower- 
 ng passion. Wearied with the shrieked upbraidings which had 
 }een ringing in his ears since morning, his thoughts turned to 
 lome place where he could find peace and solitude. The pier 
 aeing completely deserted at two o'elock, he had gone down there, 
 ffld sitting on one of the benches, in' the sun, he watched idly the 
 liquid tranquillity of a tide that has attained its plenitude amid the 
 languors of a windless day. No sun was visible, but the sky was 
 full of an inner radiance, and one black boat heaved voluptuously 
 ju the sweet blue bosom of the sea. The heat was sweltering, and 
 in the solitude of the baking woodwork a few officials moved round 
 the theatre, whose tin cupolas were scarcely visible against the dis- 
 :oloured blue of the sky. 
 
 But, "out of sight, out of mind;" — ^he had already almost for- 
 gotten Kite's unfortunate caprices of temper, and a thousand 
 theatrical projects had begun to balance themselves in his mind, 
 when his attention was attracted by a strange-looking creature in a 
 ^reen silk dress. The colour contrasted vividly with the pale 
 shimmer of the sea, and judging from the monstrous coquetry with 
 which the wearer caught up the voluminous skirt, it was impossible 
 aot to think of her but as the inmate of an asylum. As if fascin- 
 ited, Dick watched her. They were alone on the deck. As she 
 passed she bowed, smirked, looking back over the green silk with 
 the most grotesque movements possible to imagine. Her gilt hair 
 slipped from under a black battered bonnet, and in huge, shapeless 
 liands she held a manuscript which she glanced at from time to 
 time. 
 
 " She's learning a part, I'll be hanged if she am't. I wonder who 
 she can be ? What a good make-up that would be for a farcical 
 :omedy," thought Dick. , , , . 
 
 Up and down she went, flaunting herself like an aged cockatoo in 
 
 At last he determined to speak to her, and having noticed that 
 she generally made a pause at one particular part of her eccentric 
 promenade, he went and stationed himself there. The thing was 
 
282 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 done in a second ; encouraged by a couple o£ good ©gles, he ven- 
 tured to remark that tbe solitude of Uie pier was favourable tc 
 study. 
 
 " Yes, at this time of the day, but at all others it is crowded with 
 the hubbub of the world that knows no aspiration ; but now, in 
 front of the sea, I can fancy myself alone with my heroes." 
 
 " And who are your heroes, may I ask ? " said Dick, repressing a 
 smile. This was even more than he had expected. 
 
 "My heroes are here," she answered, tapping the manuscript 
 with her knotted fingers, " the brave young spirits of the old world." 
 
 " Oh, I see ; that is one of your own poems, I suppose ?" 
 
 "Yes; I am studying it for recitation. lam going to recite it 
 at a lecture on the chastity of the marriage state, which I am going 
 to give next week at the Working Men's Club." 
 
 " And is the poem on the subject of the chastity of the marriage 
 state?" 
 
 " Only indirectly, just as, indeed, are all noble thoughts." 
 
 Dick did not understand, but the fact that a lady was going in 
 for a recitation argued that she was interested in theatricals. 
 
 Then, with his ears pricked, like a hound who has got wind of 
 somethijig, he said with a sweet smile that showed a whole row of 
 white teeth — 
 
 " Being an actor myself, I will take the liberty of asking you to 
 allow me to look at your poem." 
 
 " So you are an actor ! I was not, then, mistaken. I recognised 
 that you looked nobler than the rest. But you asked to look at my 
 poem. It is a classical cartoon." 
 
 " The devil it is," thought Dick. " I wonder what that means ? " 
 
 " Would you like to hear me recite it ? " 
 
 " Very much, indeed." 
 
 Settling herself into as dramatic an attitude as her sack-like body 
 would allow, she began — 
 
 " Fifth Olassioal Caktoon. 
 
 "Harptm;. 
 
 " The offspring of Neptune and Terra, danghters of earth and of ocean. 
 Dowered with fair faces of woman, capping the bodies of vultures ; 
 Armed with sharp, Iceen talons ; crashing and rending and slaying. 
 Blackening and blasting, defiling, spoiling the meats of all banquets ; 
 Pluud'ring, perplexing, pursuing, cursing the lives of our heroes, 
 Ever the Harptise flourish — just as a triumph of evil. 
 But their thousands on thousands flourish from childhood, ensnaring 
 By every art, trick of evil, weakness, deceit, and pollution. 
 The noble, the brave, and the loyal, spreading their nets for destruction. 
 Harptise w Itz ru our ball-rooms, breathing fierce breath that is poison 
 Over the promise of manhood, over the faith and the love-light 
 That glows in the hearts of our bravest for all of their kind that is weaker—' 
 The chivalrous fii'e of knighthood that honours the title of woman. 
 Harptise stand by our altars Harptiae sit by our hearthstones, 
 Harptise suckle our children, Harptise ravish our nation." Ico. 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 288 
 
 It would, however, be useless to relate further the cruelties the 
 Harptise are in the habit of committing. For at least half an hour 
 the cock-eye rolled, and the cracked voice poured out the verses 
 with ever-increasing fury. Sometimes fearing they might be over- 
 heard, Dick looked round nervously. But jQl was stUI — ^the town 
 dozed behind the green blinds of the distant houses, and the very 
 water seemed too lazy to lap. 
 
 At last the chanting voice ceased and said in plain prose, 
 
 "I hope it touches a noble chord in your heart. Do you approve 
 of my manner of giving the hexameters ? " 
 
 " I think the idea very fine : but — but— if you'll permit me—" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 " Well, there are questions of elocution I would like to speak to 
 you about. I am afraid that I have to run away now ; but we are 
 sure to meet again." 
 
 " You will find me every day at five at my hotel, and I should 
 like to avail myself of your instruction." 
 
 " Thank you ; I shall do myself the pleasure of calling on you 
 to-morrow afternoon ; so for the present good-bye." 
 
 " You do not know my name. Oh ! you men of genius are so 
 full of forgetfulness," she said, ogling him until even her glass eye 
 looked as 2 it were about to melt. " Here is my card." 
 
 Dick had no appointment. The reason of his desire to get away 
 was fear of being surprised by his wife. Well-defined hopes of 
 turning his strange acquaintance to account had arisen in his mind, 
 and having no wish to see his plans nipped in the bud by stupid 
 violence and jealousy, he had come suddenly to the conclusion that 
 the interview had better be relegated to some more favourable spot 
 than the publicity of the pier. Had the lady not given >iim her 
 card he had intended to follow her home. There was no need for 
 that now ; but as he examined the piece of pasteboard a perplexed 
 expression passed over his face. "Mrs. Forest, Mother Superior 
 of the Yarmouth Convent, Alexandra Hotel, Hastings." 
 
 "By Jove ! she is even more cracked than I thought. But if 
 she were sane she'd be no use tome," he said chuckling. "Mother 
 Superior ! Classical cartoons ! Chastity of marriage ! What a 
 combination ! However, I shall know all about it to-morrow. I 
 mustn't miss her. But I had better tear up this card. If Eate 
 came across it all the fat would be in the fire. 1 sha'n't forget — Mrs. 
 Forest, Alexandra Hotel." Then his thoughts faded into dreams, 
 and when they again detached themselves, he murmured, casting 
 the while the fragments of white paper into the lazy, sun-stricken 
 water. "No, I really couldn't; I hope it will he all strictly 
 platonic." 
 
 It was this adventure that had finally decided Dick to try his for? 
 tune in London. His interview with the Mother Superior at the Alex- 
 andra Hotel had turned out a complete success, and after some 
 hours of conversation certain conclusions had been arrived at. The 
 story of the diQEerent soul-tremors and searchings which had induced 
 
284 A MUMMER'S "WIFE. 
 
 her to establish a place of refuge for the weak in spirit had proved 
 a little wearisome ; but when it had been definitely ascertained that 
 the convent was a thing of the past, and that the tastes of the 
 Mother Superior were now operatically inclined, and that she had 
 even gone so far as to compose the first act of a piece in which there 
 was question of Buddhists, stars, daggers, and flowers, Dick, too, 
 began to feel himself endowed with the gift of second sight, and to 
 see visions of property-masters, Eastern scenery, and armies of red- 
 legged girls, at whose head he should reign sovereign lord and 
 master. 
 
 It was very unfortunate, he considered, that he could not attend 
 the lecture on the chastity of marriage ; but they were engaged to 
 do a week at Margate, and he didn't care to disappoint the 
 manager. Mrs. Forest might turn out, after all, the veriest of de- 
 lusions. Far better give her an appouitment, and engage to meet 
 her at the beginning of next month in London ; by that time he 
 would be able to set everything straight, and wind up his little tour 
 with appropriate decency. 
 
 Henceforth the nostalgia of the pavements took complete pos- 
 session of him, and he counted the days he would stUl have to re- 
 main in these monotonous sea-side resorts listening to the perpetual 
 quarrelling of his wife. He said little, but in his heart he was 
 very weary of her, and' he looked forward to London as the pan- 
 acea for all his troubles. There, in a lodging well out of the way, 
 up in Islington, for example, he hoped to settle her. There she 
 would be completely lost, and he would be free to take up the 
 thread of old associations. A new door was opened to him, and • 
 through it he saw defiling a fresh series of adventures and specula- : 
 tions. Each day of delay hung like a millstone round his neck. 
 However, he had not long to wait. Chance came to his assistance 
 and helped him along the road up which he had already travelled 
 in imagination. Through the medium of the paste restcmte a cor- 
 respondence had been established between himself and Mrs. Forest. 
 Projects did not lag in this lady's mind. Excited by a mixture of 
 personal vanity, blown to red-heat by the praises that had been 
 lavished upon her opera, and a mad admiration of Dick, whom she 
 addressed in her letters as a " god-like being," she had already 
 commenced negotiations for the lease of a London theatre. Convenia 
 and platonic marriages were consigned to the limbo of forgotten 
 things, and now at last in the heyday of her forty-fifth year, she 
 saw herself the joyous possessor of love, fame, and a multitude of 
 other things which she sought to give expression to in a series of 
 classical cartoons. These were regularly received by the fat mum- 
 mer, who, it is needless to say, thrust them as rapidly as possible out 
 of the way. It took him as it was a great part of his leisure to extract 
 from the quasi-hexametrio letters that came with the poems the few 
 phrases they contained to the point. " Nothing can be done with- 
 out you," said Mrs. Forest, " and if you don't come at once we 
 ehall miss getting a theatre this season, and without a theatre He 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 285 
 
 re helpless. The Church merely sketches the cold thin outline of 
 lumamty's passion in its appeal to its reasoning power of disorim- 
 nation between right and wrong, while, on the other hand, the 
 Stage takes into its picture of appeal all the vivid colouring of 
 ruth, etc." 
 
 "I know— four pages more of that rot; none of that for me," 
 aid Dick as he put the letter into his breast pocket, and went out 
 o telegraph to Montgomery to engage rooms for them. Kate, 
 vhen he told her of his plans, made no remark. Afraid 
 o express an opinion, she remained silent, but in truth she 
 vas secretly delighted. She saw a possibility of realising a long- 
 ;herished project. To a woman there is always an infinite charm 
 n the society of a man to whom she never can, never intends to, 
 ;ive herself. The power that this platonio affection exercises over 
 ler is scarcely less ardent than the strongest sensual passion ; it is 
 ;he best poetry her nature is capable of, and for it many women 
 iriU risk compromising themselves in their husband's eyes. The 
 excitement of fancied victories obtained over themselves, of mock 
 examinations of conscience, satisfies an ideal ; and Ea,te, above 
 most women, was subject to such nervous sentimentalities. Ever 
 since the breaking up of the Constellation Company she had kept 
 up a correspondence with Montgomery. She looked back some- 
 times with tears of pleasure to their long walks and conversations, 
 trhen in mingled joy and fear she trembled lest he should pro- 
 aounce the vows of love which she could see hesitating on his lips. 
 lo find, therefore, that in her life of change one thmg remained 
 unchanged would be in itself a delight. She was wearied of this 
 perpetual dancing and serio-comic singing, and at times her head 
 &lled with vague remembrances of her successes in the part of 
 Serpolette, she dreamed of the applause of a London theatre. She 
 still entertained dim hopes of one day taking a definite place in her 
 profession. Besides, the study that this ambition entailed would 
 occupy her mind and enable her to conquer her passion for drink. 
 This she was determined to do, for in her sober moments she did 
 not fail to recognise the hold that it had upon her. " Ah ! but all 
 irill be different in London," she would then say to herself, " it 
 will be a new Ufe. In these towns where one is only a few days — a 
 week at the outside — there is nothing to do. In London we shall 
 be settled in a home, and I shall have plenty to look after." 
 
 Such were Kate's hopes and expectations, but the reality unfor- 
 tunately in no wise corresponded with the dream. A little lodging 
 behind the Cattle Market in Islington, was the home he gave her, 
 md there she was left from ten in the morning to twelve at night, 
 to km time as best she could. From the very first day, on the plea 
 of searoting for work, he had left her alpne. She had pictured 
 berself visiting the great thoroughfares, being appalled by the size 
 of the shops, by the plate-glass and the immense show-rooms, where, 
 in blazing mirrors, rutilant with gas and electric light, faiiy-like 
 ball dresses, wreathed with flowers, are prolonged to mfiuity. Then 
 
286 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 there were the theatres. Of those wonderful pleasure-palaces, cap- 
 able of realising in consecutive acts the icy plains of the North Pole 
 and the tropical luxuriance of South Africa, she had heard Dick and 
 Montgomery talk until her brain turned with visions, — visions com- 
 posed of the skirts of a million ballet-girls, of pink tights, and the 
 radiant armour of a thousand choristers; of endless perspectives; of 
 beautiful princesses singing in the green stillness of sycamore boughs, 
 whilst above the dripping murmur of cascades shepherds listen to 
 the longings of plaintive love. 
 
 A scattered and puzzling mixture of these two dreams made the 
 psychology of Kate's mind on arriving in London. She had begged 
 of Dick to take her out to see the sights, and he had promised to 
 do so when he had time. The excuse grieved her but she said 
 nothing, so determined was she to turn over a new leaf and control 
 her temper. Montgomery came once to see her, but the visit had 
 not proved as pleasant as either had expected. Anxious to know 
 what her husband was doing, in what work he was engaged, she 
 eagerly cross-examined the musician. In the name of their friend- 
 ship she appealed to him to tell her the truth, but all she could get 
 from him was an assurance that he knew nothing of Dick's afi^irs. 
 The argument was continued for some time, increasing in warmth 
 with each answer, until unable to contain herself she locked herself 
 in her bedroom, leaving her platonic lover to find his way out of 
 the house by himself. 
 
 For an hour she cried bitterly, feeling all the while that she was 
 the most miserable woman in the world. Oh ! what had she done ? 
 Was all she was suffering now a punishment for having run away 
 from Ralph ? (This was the first time she had thought of him for 
 months.) She couldn't say, she didn't know. All she knew was 
 that she wished she were dead. During these fits of dejection, the 
 long, low cravings for drink that oppressed her were, as it were, 
 irresistible. Sometimes they tempted her in the stomach, which 
 imperatively demanded tlie warm comfort of the stimulant ; some- 
 times it was in the throat that she felt the fiery fingera of the 
 alcohol. And there the grasp tightened, until, with a convulsive 
 movement, she would raise her hands as if she intended to tear 
 open her flesh to free herself from her tormentor. This was bad, 
 but the worst of all was when the temptation attacked her in the 
 head, and she remembered the delicious lassitudes, the heavenly 
 forgetfulness of her miseries that a few glasses of brandy would 
 give her. Over and over again she would, with a shudder, chase 
 the delicate vision from her mind. To avoid it she would move 
 from one room to the other, from the armchair to the sofa. It 
 was the regular English thirty-shUlings-a-week lodgings. In the 
 sitting-room there were the well-known prints, " With the Stream" 
 and " Against the Stream ; " the usual wax flowers stood on a ma- 
 hogany stand ; the familiar round table, with a sideboard, always 
 emitting smells of tea and sugar, facing a hideous gilt mirror 
 that stared above the mantelpiece. In the bedroom the worn 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 287 
 
 carpet could scarcely be seen for large pieces of oilcloth. The 
 white-curtained bed, however, looked clean ; the basin-stand was 
 broken, and the one window commanded a view of some tiled 
 roots, surmounted by red chimney pots, that, in their turn, were 
 topped by arrows and other curious smoke-abating contrivances in 
 zinc. 
 
 The landlady, the motlier of ten children, who scrambled perpetu- 
 ally about the mouth of the kitchen staircase, was sulky and surly, 
 and she resented all the attempts that Kate made to visit her in the 
 parlour. 
 
 Thus passed away Kate's dreams of London. Maddened by 
 regrets, despairs, and temptations, she had once, the third day after 
 her arrival, attem]pted to see the town by herself. She felt very 
 lonely, but determined not to be beaten, a,nd imagining the magni- 
 ficent shops, the monuments that were the wonder of the world, she 
 strove to struggle through the sordid and barren streets of Islington. 
 Dreaming she went, her head still filled with virions of wealth and 
 grandeur, past butchers' and bakers' shops little better than those of 
 Hanley. Was this all ? Had London nothing more to-show than 
 this ? she asked herself a hundred times. Having no knowledge 
 whatever of the town, she could not apply to the policemen to direct 
 her to any particular spot. What she wanted was to see London, 
 and she was in London, only it did not correspond' in the least to 
 the London of her imagination. Next day, however, she was more 
 fortunate. Having consulted the landlady, she drove in a cab to 
 St. Paul's, and then to the British Museum. There, through the 
 cold spacious rooms, she wandered idly, too weary to try to interest 
 herself in the long galleries of eternally suspended gestures. ' A 
 tearless sorrowlay heavy on her heart, and the dust of many memories 
 choked her, and when she again wandered into the sunlight that 
 terrible feeling of strangeness grew upon her, that awful sensation 
 of being lost amid a myriad beings, which a great city produces on 
 a new-comer. All appeared to her impossible. The theatres of 
 which she had heard so much faded from her mind, and she grew 
 bewildered in the fearful Babel of scenes that crowded in limitless 
 confusion upon her. 
 
 Down in the alleys in the dark shadows of archways she saw 
 women in crumpled bonnets nursing children on their knees. With 
 one hand they held the thin blue- veined breast, with the other the 
 box of matches that saved them from the policemait's grip. Kate 
 looked at these creatures in terror. In the streets the sunlight 
 glared, falling on the pavements in wide sheets of whiteness. The 
 traflB.0 roared, the huge dray-horses and their piles of barrels crushed 
 along the narrow ways, the hansom cabmen swore from their high 
 seats ; and through the fierce entanglement the white legs of a foot- 
 man, the fat rein-holding hands of the coachman, and the aristo- 
 cratic delicacy of two centuries of idleness, shading herself with 
 sunward-slanting parasol, passed like a vision of fate mocking at the 
 inutility of toil. 
 
288 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 Asking her way of the blue-coated policemen who at the cross- 
 ings directed the movements of this monster machine, Kate 
 dragged through a series of squares and crescents until she came 
 to tile Euston Boad ; but Islington was stiU far away, and she lost 
 herself a hundred times and had to retrace her steps. She could' 
 scarcely understand what was said to her ; one turning was so like 
 another and the labyrinth seemed so endless that she felt she would 
 like to give up the struggle and in some quiet comer lie down and 
 die. The heat was suffocating, the trees were white with dust, and 
 the acid smell of the fruit shops poisoned the stagnating air. 
 Inside a public-house Kate had resolved not again to enter, but 
 now so ill and exhausted did she feel that there was no manner of 
 doubt in her mind that without some little refreshment she would 
 never be able to get home. No sooner had this idea formed itself 
 in her mind than a longing for a drop of gin assailed her with a fury 
 so intense that to relieve herself of the excruciating pain of resist- 
 ance she hastened her steps and entered the first public-house she 
 came to. She could not wait to find a private corner, but boldly 
 went up to a bar where a crowd of working men were drinking. 
 A large strong girl was just being pushed through the swinging 
 doors. Her black eyes stared with a strange fixity in the sunlight, 
 and not recognising the young man who was supporting her, she 
 raised her bared arms vaguely, as if seeking to defend herself. 
 
 Kate cast one swift look of fear, but the craving for gin was 
 in her throat, and she gave her order. Still there was enough 
 shame left to make her speak of having walked a long dis- 
 tance, of having been overpowered by &e heat of the sun. 
 This was true, and after the flagstones and the raw mid- 
 day glare, the cool sawdust-strewn floor and the subdued light of 
 the bar were infinitely refreshing. And the gin ! Never before 
 had she experienced a sensation of such absolute relief. Perhaps 
 no pleasure is equal in delight to the sudden cessation of pain, and 
 in one moment all the awful weakness, mental apd physical, that 
 had made her life for many days an aching burden to bear, an 
 aching sight to see, slipped from her, and she was transformed into 
 a cheerful, happy woman. Life suddenly seemed to her aa full of ; 
 colour and song as a May morning, and exchanging sympathetic*; 
 remarks with the barmaid, she nibbled a hard biscuit. The' 
 roughs stared at her, but not offensively, and when they heard she 
 was a stranger in town, chatted, she thought, pleasantly and good-' 
 naturedly. Still she was a little frightened, and in a few minutes 
 she said she must be thinking of getting home, and she left the 
 public glad with the conviction of having spent there a very agree- 
 able half -hour. 
 
 But long was the way to Islington, and more than once had she 
 to stop to assuage her parched throat with another and another 
 quartern. Fortunately she had not enough money with her to get 
 absolutely tipsy, and when she staggered past the landlady, that 
 severe moralist only stared after her, being uncertain whether it 
 
\ A MUMMEK'S WIFE. L'S!) 
 
 was drink or fatigue that made her lodger so uncertain on her legs 
 Next morning, of course, came the violent reaction— the gloom, the 
 ternble despondency that the victories of stimulants over lassitudes 
 of all kinds entail, and so depressed was Kate, so eagerly did she 
 long for just one little drop to set her straight, that she did not 
 attempt to detain Dick when he took up his hat and spoke of hia 
 appointment in the city at eleven. He seemed grateful for the 
 respite from the usual reproaches, and gladly, when she asked him 
 to give her five shillings, he slipped a sovereign into her hand. 
 Then they parted for the day, mutually relieved of each other's 
 society. At heart she hated to see him leave her ; had it not been 
 for the fierce craving for that which would dissipate the miserable 
 melancholy that rendered existence unbearable she would have im- 
 plored him to remain. 
 
 The minutes were counted until she thought he was fairly in his 
 'bus ; then bonnet-strings were hurriedly tied, and with rapid steps 
 she hastened away to buy. the liquor herself. Her present landlady 
 was not to be trusted. The idea of the necessity of keeping her 
 strength up was always present in Kate's mind. She only wanted 
 a Uttie drop to pull herself together ; she had drunk too much 
 yesterday, it was true, but she would not do so again. To make 
 sure of this she bought a supply of l-.er favourite fiction, and with a 
 bottle under her shawl and a bundle of Family Heralds in her hand 
 she returned home unsuspected. 
 
 Then from morning to evening, looked in her room with the go, 
 bottle on the table and th^ periodical on her knees, for a week she 
 dreamed passively, re-living in confused remembrances her whole 
 existence. Incapable of understanding a word of the book whose 
 leaves she turned over, her eyes looked stupjdly into space. It 
 seemed that her brain, saturated with sentimental adventures of 
 aU kinds, was incapable of absorbing any more. From her hands 
 the journal would slip slowly, and she would abandon herself to a 
 large, sad current of memory, on whose grey surface floated like 
 rubbish trivialities of all kinds — recollections of commonplace events. 
 From Hanley the torrent of the years came pouring through the 
 devious winding channels of her Bohemian life ; it rolled and eddied 
 now round the remembrance of her dead child, like waves around a 
 post so deeply sunk in the river's bed that its fury could not bear it 
 away. 
 
 . Ah 1 if the baby had lived she would have had something to live 
 for ; but now she was alone, she was deserted. Dick cared for her 
 no longer. It was very cruel. What had she done to merit such 
 unhappiness ? Reflections such as these were generally the culmin- 
 ating point of her reveries, and then suddenly she would burst into 
 a flood of tipsy tears. Sometimes she dreamed of pursuing her 
 truant husband, but after a few staggering steps in the direction of 
 the door she would relinquish the attempt, and guided by a sort of 
 obtuse cunning would lie down on her bed ancL there sleep off the 
 best part of her drunkenness. Then it was impossible when shu 
 
 K 
 
290 A MUMMER'S WIFE. I 
 
 awoke to undertake to do anything before having a drink, and s 
 the days passed, — a moment of passion lost between a booze and i 
 booze. 
 . "Yet no one suspected her. An" instinct like that which guides i 
 bird to conceal its nest continually saved her. She found that b; 
 passing her arm up the chimney she could reach a crossing flni 
 where a good store of bottles might be hidden away, and when sh( 
 went out to buy drink never did she forget to buy sweetstuflF tha^ 
 would take all smell from her breath ; nor did she ever neglect in 
 complain of sick headaches, so that the landlady might not guesi 
 the reason of her constant siestas. 
 
 This period lasted until the sovereign he had given her was spent 
 and the last drop from the last bottle was drained. Feeling veij 
 bad one morning she had got up when Dick was asleep and finisheo 
 what remained from overnight. The dose did her good, but nol 
 having anything to eat after it, and fearing he would smell it upoi 
 her, she had shammed illness, and refused to get up for breakfast. 
 For the sanie reason she had been afraid to ask him for any monej 
 before he left. She hoped to be able to pass one day at least 
 without tasting drink. For an hour or more, ill and wretched, 
 living upon he?self like an animal in a state of torpor ; and listen- 
 ing to a series of dreams that passed through her brain, she laj 
 helpless and inert, plunged in a moody melancholy that robbed hei 
 of all powers of will. The landlady when she came to remove the 
 breakfast things spoke kindly, and asked if she might get her a cup 
 of hot tea. Sighing and complaining Kate consented, but when it 
 was brought it tasted as filth in her mouth, and she had to put it 
 away. By two o'clock she had succeeded in dressing herself; the 
 craving for liquor then became intolerable ; if she didn't take some- 
 thing she felt she would die ; to bear up against the dreadful de- 
 pression any longer was impossible ; a little drop she must have to 
 put her right, and she'd take no more. But apply to the landladj 
 she dared not, credit she had none, being a stranger in the neigh- 
 bourhood ; and she had no clothes of her own that she could well 
 spare. At that moment her eyes fell on a pair of trousers belonging 
 to Dick. She felt ashamed of herself, but she did not hesitate 
 long. The strength of her desire killed her scruples, and with tlic 
 garment wrapped up in brown paper she hurried out of the house, 
 Dick would go on wearing what he had on for at least a day or two, 
 and by that time she would have the money to redeem his pair oi 
 best trousers. 
 
 So eager was she that even the ominous three gUt balls did nol 
 cause her to hesitate, and throwing her parcel down on the countei 
 she asked how much they would give her upon it. Five shilling! 
 was proposed. She at once agreed, and was hurrying away wher 
 the man handed her a quantity of letters he had taken out of one oi 
 the pockets. Putting them mechanically aside she thought nothing 
 of the matter until, during the course of the evening, she remem 
 bered that she would have to put them away in some place when 
 
A inuiuiujin. cj wir"ji. 
 
 Dick would be likely to find them, without, however, being specially 
 reminded of the absence of his trousers. As she sought for a solu- 
 tion of this difficulty her attention was attracted by the fact that the 
 handwriting was undoubtedly that of a woman. Instantly, like a 
 fire burning sullenly in some dark dull twilight, a red flame of 
 jealousy glowed through her drink-sodden brain. Ah ! this was the 
 business that kept him out all day, that did not leave him a moment 
 to take her out ; it was to be free to make love to this creature that 
 he had buried her, his lav'ful wife, up in this filthy hole at the back 
 end of Islington. Feverishly she strove to read, but the MS. was 
 very difficult, and she beat her hands in little fits of mad rage at 
 her inability to decipher these extraordinary effusions. The classical 
 cartoons puzzled her for a long time, and holding her temples with 
 both hands, Kate spelt through a great deal of number four. It was 
 filled with allusions to heroes, the glory of manhood, and to the hor- 
 rible river that guards the dominions of Pluto. Several times lines 
 such as the following : — 
 
 "Zeus, the monarch of heaven, clothed in the form of a mortal. 
 
 Kneeling, caressed and caressing, dxank from her lips joy and love-draughts." 
 
 caused Eate to dash the manuscript away from her, and to burst 
 into hysterical tears. 
 
 Were these descriptions of love interviews which her husband 
 had enjoyed ? Kate asked herself, without, however, being able to 
 arrive at any very definite conclusion. Whenever she thought she 
 had hold of an important clue it slipped from her, lost in a flat fog 
 of mythological references. Her very inability to understand, 
 which she attributed to drink, made her more angry, and she was 
 on the point of tearing the manuscript piecemeal, when she saw 
 something that looked like prose on one or two of the flyleaves. 
 The lady was in the habit of writing her notes on the back of her 
 poems, and from these, though they were much obscured by ridi- 
 culously high-flown expressions, Kate was enabled to gather that 
 Dick and a certain Mrs. Forest had taken a theatre, where they 
 were rehearsing Montgomery's opera, preparatory to producing a 
 grand spectacular piece on an Indian subject by the author of the 
 cartoons. 
 
 Staggering to her feet, Kate caught up the papers and heaped 
 them away in one of Dick's drawers. Drunk as she was, the bitter- 
 ness of what she had just learned rose, like burning vapour, through 
 her intoxication, and she was shaken by an acute pain. Every feel- 
 ing was tortured to the utmost, as a victim's joints might be on 
 the rack. Tlie man she loved — ^yes, with a love that touched on the 
 confines of madness — she now knew was unfaithful to her. The 
 suspicion that had for months been gnawing at her heart, serpent- 
 like, opened its jaws to suck her down at once into its monstrous 
 gullet. For her there was nothing now but to drink. She did not 
 care now whether he saw her drunk or sober. What did it matter ! 
 
292 A MUMMBE'S WIFE. 
 
 So he had found a woman who was starting him in a theatre, and they 
 were rehearsing Montgomery's opera, and they had never told her 
 a word about it. J'hey had never offered her a part, but had shut 
 her up here out of the way. Through the great gloom of grief a 
 small sorrow will often raise its face ; and, like a small bird's call 
 heard in the deeps of a roaring forest, this little cry of personal 
 vanity sent forth from the bottom of her troubled heart a shrill, 
 sharp note. 
 
 And Montgomery ! This was the reason he had not been to see 
 her ; this, then, was the end of all their friendship ! 
 
 Her grief appeared to her to be infinite, and, lie clouds drifting 
 through a grey expanse, recollections of all she had suffered flowed 
 through her mind, and conscious of the terrible contradiction exist- 
 ing between her life as she had dreamed it and as it lay before her 
 in all its miserable helplessness, she wept for hours. Even the 
 bottle of drink lay untouched, and it was not until she heard her 
 husband's step on the stairs that a throb of courage leaped into her 
 heart. 
 
 Starting to her feet she stood waiting for him, her eyes dilated 
 with passion. She did not attempt to put away the bottle of gin. 
 What did it matter if he knew thait she drank ? Was it not he who 
 drove her to it ? Pushing the door open, Dick walked into the 
 room with his deliberate, elephantine movements. The first glance 
 showed him what he had to expect, and he inwardly hoped that it 
 was not going to be an all-night affair. 
 
 " Where have you been ? You don't even come home to dinner 
 now," she said in a voice made husky with drink. 
 
 " I couldn't to-day, I had such a lot of business to look after," he 
 answered in the most conciliatory manner he could assume. 
 
 " Business ! I know d d well what your bus— iness was ! I 
 
 know all about it. You and your filthy woman, Mrs. Forest, and 
 the theatre she has taken for you, where you are rehearsin? Mont- 
 gomery's opera," Kate exclaimed, sobered for a moment by the sheer 
 force of her passion. 
 
 So astonished was he that instead of denying her accusations he 
 stood wondering how she had obtained her information. At these 
 evident signs of culpability her anger increased. She advanced 
 upon him, her teeth set and her eyes staring as if they were going 
 to drop from their sockets. 
 
 Dick watched in alarm. He really feared she was going mad, 
 and with an instinctive movement he put out his arms to restrain 
 her. 
 
 " Don't touch me ! don't touch me ! " she screamed, while she 
 struck at him with white clenched hands. 
 
 Dick defended himself with the ease of a strong man, but never- 
 theless she managed to strike him a heavy blow across the face. 
 
 " Take that, and that, and tliat, j'ou beast ! Oh, you beast ! you 
 beast ! you brute ! " 
 Her sh rieks rang through the house. Pursuing her husband she 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 293 
 
 struck at him. As she gathered her sleek little body to spring, he 
 retreated round the table, like a lumbering bull striving to escape 
 from an attacking feline creature. 
 
 " Ah ! how do you like that 1 " she cried as she tore his face with 
 her nails, and she laughed diabolically when she saw the blood 
 trickling down his cheeks. " That will teach you to go messing 
 about after other women. I'll settle you before I've done with 
 you." 
 
 Dick asked lier no more to keep quiet, but from time to time a 
 fervid prayer rose up in his mind that the landlady might be out. 
 Were she not, it were absurd to hope she would not hear, so awful 
 was the noise. Chairs were thrown down, the coalscuttle had been 
 upset, and at last, as Dick tried to get out of the room, Kate rushed 
 against the rosewood cabinet which stood next the door, and one of 
 the green china vases was sent, with its glass shade, crashing to the 
 ground. 
 
 This unexpected incident caused Kate to pause in her attack, and 
 in that moment the fictitious strength that passion had given ebbed 
 suddenly from her, and she sank weak and breathless into a chair. 
 
 At the same time came a knock at the door. It was the land- 
 lady ; and, trying to conceal his wounds, Dick strove to say some- 
 thing about his wife having had a fit. ' 
 
 " Fit or no fit, I hope you'll leave my house to-morrow." 
 
 Dick made no answer, but shutting the door in the face of the in- 
 cKgnant householder, went into the bedroom to wash the blood 
 from his face. Whilst so engaged he kept a close watch on his 
 wife. She had poured herself out a large glass of raw gin, but he 
 made no attempt to prevent her drinking it. 
 
 " The sooner she drinks herself helpless the better," he thought. 
 " I shall then be able to put her to bed, and we shall have some 
 peace." 
 
 For this purpose he remained as long as possible out of sight, 
 and as he plastered his bleeding face he wondered how he should 
 account for his wounds to Mrs. Forest. There was no doubt but 
 that Kate had torn him very badly. The scratches she had given 
 him before their marriage were nothing to these. One side of his 
 nose was well-nigh ripped open, and there were two big, deep 
 gashes running right across his face, from the cheek-bone to his 
 ear. It was very lucky, he thought, she had not had his eye out. 
 But how was he to account for his face ? It would never do to say 
 he had cut himself while shaving ; and a bump against a wall in 
 the dark did not, as an explanation, seem to him at all satisfactory. 
 
 Against his wife he felt no fiery resentment, only a vague and 
 heavy regret that she could not contain herself, that she could not 
 h^lp giving way to these frantic jealousies. He had accepted in his 
 good-natured manner the theory that she only drank when she was 
 in a rage ; but now as he undressed her and laid her in her half- 
 unloosened clothes upon the bed, his eyes wandered round the 
 room inquiringly : a hitherto unperceived association of ideas 
 
294 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 established itself in his mind, and as if by magic a thousand uncon- 
 sidered trifles were linked and revealed untU the scattered ends 
 were formed into a mass of seemingly irrefutable evidence. TJie 
 langour, the momentary unconsciousness, the blinkmg of the eyes, 
 the violent passions — ^he remembered them all, and tlieir meaning 
 suddenly became clear. Yes, there was little doubt of it • his wife 
 was a confirmed drunkard. But no sooner had the thought framed 
 itself than, resenting the vileness of the accusation, he commenced 
 to argue with himself. He knew that she took a drop too much 
 when she was in a passion, but believe that she was a confirmed 
 drunkard he could not. To be that she would have to drink con- 
 stantly, and he had never found the smell of drink upon her, nor a 
 trace of it in the place. And yet — Here Dick's eyes wandered 
 round the room, and he proceeded to make a thorough search. The 
 wardrobes, the cupboards, behind the shutters, every recess waa 
 ransacked, but without avail. Pleased at his failure to discover 
 proofs, but still not convinced, he stood in the middle of the floor 
 irresolute. At last the fireplace attracted his attention. Deciding 
 instantly, as if with an inspiration, he walked to it. He hesitated 
 a moment, but, mastering his repugnance, he leaned, put his arm 
 up, and brought down a bottle. Looking at it he read, " Best Old 
 Tom." Another and another dive was made, until five large-sized 
 bottles were placed on the hearthrug. 
 
 Comment was impossible, and listening to the hissing gaslight, he 
 stood, unable to collect his thoughts, wondering vaguely how long 
 she would have taken to have made up the half-dozen. Then, 
 going to the bedroom door, he looked at her. Amid a mass of 
 draggle-tailed skirt a pair of worn elastic-sides and a bit of striped 
 stocking caught the eye. 
 
Zib 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 Next morning when Dick opened his eyes he rose from his uncom- 
 fortable position on the sofa, and stole very softly on tiptoe to the 
 bedroom door and looked in. For a moment he considered the 
 possibility of abstracting the basin from the stand ; but remember- 
 ing the sticking-plaster on his face, he decided that the best thing 
 he could do would be to wash his hands and brush his clothes in a 
 hairdresser's shop. Besides, as he had an appointment at the corner 
 of the National Gallery with Mrs. Forest, it would not do to run the 
 risk of awakening his wife. The line of bottles on the hearthrug 
 attracted his attention, and recalling as they did the terrible scene of 
 the night before, a grey cloud passed over his face. For a moment 
 he thought of removing them, but a glance at the clock showed that 
 he had not a moment to lose, and he hurried away. 
 
 He was very dusty and dirty, but after the proposed twopenny 
 clean, on the top of a 'bus he set himself to think out the stage 
 arrangement for the wedding of the Prince Florimel. 
 
 With the exception of his domestic troubles, life had been flowing 
 very smoothly for him of late. In the first place, Mrs. Forest was 
 wildly in love with him, and that meant receiving cheques and 
 classical cartoons. The former were for different services rendered 
 — the reconstruction of her opera, and the various expenses con- 
 nected with the theatre. The reason for the sending of the latter 
 was never explained, and Dick felt no curiosity on the subject, but 
 contented himself with thanking the authoress for her gracious 
 thoughts of him, and changing the conversation as rapidly as pos- 
 sible. This was not difficult to do, for they had always much busi- 
 ness to talk over whenever they met. As indicated by the letter 
 that had fallen into Kate's hands, Mrs. Forest and Dick were the 
 joint proprietors of the Opera Comique, and were now daily rehears- 
 ing Montgomery's opera. With the taking of the theatre Dick had 
 had very little to do. " Inspired," as she said in one of her letters, 
 " by his god-like presence, by the glory of his manhood, whose 
 magnificence made her dream of the noble heroes of the Icelandic 
 legends," she had determined that a sta^e was the fitting place for 
 the exhibition of his " seraph-like qualities," and had acted accord- 
 ingly. On this point she would take no refusal, nor, indeed, did 
 Dick trouble her with one. "Most managements," he argued, 
 "had been begun under similar conditions, and had in the end 
 
296 A SIUMMBR'S WIFE. 
 
 turned out very successful. Why not this one ? To be sure, he 
 hadn't much faith in her Indian opera, notwithstanding the bit of 
 construction he had put into it, but that couldn't be helped. They 
 were going, at any rate, to begin with Montgomery's piece, and that, 
 he felt sure, would turn out all right ; particularly since the sugges- 
 tion he had made to Harding, who had done the book, for the intro- 
 duction of certain effects — ^a devilish clever fellow — he had had his 
 eye on him for some time. And, now he caipe to think of it, it 
 wouldn't be a bad plan to get him to write up to Mrs. Forest's 
 scenery and dresses. When her piece was a failure, they could put 
 up the other, and in that way good material would not be let go to 
 waste. The only thing was that Harding was going in for writii^ 
 novels, and didn't seem to care much for theatrical work. Still, yoB ; 
 could always get at authors when you had a bit of coin to Bbmr>S' 
 beforehand. 
 
 In this way Dick's thoughts ran on until the omnibus drove into 
 Trafalgar Square, and Mrs. Forest's waddling walk was caught sight 
 of. She was the first at the rendezvous. 
 
 "Good lord!" he said to himself, "isn't she awful! If it 
 weren't for poor Montgomery and his piece I think I would dropher." 
 
 She certainly did look a ludicrous object. As she advanced to 
 meet him, she smiled and ogled ; and, holding up her skirt with 
 the most coquettish movement, she held out to hun a soft perspir- 
 ing hand. 
 
 " You looked so noble, so grand, as you descended grappling with 
 strong hands at the ladder, that I could not help thinking of my sixth 
 classical cartoon. You received it, did you not ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! — ^yes, but for the moment I cannot recall the passage 
 you allude "to." 
 
 *' I had no particular phrase in view, my hero, my young god, in 
 my thoughts ; but the general tone— did you not notice ? "• Then, 
 after a long silence and a deep sigh, "But did you not notice 
 that I introduced some lines, so as to relieve the — ^the — of the 
 hexameter ? " 
 
 " Of course I noticed it," said Dick, who had thrown the packet 
 aside the moment he had satisfied himself that it contained no note 
 referring to cheques or the theatre, "and a very pretty song it 
 was." 
 
 " Which one do you mean ? The one Atalanta sings just before 
 the Parcse begin their chant ? " 
 
 "Yes, that's it." 
 
 " ' Te gods, they fail, they falter. 
 
 Thy hand hath struck them down 
 Their woof the Parcse alter. 
 
 Beware thy mother's frown I 
 What such as ..I in glory 
 
 Compared with such as thee ? 
 Would, in the conflict gory, 
 
 That I had died for thee ! ' " 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 297 
 
 With lifted face Mrs. Forest recited these verses in a. quailing 
 undertone, the socket of her false eye watering profusely. She was 
 not more than five feet high,; Dick remained over slk feet, dragged 
 down as he was by the hobbling littie tub by his side. 
 
 " Of course you understand what I meant to tell you in those 
 verses ? " said Mrs. Forest after a long silence. 
 
 Fearing a downright avowal of love, he squeezed the hand that 
 lay on his arm. 
 
 "I like them as well as any I have written. They came to me 
 without an effort. I never truly knew before the ecstasy of an in- 
 spiration. I was thinking of introducing them into my opera. How 
 would you advise me ? " 
 
 "I am afraid it is a bit serious, considered from the point of view 
 of a musical setting," he said, gladly availing himself of this occa- 
 sion of changing the subject of the conversation, which was beginning 
 to alarm him. " You know in an opera, you want something more 
 simple. But that reminds me. Have you heard from Taylor about 
 the pages' dresses in the second act 1 " 
 
 " No ; but I got a letter this morning from the scene-painter. 
 He writes to say thafc — " 
 
 " Oh, that's no matter, he can wait ! But will you promise to 
 come round with me to the costumier's immediately after the 
 rehearsal i " 
 
 "Of course I will promise you anything. You know I can refuse 
 you nothing." 
 
 All Dick cared was that her affection for him should be sufficiently 
 profound to ensure the safety of the ballet girls' dresses. To probe 
 the secrets of her heart to any further extent he had no desire, and, 
 eager to avoid any compromising confidences, he entered into a 
 long description concerning the piece and its prospects of success, 
 venturing even to discuss the ultimate fortunes of the theatre'. 
 Knowing {liat he would be sure to stumble against some acquain- 
 tance in the Strand, he led his fair companion through Long Acre 
 and round by Drury Lane, praying the whUe that she might not 
 cast any more of those ludicrously languishing glances at him. 
 Wlienever they came to a comer he looked anxiously round to see 
 if they were watched. She did look, he thought, so frightfully 
 ridiculous, that it was a punishment to have to walk in the street 
 with her. 
 
 At last they arrived at the stage entrance. In was in a small, 
 narrow street. Groups of young girls and men who gave way re- 
 spectfully before them blocked up the pavement. Dick felt as if 
 he should die of shame. Mrs. Forest picked up her skirt, and flaunt- 
 ing and flirting like a grotesque bird, passed into the theatre, 
 followed by a sniggering crowd. 
 
 In the meantime, Kate lay on her bed, helpless as ever, just aa 
 Dick had left her. It was not until he had given his preliminary 
 instructions to the ballet-girls, and Montgomery ,had struck the 
 first notes of his opening chorus, that a ray of consciousness pierced 
 
29S A MTTMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 through the heavy, drunken stupor that pressed upon her brain, 
 •with vague movements of hands, she endeavoured to fasten 
 the front of her dress, and with a groan rolled herself out of 
 the light. But her eflforts to fall back to insensibility were un- 
 availing. Implacable as the dawn that slips and swells through 
 the veils of Aight, a pale waste of consciousness forced itself upon 
 her. First came the curtains of the bed, then the bare blanknesa 
 of the wall, and then the great throbbing pain that lay like a lump 
 of lead just above her forehead. Her mouth was clammy as if it 
 were filled with glue, her limbs weak as if by violent blows they 
 had been beaten to a pulp. She was all pain, but, worse still, a 
 horror, huge and black, of her life crushed and terrified her, until 
 she buried her face in the pillow and wept and moaned for mercy. 
 Nevertheless, to remain in 'bed was impossible. The pallor of the 
 place was intolerable, and sliding her legs over the side she stood, 
 scarcely able to keep her feet. The room swam as if in a mist ; she 
 held her head with clasped hands ; the top of it seemed to be lift- 
 ing off. With much difficulty she staggered as far as the chest of 
 drawers, and remained for some minutes trying to recover herself, 
 thinking of what had happened overnight. She had been drunk, 
 she knew that, but where was Dickl Where had he gone to? 
 What had she said to him ? All mental effort was agony ; but she 
 had to think, and straining at the threads of memory, she strove to 
 follow one to the end. But it was no use. Hopelessly it en- 
 tangled, and with a low cry she moaned, " Oh, my poor head ! my 
 poor head ! I cannot, cannot remember." StiU, the question. 
 What has become of Dick ? continued to torture her. Raising her 
 face suddenly from her arms, she hitched up her falling skirts, and 
 seeing at that moment the bottle on the table, she went into the 
 sitting-room and poured herself out a little, which she mixed with 
 water. 
 
 " Just a drop," she murmured to herself, " to pull me together. 
 Oh ! never will I take too much again ; it was his fault ; until he 
 put me in a passion I was all right." 
 
 But at that moment the five bottles which Dick had taken out of 
 the chimney and had left standing in a line on the hearthrug caught 
 her eyes, and she let fall on the table the tumbler she held in her 
 hand. The thoughts the liquor had awakened in her were suddenly 
 paralysed, and all down her body she felt herself breaking mto a 
 cold sweat. 
 
 " So he has found it out — so he has found it out," she murmured 
 to herself ; and then the sharp grinding noise of teeth was heard, 
 her glance darkened, a lowering expression fixed itself upon her 
 face, and with trembling fingers she poured herself out another 
 glass of gin-and-water. A new life then seemed to generate, to be 
 melting through her ; ideas began to define themselves. 
 
 " Ah ! so he has been spying after me," she murmured through 
 her set teeth. "So he has been spying after me." And sudden 
 as the fall of a curtain, hatred, bitter and black, fell in front of her 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 299 
 
 mind, and in sullen impotence she raged against her liusband. 
 His innocence and her own culpability were as oil that fed, and as 
 winds that blew the flames of her passion. To trample him under 
 her feet, to tear him as a starving beast tears raw flesh, was all that 
 she could now think of. She had not even presence of mind to in- 
 vent an excuse whereby she might charge him with some part of 
 her fault, of her sin. XJp and down the room she walked, wringing 
 her hands, beating them against the furniture in frantic paroxysms 
 of fury. Her rage was blind and deaf ; only a faint colour of blood 
 danced before her eyes, and it was thus she remembered the scenes 
 of overnight, how she had torn his cheeks and had seen the blood 
 flow. To do so again her fingers itched, and she longed to feel his 
 flesh yielding beneath the sharp nails. Her nerves were strung 
 like strained cords for the conflict. The solitude of the room 
 irritated her ; up and down she went, gradually wearing out the 
 fictitious strength the glass of gin-and-water she had drunk had 
 given her, and this continued until she again staggered under a 
 profound feeling of weakness. Then she poured out some more 
 spirits, and, having drunk them undiluted, she sank into a chair. 
 But when the first moments of exhaustion were over she commenced 
 to think more calmly, and through the stupor of her brain, 
 clumsily, thoughts began to appear. The curtain of black hate 
 was still undrawn ; but it was no longer tossed to and fro in gusts 
 of passion, and more melancholy than ever in its foldless extent, it 
 lay before her eyes. 
 
 She felt that she should never forgive him ; and whenever she 
 saw the five bottles, she experienced a sudden revolt, and her anger 
 threatened to break forth again into wild gesticulations. But the 
 gin held her back with mild persuasiveness, and for a long time 
 she sat moodily thinking over her wrongs. And as her thoughts 
 wavered they grew softer and more argumentative. She considered 
 the question from all sides, and, reasoning with herself, was dis- 
 posed to conclude that it was not albher fault. If she did drink, it 
 was jealousy that drove her to it. Why wasn't he faithful to her ? 
 Had she not given up everything for him 1 Why did he want to 
 be always running after a lot of other women ? Where was he now, 
 she'd like to know t As this question appeared in the lens of her 
 thought, she raised her head from the hand on which it had sunk, 
 and stared vacantly into space. Boozed as she was, the memory of 
 the letters she had seen appealed to her. 
 
 " Oh, yes, that's where he's gone to, is it ? " she murmured to 
 herself. "So he's down with his poetess at the Opera Comique, re- 
 hearsing Montgomery's opera." 
 
 Slowly a determination to follow him formed itself in her niind, 
 and she managed to map out the course that she would have to 
 pursue. It seemed to her that she was beset with difficulties. To 
 begin with, she did not know where the theatre was, and she could 
 not conceal from herself the fact that she was scarcely in a_fit state 
 to take a long walk through the London streets. The spirit drunk 
 
300 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 on an empty stomach had gone to her head ; she reeled a little 
 when she walked ; and her own incapacity to act maddened her. 
 Oh, good heavens ! how her head was splitting ! What would she 
 not give to be all right just for a couple of hours, just long enough 
 to go and tell that beast of a husband of hers what a pig he was, 
 and let the whole theatre know how he was treating his wife. It 
 was he who drove her to drink. Yes, she would go and do this. 
 Her head, it was true, seemed as if it were going to roll oflf her 
 shoulders^ but a good sponging would do it good, and then a bottle 
 or two of soda would put her quite straight — so straight that nobody 
 would know that she had touched a drop. 
 
 It took Kate about half an hour to make her arrangements. In 
 a basin she drenched herself, and regai'dless of her dress, let her 
 hair lie dripping on her shoulders. The landlady brought her up 
 the soda-water, and seeing what a state her lodger was in, placed it 
 on the table without a word, without even referring to the notice 
 to quit she had given overnight. Steadying her voice as best she 
 could, Kate asked her to call a cab. 
 
 " Hansom, or four-wheeler ? " 
 
 " Fo — four wheel — er — ^if you please.'' 
 
 " Yes, that'll suit you best," said the woman, as she went down- 
 stairs. " You'd perhaps fall out of a hansom. If I were your hus- 
 band I'd break every bone in your body." 
 
 Nevertheless, Kate was now much more sober, and weak and 
 sick she leaned back upon the hard cushions of, the clattering cab. 
 Her mouth was full of water, and the shifting angles of the 
 streets produced on her an effect similar to sea-sickness. London 
 rang in her ears ; she could hear a piano tinkling ; she saw 
 Dick directing the movements of a line of girls. Then her 
 dream was brought to an end by a gulp. Oh ! the fearful 
 nausea ; and she did not feel better until, flooding her dress 
 and ruining the red velvet seats, all she had drunk came up. The 
 vomit, however, brought her great relief, and had it not beer for 
 a little dizziness and weakness, she would have felt quite right when 
 she arrived at the stage-door. She was in a terrible state of dirt 
 and untidiness, but she noticed nothing ; her mind was now fully 
 occupied in thinking what she should say, first to the stage-door 
 keeper, and then to her husband. But suddenly an immense lassi- 
 tude overwhelmed her. She did not seem to have courage enough 
 for anything, and she felt as if she would like to sit down on a 
 doorstep and cry. The menacing threats, the bitter upbraidings 
 she had intended, all slipped from her like dreams, and she felt 
 utterly wretched. 
 
 At that moment, in her little walk up the pavement she found 
 herself opposite a public-house. Something whispered in her ear 
 that after her sickness one little nip of brandy was necessary, and 
 would put her straight in a moment. She hesitated, but some one 
 pushed her from behind and she went in. Then a four of brandy 
 freshened her up wonderfully. It enabled her to think of what 
 
A MUMMEE'S WIFE. 301 
 
 she had come to do, and to remember how badly she was being 
 treated. A second drink put light into her eyes and wickedness 
 into her head, and she felt she could, and would, face the devil. 
 " I'll give it to him ; I'll teach him that I'm not to be trodden on," 
 she said to herself as she strutted manfuUy, walking on her heels 
 so as to avoid any unsteadiness of gait, towards the stage-door. 
 
 The man in the little box was old and feeble. He said he would 
 send her name by the first person going down ; but Erfte was not 
 in a mood to brook delays, and, profiting by his inability to stop 
 her, she banged through the swinging door and commenced the 
 descent of a long flight of steps. Below her was the stage. Be- 
 tween the wings she could see the girls ranged in a semicircle. 
 Dick, with a big staff in hajid, stood in front of the footlights direct- 
 ing the movements of a procession which was being formed ; the 
 piano tinkled merrily on the O. P. side. 
 
 " Mr. Chappel, would you be good enough to play the ' Just put 
 this in ydur pocket ' chorus over again ? " cried Dick, stamping his 
 staff heavily upon the boards. 
 
 " Now then, girls, I hear a great deal too much talking going on 
 at the back there. I dare say it is very amusing ; but if you'd try 
 to combine business with pleasure. Now, who did I put in section 
 one?" 
 
 Kato hesitated a moment, arrested by the tones of his voice, and 
 she could not avoid thinking of the time when she used to play 
 Clairette ; besides, all the well-known faces were there. Our lives 
 move as in circles ; no matter what strange vicissitudes we pass 
 through, we generally find ourselves gliding once more into the 
 well-known grooves, and Dick, in forming the present company, 
 had naturally fallen back upon the old hands, who had travelled 
 with him in the country. They were nearly all there. Mortimer, 
 with his ringlets and his long nasal drawl, stood, as usual, in the 
 wings making Ul-natured remarks. Dubois strutted as before, and 
 tilting his bishop's hat, explained that he would take no further 
 engagement as a singer ; if people would not let him act they would 
 have to do without him. Miss Leslie, with her dyed hair tucked 
 neatly away under her bonnet, smiled as agreeably as ever. Beau- 
 mont alone seemed to be missing, and Montgomery, in all the im- 
 portance of a going-to-be-produced author, strode alone up and down 
 the stage, apparently busied in thought. The tails of a Newmarket 
 coat still flapped about his thin legs, and when he appeared in pro- 
 file against the scenery he looked, as he always had done, like the 
 flitting shadow thrown by an enormous magic-lantern. 
 
 Sullenly Kate watched them, tightly gripping the rail of the 
 staircase. The momentary softening of heart, occasioned by the 
 remembrance of old times, died away in the bitterness of the 
 thought that she who had counted for so much was now pushed into 
 a corner to live forgotten or disdained. Why was she not rehears- 
 ing there with them ? she asked herself. At once the answer came. 
 Because, your husband hates you — because he wants to make lov« 
 
302 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 to anobher woman. Then a flood of mad passion rushed to her 
 head, and, as a torrent a leaf, it carried her down the steps and sent 
 her rushing on to the stage. She did not know what she was doing ; 
 she remember not the dirty disorder of her person ; she did not 
 even hear Mortimer and Dubois cry out as she pushed past, 
 " There's Mrs. Lennox I " She thought of nothing but to revenge 
 herself. 
 
 In the middle of the stage, however, she looked round, discoun- 
 tenanced by the silence and the crowd, and, hoping to calm her, 
 Dick advised her, in whispers, to go upstairs to his room. But this 
 was the signal for her to break forth — 
 
 "Go up to your room?" she screamed. "Never, never! Do 
 you suppose it is to talk to you that I came here ? No, I despise 
 you too much. I hate you, and I want every one here to know how 
 you treat me. " 
 
 With a dull stare she examined the circle of girls who stood 
 whispering in groups, as if she were going to address one in par- 
 ticular. Several drew back, frightened. Dick attempted to say 
 something, but it seemed that the very sound of his voice was 
 enough. 
 
 " Go away, go away ! " she exclaimed at the top of her voice. 
 " Go away ; don't touch me ! Go to that woman of yours — Mrs. 
 Forest — go to her, and be damned to you, you beast ! You know 
 she is paying for everything here. You know that you are " 
 
 " For goodness sake remember what you are saying," said Dick, 
 interrupting, and trembling as if for his life. He cast an anxious 
 glance around to see if the lady in question was within hearing. 
 Fortunately she was not on the stage. 
 
 The chorus, looking like a school in their walking-dresses, crowded 
 timidly forward. The carpenters had ceased to hammer, and were 
 peeping down from the flies ; Kate, like the girl in. the print dress 
 she had seen drunk outside the public-house, stood balancing herself 
 and staring blindly at those who surrounded her. Leslie and Mont- 
 gomery, in the position of old friends, were endeavouring to soothe 
 her, whilst Mortimer and Dubois argued passionately as to when 
 they had seen her drunk for the first time. The first insisted that 
 when she had joined them at Hanley she was a bit inebriated ; the 
 latter declared that it had begun with the champagne on her 
 wedding-day. 
 
 " Don't you remember Dick was married with a scratched face ?" 
 
 " To judge from present appearances," said the comedian, forcing 
 his words slowly through his nose, "he's likely to die with one." 
 At this sally three supers retired into the wings holding their sides, 
 and Dubois, furious at being outdone in a joke, walked away in 
 high dudgeon, calling Mortimer an unfeeling brute. 
 
 In the meantime the drunken row was waxing every moment 
 more furious. Struggling frantically with her friends, Kate called 
 attention to the sticking-plaster on Dick's face, and declared that 
 she would do for him. 
 
A lu u iTijujL A i3 w ira. 
 
 " You see what I gave him last night, and he deserved it. Oh ! 
 the beast ! and I'll give him more ; and if you knew all you wouldn't 
 blame me. It was he who seduced me, who got me to run away 
 from home, and he deserts me for other women. But he sha'n't, 
 he iha'n't, he sha'n't ; I'll kill him first ; yes, I will, and nobody 
 shall stop me." 
 
 Looking quite broken with shame, Dick listened to these awful 
 harangues. He had, in excuse for the absence of his wife, told 
 Mortimer and Montgomery that London did not agree with her, 
 and that she had to spend most of her time at the seaside. All had 
 condoled with him. They were searching London for a second 
 lady, and that Mrs. Lennox was just the person they wanted for the 
 part all had agreed. What a pity, they said, she was not in town. 
 At the present moment Dick wished her the other side of Jordan. 
 For all he knew, she might remain screaming at him the whole day, 
 and if Mrs. Forest came back — well, he didn't know what would 
 happen, the- whole game would then be up the spout, and what a 
 shame, for Montgomery's opera, he felt sure, would be a success. 
 Perhaps the best thing to do would be to tell him of the diinger his 
 piece was in ; he might be able to get Kate away. They had 
 always been friends ; she might listen to him. 
 
 Such were Dick's reflections as he stood bashfully trying to avoid 
 the eyes of his ballet-girls. He really didn't know where to go. 
 In front of him there was a wall of people, whereon certain faces 
 detached themselves. He saw Dubois' mumming mug widening 
 with delight untU the grin formed a semi-circle round the Jew 
 nose. Mortimer looked on with the mock earnestness of a tortured 
 saint in a stained glass window. The girls' faces, it must be said, 
 all expressed pity ; and a tall woman, who leaned a delicately 
 gloved hand on a super's shoulder, looked as if she were going to 
 melt with compassion. 
 
 But Kate, although held by Montgomery and Miss Leslie, still 
 continued to advance. The long black hair hung in disordered 
 masses ; her brown eyes were shot with golden lights ; the green 
 tints in her face became, in her excessive pallor, dirty and abomin- 
 able in colour, and she seemed, indeed, more like a demon than a 
 woman as her screams echoed through the empty theatre. 
 
 " By Jove ! we ought to put up Jane Ei/re," said Mortimer. 
 " If she were to play the mad woman like that, we'd be sure to 
 draw full houses." 
 
 " I believe you,'' said Dubois ; but at that moment he was in- 
 terrupted by a violent scream, and suddenly disengaging herself 
 from those who held her, Kate rushed at Dick. With one hand 
 she grappled him by the throat, and before anyone could interfere 
 she succeeded in nearly tearing the shirt from his back. 
 
 When at length they were separated, she stood staring and pant- > 
 ing, every fibre of her being strained with passion ; and it was not 
 until someone, in a foolish attempt to pacify her, ventured to side with 
 her in her denunciations of her husband, that she again burst forth. 
 
304 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 "How should such as you dare to say a word against him ! I 
 will not hear him abused ! No, I will not ; I say he is a good man. 
 Pes, yes! he is a good man, the best man that ever lived ! " she ex- 
 claimed, stamping her foot on the boards, "the best man that ever 
 lived ! I will not hear a word against him ! No, I will not ! He's 
 my husband ; he married me ! Yes he did ; I can show my certifi- 
 cate, and that's more than any one of you can. I know you, a 
 damned lot of hussies ! I know you ; I was one of you myself. 
 You think I wasn't. Well, I can prove it. You go and ask Mont- 
 gomery if I did not play Serpolette all through the country^ and 
 Clairette too. I should like to see any of you do that, with the" 
 exception of Lucy, who was always a good friend to me ; but the 
 rest of you I despise as the dirt under my feet ; so do you think 
 that I would permit you — that I came here to listen to my husband 
 being abused, and by such as you ! If he has his faults he's account- 
 able to none but me." 
 
 Here she had to pause for lack of breath ; and Dick, who had 
 been pursuing his shirt-stud, which had rolled into the footlights, 
 now drew himself up, and in his stage-commanding voice declared 
 the rehearsal to be over. Some few of the girls lingered, but they 
 were beckoned away by others, who saw that the present time was 
 not suitable for the discussion of boots, and tights, and dressing- 
 rooms. There was then no one left but Leslie, Montgomery, Dick, 
 Kate, and Harding, who, twisting his moustache, watched and 
 listened apparently with the greatest interest. 
 
 " Oh, you have no idea what a nice woman she used to be, and 
 is, were it not for that cursed drink," said Montgomery, with the 
 tears running down his nose. "You remember her, Leslie, don't 
 you ? Isn't what I say true ? I never liked a woman so much in 
 my life." 
 
 " You were a friend of hers then 1 " said Harding. 
 " I should think I was." 
 
 " Then you never were — Yes, yes, I understand. A little 
 friendship flavoured with love. Yes, yes. Wears better, perhaps, 
 than the genuine article. What do you think, Leslie ? " 
 
 "Not bad," said the prima donna, "for people with poor 
 appetites. A kind of diet suitable for Lent, I should think. " 
 
 " Ah ! a title for a short story, or better still for an operetta. 
 What do^you think, Montgomery ? Shall I do you a book entitled 
 Lovers in Lent, or A Lover's Lent 1 and Leslie will — " 
 " No, I won't. None of your forty days for me." 
 " I can't understand how you people can go on talking nonsense 
 with a scene so terrible passing under your eyes," cried the 
 musician, as he pointed to ICate who was calling after Dick as she 
 staggered in pursuit of him up the stairs towards the atage-door. 
 " Well, what do you want me to do ? " 
 " She'll disgrace him in the street." 
 
 " I can't help that. I never interfere in a love affair ; and this 
 is evidently the great passion of a life." 
 
A MUMMER'S AnFB. 305 
 
 dating an indignant glance at the novelist, Montgomery rushed 
 afte^ his friends ; but when he arrived at the stage-door he saw the 
 uselessness of his interference. 
 
 In |ihe narrow street, where the sun sweltered between the old 
 houses that leaned and lolled upon the huge black traversing beams 
 like aied women on crutches, amid the stage carpenters, the chorus- 
 girls, t^e idlers that a theatre collects, standing with one foot in 
 the gutter, where vegetable refuse of aU kinds rotted, Kate raved 
 against Dick in language that was fearful to hear. Her beautiful 
 black hair was now hanging over her shoulders like a mane ; some 
 one had trodden on her dress and nearly torn it from her waist, 
 and, in avid curiosity, women with dyed hair peeped out of a sus- 
 picious-looking tobacco shop. Over the way, stuck under an over- 
 hanging window, like a yeUow eye, was an orange-stall ; the pro- 
 prietress stood watching, whilst a crowd of vermin-like children ran 
 forward, delighted at the prospect of seeing a woman beaten. 
 Close by, in shirt-sleeves, the pot-boy flung open the public-house 
 door, partly for the purpose of attracting custom, half with the in- 
 tention of letting a little air into the bar-room. 
 
 " Oh, Kate ! I beg of you not to go in there," said Dick ; "you've 
 had enough ; do come home ! " < 
 
 "Come home !" she shrieked, "and with you, you beast! It 
 was you who seduced me, who got me away from my husband." 
 
 This occasioned a good deal of amusement in the crowd, and 
 several voices asked for information. 
 
 " And how did he manage to do that, marm ? " cried one. 
 
 " With a bottle of gin. What do you think ? " cried another. 
 
 There were moments when Dick longed for the earth to open ; 
 but he nevertheless continued to try to prevent Kate from entering 
 the public-house. 
 
 " I will drink 1 I will drink ! I will drink ! And not because 
 I like it, but to spite you, because I hate you." 
 
 When she came out she appeared to be a little quieted, and Dick 
 tried very hard to persuade her to get into a cab and drive home. 
 But the very sound of his voice, the very sight of him, seemed to 
 excite her, and in a few moments she broke forth into the usual 
 harangue. Several times the temptation to run away became 
 almost irresistible, but with a noble effort of will he forced himself 
 to remain with her. Hoping to avoid some part of the ridicule 
 that was being so liberally showered upon him, he besought of her 
 to keep up Drury Lane and not descend into the Strand. 
 
 " You don't want to be seen with me ; I know, you'd prefer to 
 walk there with Mrs. Forest. You think I shall disgrace you. 
 Well, come along then. 
 
 " Look at me here, look at ine there, 
 Criticise ine everywhere. 
 I am so Bweet," &o., 
 " That's right, old woman, give us a song. She knows the game," 
 answered another. 
 
306 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 Eaising his big hat from his head, Dick wiped his face, and as if 
 divining his extreme despair, Kate left off singing and dancing, and 
 the procession'proceeded in quiet past several different wine-shops. 
 It was not until they came to Short's she declared she was dying of 
 thirst and must have a drink. Dick forbade the barman to serve 
 her, and brought upon himself the most shocking abuse. Knowing 
 that he would be sure to meet a crowd of his " pals " at the Gaiety 
 bar, he used every endeavour to persuade her to cross the street and 
 get out of the sun. 
 
 "Don't bother me with your sun," she exclaimed surlily; and 
 then, as if struck by the meaning of the word, she said, "but it 
 wasn't a son, it was a daughter ; don't you remember ? " 
 
 " Oh, Kate ! how can you speak so ? " 
 
 " Speak so ? I say it was a daughter, and she died ; and you 
 said it was my fault, as you say everything is my fault, you . beast ! 
 you venomous beast ! Yes, she did die. It was a pity ; I could 
 have loved her." 
 
 At this moment Dick felt a heavy hand clapped on his shoulder. 
 Turning round he saw a pal of his. 
 
 " What, Dick, my boy ! A drunken chorus lady ; trying to get 
 her home ? Always up to some charitable action." 
 
 " No ; she's my wife." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, old chap ; you know I didn't mean it;" 
 and the man disappeared into the bar-room. 
 
 "Yes, I am his wife," Kate shrieked after him. "I got that 
 much right out of him at least ; and I played the Serpolette in the 
 Cloches. 
 
 "Look at me here, look at me there ! " 
 
 she sang, flirting with her abominable skirt, amused by the ap- 
 plause of the roughs. " But I'm going to have a drink here," she 
 said, suddenly breaking off. 
 
 "Ho, you can't, my good woman," said the stout guardian at the 
 door. 
 
 " And why — why not ? " 
 
 " That don't matter. You go on, or I'll have to give you in 
 charge." 
 
 Kate was not yet so drunk that the words " in charge " did not 
 frighten her, and she answered humbly enough, "I'm here wi — ^th 
 my hu — s — band, and as you are so im — impertinent I shaU go — go 
 elsewhere." 
 
 At the next place they came to Dick did not protest against her 
 being served, but waited, confident of the result, until she had had 
 her four of gin, and came reeling out into his arms. Shaking her- 
 self free she stared at him, and when he was fully recognised, 
 cursed him for his damned interference. But it could not last 
 much longer. She could now scarcely stand on her legs, and, much 
 to her husband's relief, after staggering a few yards further, she 
 fell helplessly on the pavement. 
 
 Calling a cab, he bundled her into it and drove away. 
 
307 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " Oh, Dick, dear ! what did I do yesterday ? Do tell me 1 Was 1 
 very violent ? " 
 
 " What is the use of going over that again ? It is over now. We 
 must pack up our things and get out of this house." 
 
 " But won't the landlady let us stay ? Oh ! what shall I do ? It 
 is I who am getting you turned out of the house. It is my fault ; I 
 know it is ; it is my fault." 
 
 " It doesn't matter whose fault it is. You had better get up and 
 get dressed." 
 
 " But I can't— I can't. I feel so ill. Oh, my head ! my head ! " 
 
 " I dare say you do feel Ul ; it would be astonishing if you 
 didn't." 
 
 " But I never will again. Oh, that I promise you. But do tell 
 me what I did ; I don't quite remember. Did I not go down to the 
 theatre ? " 
 
 "You did." 
 
 " And I disgraced you ? Oh, no ! don't say that I disgraced you ! 
 And those wounds on your face — the sticking-plaster ; I didn't do 
 that ; don't tell me that I did that ; I love you too rtiuch." 
 
 " If you love me you have a queer way of showing it, that's all I 
 can say." 
 
 " Oh yes ! I do love you better than anything in the world ; better 
 than my very life. Oh, Dick ! don't say I don't love you ; don't — 
 don't ! " 
 
 " I don't say anything, I only ask you to get up. We have to be 
 out of this by twelve o'clock." 
 
 " Yes, and through my fault ! through my fault ! But not all 
 my fault. You said just now that you did not believe I loved you. 
 Well, do you think if it were not love I would do all I do ? It is 
 love of you that is killing me — that is driving me to my ruin. Yes, 
 you needn't laugh ; it is as I say. It maddens me to think that 
 you are looking at other women. I can't control myself when I 
 thmk you are speaking to one. It is that that drives me to drink, 
 for you are, I know, surrounded by them all day long ; a,nd you 
 never once thiok of me. It is that that is killing me ; it is that that 
 drives me to drink. Ah ! yes, it is ; you mustn't smile. All I say 
 is, I assure you, the truth and no more than the truth ; and if you 
 could only know how much I love you you might pity me — you 
 
308 A MUMMBK'S WIFE. 
 
 might forgive. It is not all my fault ; it was finding out about Mrs. 
 Forest that drove me to desperation. I could not stand it. My 
 brain waa on fire, and I had to drink." 
 
 " And how did you find out about Mrs. Forest ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I was told it ; I was told it. What does it matter ? My 
 head is splitting. I am the wretchedest woman alive. Oh ! don't 
 tease me now ! I want you to forgive me if you can, and I'll 
 promise never to drink again. " 
 
 ' ' Well, whoever told you about Mrs. Forest told you a lie. There 
 is, I swear, nothing between her and me. She is a writer, a woman 
 of talent, and she wants me to help her to bring out her pieces, that 
 is all. And by kicking up rows, and coming down to the theatre 
 drunk, you are only taking the bread out of our mouths. I am now 
 in a very good position, and shall hold it if you don't contrive — and 
 you are doing your very best — to kick me out of it. " 
 
 "Oh, Dick ! how can you talk to me so? it is unkind of you. 
 How can you think that I would do anything to injure you ? " 
 
 "Well, it is useless to discuss the question any further. We 
 have to get out of this place by twelve o'clock, and it is eleven 
 now." 
 
 This conversation took place the morning after the scene at re- 
 hearsal. Kate was in bed ; Dick sat on a chair, staring vaguely at 
 a portmanteau which lay gaping in the middle of the floor. He 
 looked very weary, and often an expression of hopelessness clouded 
 his face. 
 
 "For goodness' sake get up, Kate. There is no use lying there 
 complaining of me, yourself, and everything else." 
 
 " Well, there's no use being cross with me. I do feel so ill, so 
 HI. My head seems as if it were splitting." 
 
 " But, splitting or riot splitting, you'll have to get up," said Dick, 
 losing patience. 
 
 But the only answer he got was a moan ; and it was impossible to 
 persuade her to leave the tossed, tumbled bedclothes until the land- 
 lady came upstairs, and warned them that it was half-past eleven, 
 and that they must make haste. Then, staggering on to the floor, 
 Kate sought for her stockings. The progress of dressing was awful 
 to follow. Dirty, limp petticoats a week old were tied anyhow 
 round her waist. Garters could not be found, and a piece of the 
 lining of a dress was used instead. The dress was bundled on 
 like a bag, and the boots were left unbuttoned. 
 
 "Well, I do pity a man who haa a wife like that,'' said the land- 
 lady ; "and he is so gentle, too, with her." 
 
 " Hussies like her always has nice husbands," said the maid-of -all- 
 work. ' ' It isn't like my poor sister, who has been beaten black and 
 blue." 
 
 From Islington Dick took his wife to Holbom, to the house of a 
 woman he knew, and who, he hoped, would view his wife's faults 
 with a little more indulgence than their last landlady. It was most 
 unpleasant to be turned out at such extremely short notice, no mat- 
 
A MTIMMER'S WIFE. 309 
 
 r what the rights and wrongs of the case might be ; and to guard 
 [ainst a repetition of the scene he resolved to make a little ex- 
 anation in the parlour when Kate went up to the sitting-room to 
 ,ke oflf her bonnet. As he anticipated, Mrs. Stevens proved very 
 jcile. Many were the bland looks of sympathy, many were the 
 leaking glances, which said as plainly as words, " Ah ! yes, I 
 iderstand ; I have heard of such tilings. Of course, we must look 
 ter her, and hope for the best." 
 
 All this was very encouraging, and Kate herself was profuse in 
 3r promises of amendment. She was resolved never to touch liquor 
 pin. Come what may, she would never again let a drop pass her 
 ps. The only thing she had to complain of was that she was a bit 
 nely sitting at home all day. She had no friends in London. She 
 ■d not know where to go to, and at night the time seemed very 
 ng, indeed, waiting up for him — ^he never was home before half- 
 ist twelve. Would he see and get her an engagement at some 
 leatre 1 She didn't mind what she got to do. She only wanted 
 tmething to occupy her time. Besides, she would be earning her 
 It, and in these hard times every little helps. 
 Dick promised to do what he could. He would that very day 
 it round and see if there was anything going ; if so, he would 
 t her know. But now he must positively be off. He had an 
 }pointment, and would miss it it he stayed a moment longer. And 
 ith a recommendation to her to cultivate the landlady's society, he 
 ished away. 
 
 Dick had said that he would look out for an engagement for his 
 ife, because it was not in his nature to answer " No " to anything 
 L the world. Had he been asked for a star out of the sky, he 
 ould undoubtedly have replied, " Certainly, I'll see what I can do 
 iryou." His present opinions concerning Kate amounted to no- 
 ling. He merely wished to keep her out of the way. She might 
 iform or might not ; on that point he could not speak ; but to get 
 ii an engagement either at his own or any othertheatre he hadn't Qie 
 ightest intention. How did he know what row she might not 
 tck up, and what she might not say about himself or Mrs. Forest ? 
 asides, he really hadn't the time. He had now to cut down to 
 le about the spangles on the ballet-girls' dresses, and at one o'clock 
 3 had an appointment with Mrs. Forest at the theatre. Fortu- 
 itely, he told the old lady that he was married. She had nearly 
 ed of it, but he was not such a fool as to have risked the chance 
 lat any one else should tell- her ; it was better that it should 
 ive come from him. She had borne it better than he expected, 
 runkenness was a famous excuse. No lady minded a drunken 
 Oman if she were kept out of the way. That was the principal 
 ing — ^keep her out of the way. 
 
 Upon such lines ran Dick's thoughts, as, with a huge limp, he 
 irried away in the direction of the Strand, leaving Kate weak, 
 ilpless, and ill in the loneliness of their new lodgings. Her thoughts 
 sre now occupied solely with the problem how she was to cure 
 
310 A MUilMEB'S WIFE. j 
 
 herself of her vice. But as she considered the question, the bitterest 
 remembrances fled shrieking over her poor desolated mind like 
 mournful winds across a heath. Among these, the loudest and 
 chOliest was the memory of her child's death, and as she lay these 
 long summer afternoons, weeping and sighing on her bed, she could 
 see distinctly defined on a deep blue background every feature of 
 its little pale face. It was all her fault that it had died ; it was the 
 fault of that accursed, that thrice accursed drink, that was ruining 
 her, that was kUUng her. Who had taught her to like it ? she could 
 not remember ; she fancied that it had begun in the dressing-rooms. 
 But what did it matter where it had commenced, she would have to 
 cure herself of the habit now. As the resolution formed itself in 
 her mind, the taste of the spirit rose to her lips, and shuddering, 
 she buried her face in the pillow. The warm burnmg flavours of 
 brandy ravished her palate ; the soft sweetnesses of the gin were as 
 the appealing seductiveness of a youth's lips ; and her whole nature 
 seemed to sink, to fall away helplessly, as she strove to convince, 
 to force it on herself that she would never know any of theit 
 again. 
 
 Then, there were hours when all sorts of cowardly, treaolierous 
 arguments insinuated themselves into her mind, and she sufiered 
 all the cruelties of indecision. It seemed as if the devils in hell 
 were in league against her. Things and ideas of things grew 
 strangely altered, until even her child's death, which above all 
 else should have aided her to persevere in her resolutions, be- 
 came one of the imposing forces against her. For why should she 
 struggle ? What did it matter what became of her ? Dick, whom 
 she loved better than anything in the world, cared for her 
 no longer. Had her baby lived there would have been something 
 for her to have lived for, but it had been taken from her, as eveiy- 
 thing had been taken from her, so why should she struggle ? It 
 was as if a darkened glass lay perpetually before her eyes, wherein 
 she was forced not only to read, but absolutely to see, every scene 
 of her past life, and the mirror being concave everything was dis- 
 torted. Even her love of Dick grinned at her with mephistophehan 
 grimace. What had it begun in? Meanness. What had it ended 
 in ? She closed her ears to the answer, but still the procession of 
 marionnettes went on, and shrill mechanical voices continued to 
 cry in her ears the cost and the worth of all she had ever known. 
 Everything was exhibited in cruel detail, in miserable separateness. 
 It was as if a beautiful watch- in all the wonder of its inviolate pre- 
 cision, had been suddenly shattered and the hidden wheels scattered 
 under the eyes of the owner in meaningless confusion. So did her 
 life now seem disjointed and broken. Often she strove to put 
 some part back into the case from which it had fallen. But in vain. 
 Kate Ede was the result of centuries of inherited customs and 
 forms of thought, and when to this be added a touch of light- 
 headedness, so ordinary in character that, in the shop in Hanley, 
 it had passed unperceived, it will be understood how little fitted 
 
A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 311 
 
 !w^^^ '^ ®^'^°* ^^^ psychological and even physical changes 
 that her new life demanded. She was the woman that nature 
 *"™^2"* °^ 'ler workshop by the million, all of whom are capable 
 of fulfillmg the duties of life, provided the conditions in which 
 they are placed, that have produced them, remain unaltered. They 
 are like cheap Tottenham Court Road furniture, equal to an ordin- 
 ary amount of wear and tear so long as the original atmosphere in 
 which they were glued together is preserved ; change this and they 
 go to pieces. This is precisely what had happened in the case of 
 Kate Bde. Not a whit worse was she than others of her kind, but 
 one of those million chances of which our lives are made had drifted 
 Mr. Lennox across her life. From the first moment he entered 
 her house the whole temperature of her blood and brain had been 
 altered. But the introduction of a passion into a character does not 
 add to it any more than a gust of wind does to a landscape. Prin- 
 ciples may be overthrown as trees may be blown down. Morals 
 may be perverted as land-marks may be destroyed, but no new ele- 
 ment of vitality or strength is gained in either case. It was so 
 with Kate, but in this inst^ance a deadlier disaster than a hurricane 
 had occurred. It was as if a country had been gradually submerged 
 ^y a great tide that after saturating and washing over it for years 
 had slowly retired, leaving behind it only wastes of foul-smeUing 
 mudbanks and putrid reaches of slimy and decaying matter. So 
 much Bohemianism had done for Eate Lennox. The brackish 
 ooze had penetrated her whole nature ; it was heavy with it as a 
 sponge that has just been soaked in the sea with brine. It was a 
 sort of mental dissolution. Every sentiment in her was dead or 
 sodden in drink ; nothing human was left except an inordinate, an 
 exaggerated love of her husband, which grew like a fungus out of all 
 this psychical decay. 
 
 And perhaps the most painful part of all was the vivid conscious- 
 ness she possessed of her own misfortunes, of her own failings. 
 She knew very well that the scenes of violent jealousies she was 
 eonstantly enacting only served to alienate her further from the 
 man she loved, the man she adored ; very well did she know that 
 the passion that held her by the throat had disgraced and dishonr 
 cured her, and was dragging her down to death. It was in this 
 knowledge that the bitterest bitterness lay. For hours she would 
 sit with tears running down her cheeks weeping at her misfortunes. 
 But she was helpless. From afar she could see the demon watch- 
 ing her ; often she tried to fly from him. Steadily he would steal 
 nearer until she could feel a red hand laid upon her, and she would 
 put on her bonnet and go out to have j ust ' ' two penn'orth. " Then 
 with a wee drop more in a small bottle she would return home to 
 brood over her wrongs. Wrongs she undoubtedly had ; and 
 tortured with suspicions of Mrs. Forest, she used to sit by her 
 window until her brain positively reeled as it were with the fumes 
 of suspicion. She suspected everybody of love designs on Dick, 
 and in solitary suUenness she' spent her time constructing elaborate 
 
S12 A MUMMER'S 'WIFK. 
 
 plots and plans out of the most trivial incidents of ordinary life. 
 In her brain, at once dazzled by drink and rendered nervous by 
 long brooding, the smallest events became magnified atid distorted. 
 A word heedlessly spoken hours, perhaps days, ago, -would sud- 
 denly start into her memory, and then arguing upwards there 
 seemed to be no conclusion too preposterous for her to arrive at, 
 and working with such means it was not diflicult for her to pick 
 quarrels with whatever friends she had. Miss Leslie, who, although 
 she thought Kate much changed, for old friendship's sake- often 
 came to see her, had , for some whimsical fancy been insulted and 
 turned out of the house ; Montgomery she would not speak to be- 
 cause she could not convince herself that it was not he who, for 
 the furtherance of his own schemes, had introduced Mrs. Forest to 
 her husband. The poor musician bore with her patiently, hoping 
 always that she would go back to her old self ; but as time went on 
 she grew only more and more intractable and hard to bear with. 
 The impression that she was a persecuted woman prevented her 
 from realizing how terrible, nay, even ferocious, her temper had 
 become. How it and drink, like twin sisters, had joined hands, 
 and by their mutual assistance and encouragement the most diabolical 
 scenes were arrived at. Yet between the hours of passion there 
 were moments of peace and sweet affection. 
 
 She had a box in which she kept her souvenirs. They were a 
 curious collection. A withered flower, a broken cigarette-holder, 
 two or three old buttons that had fallen from his clothes, and a lock 
 of hair. But it was underneath these that lay the prize of prizes — 
 a string of false pearls. Never did she see this precious relic with- 
 out trembling, and to put it round her neck for a few minutes after 
 her lonely dinner when she was waiting for him to come home, 
 charmed and softened her as nothing else did. It was a necklace 
 she had to wear in a comedietta they had both played in. The Lovers 
 Knot. Well did she remember the day they had gone out to buy 
 it together ; it had been one of the happiest in her life. But it was 
 precisely the reaction caused by these moments of tenderness that 
 was terrible to witness. Gradually from looks of dreamy happiness 
 the face would become clouded, and as bitter thoughts of wrongs 
 done her surged up in her mind, the tiny nostril would dilate and 
 the upper lip contract, until the whitp canine tooth was visible. 
 For ten minutes more she would remain, her hands grasping nerv- 
 ously at the arms of her chair : by that time the paroxysm would 
 have obtained complete mastery over her, and with her brain deaf 
 and cold as stone she would walk across the room to where the liquor 
 was kept, and moodily sipping the gin-and-water, she would form 
 plans as to how she would attack him when he arrived home. 
 Hours and hours would pass first, but at last, through the stUlnesa 
 of the night, she could hear his heavy footsteps. Then she would 
 prepare for battle. These fights, which now never numbered fewer 
 than three a week, always began in the same manner. Dick entered 
 in his usual deliberate elopliantine way ; Kate made no sign until 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 313 
 
 he was seated, but assuming then an air of indifference, if the 
 quarrel was premeditated, she would ask him what the news was. 
 
 For many reasons tliis question was a difficult one to answer. 
 To tell that he had been round to tea with one of the girls was 
 clearly out of the question ; to explain how he had wheedled Mrs. 
 Forest into all sorts of theatrical follies was likewise not to be 
 thought of as a subject of news, and as to making conversation out 
 of the rest of the day's duties he really didn't see how he was to do 
 it. Miss Howard had put out the entire procession by not listening 
 to his instructions ; Miss Adair, although she was playing the 
 Brigand of the Ultramarine Mountains, had threatened to throw up 
 her part if she were not allowed to wear her diamond earrings. 
 The day had gone in deciding such questions ; had passed in 
 drilling those infernal girls, and what interest could there be 
 in going through it all over again. Besides, he never knew 
 how or where he might betray himself, and Kate was so quick 
 in picking up the slightest word and twisting it into extraordinary 
 meanings, that he really would prefer to talk about something 
 else. 
 
 " I can't understand how you can have been out all day withoiit 
 having heard sometliing. It is because you want to keep me shut 
 up here and not let^me know anything of your goings-on ; but I 
 shall go down to the theatre to-morrow and have it out of you." 
 
 " My dear, I assure you that I was at the rehearsal all day. The 
 girls don't know their music yet, and it puts me out in my stage 
 arrangement. That is, I give you my word, all I heard or saw to- 
 day. I have nothing to conceal from you." 
 
 " Tou are a liar, and you know you are ! " 
 
 Blows and shrieks followed, and so it went on, often until the 
 dawn began to break. Sometimes, perhaps, Kat.e would drink her- 
 self to sleep a little earlier, and, with a sigh, Dick would put her 
 to bed. These quarrels were of all sorts and kinds : and they 
 differed widely, both in the violence indulged in and in their 
 duration. There was only one thing that could be said, which 
 was, that these fits of uncontrolled anger seemed to be passing 
 the border-line, and to be drifting into a state of unbridled passion, 
 of rage so limitless that to account for its unreason was possible 
 in no other way but by supposing the patient to be insane. 
 And in Kate's worst paroxysms there were all the symptoms of 
 madness, for while she poured out her torrents of abuse she often i 
 foamed at the mouth, and she approached him with compressed,, 
 lips and a virulent frown. Then she drew back her lips, especially; 
 the corners of the upper lip, and showed her teeth, aiming a 
 vicious blow at him. And not unfrequently in these combats did 
 Dick run close risks of carrying away with him something more 
 than a mere scratch on the face ; for being in these times entirely 
 deprived of free-will, there was no object within reach, no matter 
 how dangerous, that she would not catch up and use unhesi- 
 totincrly as a weapon of offence. One night she narrowly escaped 
 
314 A MUMMBK'S WIFE 
 
 committing manslaughter. She had been waiting hours alone, and 
 it was half-past eleven o'clock, and Dick had not yet come in. But 
 long before this time she had worked herself into a fury of passion, 
 and when he entered he saw at once what he had to expect. The 
 only question was whether it would be a war of words or of blows, 
 or a mixture of both. Stopping in her walk, she confronted him 
 suddenly. 
 
 " What have you been doing out till this time of night ? Amus- 
 ing yourself with Mrs. Forest, I suppose. I shall pull that woman's 
 nose off; I know I shall." 
 
 " I give you my word, my dear, that I have been the whole even- 
 ing with Montgomery and Harding cutting the piece." 
 
 " Cutting the piece ! And I should like to know why I'm not in 
 that piece. I suppose it was you who kept me out of it. Oh, you 
 beast ! why did you ever have anything to do with me ? It is you 
 who are ruining me. Were it not for you, do you think I should 
 be drinking ? Not I — it was all your fault." 
 
 Dick made no attempt to answer these accusations, but throwing 
 his hat aside, he let himself fall into a chair. He was very tired. 
 Kate continued her march up and down the room for some moments 
 in silence, but he could see from the twitching of her face and the 
 swinging of her arms that the storm was bound to burst soon. 
 Presently she said — 
 
 " You go and get me something to drink ; I've had nothuig all 
 this evening." 
 
 " Oh, Kate dear! I beg of " 
 
 " Oh, you won't, won't you ? We'll see about that,'' she answered 
 as she looked around the room for the heaviest object she could 
 conveniently throw at him. 
 
 Seeing how useless it would be to attempt to contradict her in her 
 present mood, Dick, rising to his feet, said hurriedly : 
 
 " Now there is no use in getting into a passion, Kate. Ill go, 
 I'll go." 
 
 " You'd better, I can tell you." 
 
 ' ' What shall I get, then ? " 
 
 " Get me half-a-pint of gin, and be quick about it — I'm dying of 
 thirst." 
 
 Even Dick, accustomed as he was now to these scenes, could not 
 repress a look in which there was at once mingled pity, astonish- 
 ment, and fear, so absolutely demoniacal did this little woman, 
 her dark complexion gone to a dull greenish pallor, seem as she 
 raved under the watery light of the lodging-house gas. Involun- 
 tarily he called to mind the mild-eyed workwoman he had known 
 in the linendraper's shop in Hanley, and asked himself if it were 
 possible that she and this raging creature, more like a tiger in her 
 passion than a human being, were one and the same person ? The 
 question presented itself confusedly, stupidly, to his mind, and little 
 attraction as psychological analysis had for him, he could not choose 
 but wonder. But anotlier scream came, bidding him make liaste, 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 316 
 
 or it would be worse for him. He bent his head and went to fetch 
 the gin. 
 
 In the meantime Kate's fury leaped, crackled, and burnt with the 
 fierceness of a house in the throes of conflagration, and in the 
 smoke-cloud of hatred which enveloped her only fragments of ideas 
 and sensations flashed like falling sparks, intense and as transient, 
 through her mind. Up and down the room she walked swinging 
 her arms, only hesitating, as a fire will in the vacuum it has created, 
 for some new object whereon to wreak new fury. Suddenly it 
 struck her that Dick had been too long away — that he was keeping 
 her waiting on purpose. Then, grinding her teeth, she muttered — 
 
 "Oh, the beast ! Would he — would he keep me waiting, and 
 since nine this morning I have been alone." 
 
 In an instant her resolve was taken. It came to her like the in- 
 stinct of revenge to an animal, sullenly, obtusely. No consideration 
 was given, but, seizing a. large stick, the handle of a brush that 
 happened to have been broken, she stationed herself at the top of the 
 landing. A feverish tremor agit.-ited her as she waited in the semi- 
 darkness of the stairs. At last, however, she heard the door open, 
 and Dick came up slowly with his usual heavy tread. Making 
 neither sign nor stir, she allowed him to get past her, and then, 
 raising the brush-handle, she landed him one across the back. The 
 poor man uttered a long cry, and the crash of broken glass was heard. 
 
 " What did you hit me like tliat for ? " he cried, holding himself 
 with both hands. 
 
 " You beast, you ! I'll teach you to keep me waiting. You 
 would, would you ! Do you want another ? Go into the sitting- 
 room." 
 
 Dick obeyed hiunbly and in silence. His only hope was that the 
 landlady had not been woke up, and he felt uneasily at his pockets, 
 tiirough which he could feel the gin dripping down his legs. 
 
 " WeU, have you brought the drink I sent you for ? Where is 
 it?" 
 
 " Well," replied Dick, desirous of conciliating at any price, " it 
 was in my pocket, but when you hit me with that stick you broke 
 it." 
 
 " I broke it ? " cried Kate, her eyes glistening with fire. 
 
 " Yes, dear, you did ; it wasn't my fault." 
 
 " Wasn't your fault ! Oh, you horrid wretch 1 you put it there 
 on purpose that I should break it." 
 
 " Oh ! now really, Kate," he cried, shocked by the illogicalness of 
 the accusation, " how could I know that you were going to hit me 
 there ! " 
 
 " I don't know and I don't care ; what's that to me? But what 
 I am sure of is that you always want to spite me, that you hate me, 
 that you would wish to see me dead, so that you might marry Mrs. 
 
 " I can't think how you can say such tilings. I have often told 
 you that Mrs. Forest and 1 " 
 
318 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " Oh 1 don't bother me. I am not such a fool. I know she 
 keeps you, and she will have to pay me a drink to-night. Go 
 and get another bottle of ^in ; and mind you pay for it with the 
 money she gave you to-day. Yes, she shall stand me a drink 
 to-night ! " 
 
 "I give you my word I haven't another penny-piece upon me; 
 it is just the accident " 
 
 But Dick did not get time to finish the sentence ; he was inter- 
 rupted by a heavy blow across the face, and like a panther that has 
 tasted blood, she rushed at him again, screaming all the while, " Oh 1 
 you have no money. You liar I you liar ! So you would make me 
 believe that she does not give you money, that you have no money of 
 hers in your pocket. You would keep it all for yourself ; but you 
 sha'n't, no, you sha'n't, for I will tear it from you and throw it in 
 your face 1 Oh, that filthy money ! that filthy money ! " ' 
 
 The patience with which he bore with/her was truly angelic. 
 With one stroke he might have easily felled her to the ground, but 
 he contented himself with merely warding off the blows she aimed 
 at him. This, from his great height and strength, he was easily 
 able to do, and she struck at him with her little womanish arms as 
 she might against a door. 
 
 " Take down your hands," she screamed, exasperated to a last 
 degree. " You would strike me, would you ? You beast ! I know 
 you would." 
 
 Her rage had now reached its height. Showing her clenched 
 teeth, she foamed at the mouth, the bloodshot eyes protruded from 
 their sockets, and her voice grew more and more harsh and dis- 
 cordant. But although tlie excited brain gave strength to the 
 muscles and energy to the will, unarmed she could do nothing 
 against Dick, and suddenly becoming conscious of this she rushed to 
 the fireplace and seized the poker. With one sweep of the arm she 
 cleared the mantel-board, and as she advanced round the table, 
 brandishing her weapon, the mirror come in for a tremendous blow ; 
 but, heedless of the shattered glass, she followed in pursuit of ' 
 Dick, who continued to defend himself dexterously with a chair. 
 How long this combat might have lasted it is difficult to say, 
 had not his attention, when Kate was using the poker by turns 
 as spear and sabre, been interrupted by the view of the land- 
 lady's face at the door ; and so touched was he by the woman's 
 dismay when she looked upon her broken furniture, that he 
 forgot to guard himself from the poker. Kate, taking advantage 
 of the occasion, whirled the weapon round her head. He saw it 
 descending in time, and half warded off the blow ; but it came 
 down with awful force on the forearm, and glancing off, inflicted a 
 severe scalp wound. The landlady screamed "Murder!" and 
 Dick, seeing that matters had come to a crisis, closed in upon hia 
 wife, and undeterred by yells and struggles, pinioned her and forced 
 her into a chair. 
 
A MXJMMER'S WIFE. S17 
 
 " Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! You are all bleeding, sir," cried the 
 idlady : "she has nearly killed you." 
 
 "Never mind me. Bnt what are we to do ? I think she has 
 ne mad this time." 
 
 "That's what I think," said the landlady, trying to make herself 
 ard above Kate's shrieks. 
 
 " Well, then, go and fetch a doctor, and let's hear what he has 
 say," replied Dick, as he changed his grip on Kate's arms, for in 
 iesperate struggle she had nearly succeeded in wrenching herself 
 36. The landlady retreated precipitately towards the door. 
 "WeU, wiUyougo?" 
 " Yes, yes, I'll run at once." 
 
 "You had better," yelled the mad woman after her. "I'll 
 ve it to you 1 Let me go ! let me go, will you ? " 
 But Dick never ceased his hold of her, and the blood dripped 
 )on her. trickling in large drops into her ears, and down into her 
 ick and bosom. 
 
 " You are spitting on me, you beast ! You filthy beast ! I'll pay 
 m out for this." Then, perceiving that it was blood, the intona- 
 sn of her voice changed, and in terror she screamed, "Murder! 
 urder! He is murdering me 1 Is there no one here to save me." 
 The minutes seemed like eternities. Dick felt himself growing 
 int, and should he lose his power over her before the doctor 
 rived, the consequences might be fatal to himself, so he struggled 
 ith her for very life. 
 
 At last the door was opened, and a man walked, tripping in so 
 )nig over a piece of the broken mirror, into the room. It was the 
 jctor, and accustomed as he was to betray surprise at nothing, he 
 luld, nevertheless, not repress a look of horror on catching sight of 
 le scene around hun. 
 
 The apartment, to begin with, was almost dismantled ; chairs lay 
 ickless about the floor amid china shepherdesses and toreadors ; 
 .ctures were thrown over the sofa, and a huge pUe of wax fruit — 
 )ples and purple grapes — was partially reflected in a large piece of 
 irror that had fallen across the hearthrug. 
 
 "Come, help me to hold her," said Dick, raising his blood-stained 
 loe. 
 
 The doctor with a quick movement took possession of Kate's 
 •ms. "Give me a sheet from the next room ; I'll soon make her fast. " 
 The threat of being tied had its effect. Kate became quieter, and 
 ter some trouble fiiey succeeded in carrying her into the next 
 lom and laying her on the bed. There she rolled convulsively, 
 sating the. pillows with her arms. The landlady then stationed 
 srself at the door to give notice of any further manifestation of fury, 
 hilst Dick explained the circumstances of the case to the doctor. 
 After a short consultation, he agreed to sign an order declaring 
 lat in his opinion Mrs. Lennox was a dangerous lunatic. 
 " Will that be enough," said Dick, " to place her in an asylum ? " 
 " No you will have to get the opinion of another doctor." 
 
318 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 The poasibility of being able to get rid of his wife was to hi 
 the sudden dawning of a new life, and dazzled with joy and c 
 keener than anything he had known before. Dick rushed off, 
 ing, haggard, wild-looking as he was, to seek for another 
 who would concur in the judgment of the first. He coul 
 knelt down and kissed that man's hand. Was it possible, he 
 himself, to see Kate in her present position, and say oonsciem 
 that she was a person who could be safely trustsd with her li' 
 He thought not, and to his great joy this view was taken 1 
 second authority consulted, and having placed his wife unde 
 and key, Dick lay down to rest a happier man than he had be 
 many a day. The principal question in his mind was, of cou 
 to the means he should adopt to place her in the asylum, 
 was not to be thought of ; persuasion was in the first instanci 
 tried. So far he was decided, but as to the arguments he 
 advance to induce her to give up her liberty he knew nothin 
 did he attempt to formulate any scheme, and when he enten 
 sitting-room next morning he relied more on the hope of i 
 her repentant, and appealing to and working on her feelings 
 morse than anything else. " The whole things" as he put it 
 pended upon the humour he should find her in." 
 
 In a dreadful state of deshabilU, with stains of blood still up 
 face, Kate sat weeping bitterly as a Magdalen, amid the 1 
 furniture. 
 
 "Oh, Dick ! Dick ! What have I done ? What have I 
 Can you ever forgive me ? " she said, throwing herself at hi 
 " I am so sorry. I am so miserable. But it was not I who 
 this. Tell me, Dick, tell me, for I do not remember, it is a 
 fused in my head — was I very violent ! " 
 
 "Well, my dear," said Dick, casting an involuntary glance 
 the room as he searched for a chair that would be safe for 
 sit on, " there is no use in going over that subject again, 
 great pity that you cannot do without the drink. " 
 
 " I know it ! I know it ! but I cannot help it. To sit 1: 
 those hours alone, and know that you are with other womei 
 that that maddens me. Oh, why do you do it ? " 
 
 " Don't let us talk about that, or you will excite yourself i 
 
 " Oh no, I sha'n't. I feel too Ul and too wretched." 
 
 To this Dick made no answer. He sat with his hands on 
 knees and the big felt crushed over his eyes. This was pu] 
 arranged so, for the production of his wounds was to be tlu 
 effect," and he fervidly hoped they would decide the situatio 
 
 "But tell me, Dick— Dick, tell me— was I very bad? 
 know what came over me, but I think I must have felt wh 
 mad feel. I could not — no, I could not — restrain myself. ] 
 couldn't. But tell me— tell me, Dick— did I strike you? 
 member something — yes, I remember that the doctor car 
 least I think it was a doctor, but it is all confused in mj 
 Tell rae, what did he say ? " 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 319 
 
 "He said that if you did not take care something very serious 
 would happen." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know," sobbed Kate ; " I am making your life miser- 
 able, yet I love you better than anything in the world. It is very 
 horrible, very terrible, and yet I can't help myself." 
 
 " I know, that's just what the doctor said ; " and after pausing so 
 as to give his words time to strike well home, he took oflf his hat 
 and showed the linen bandages. 
 
 The effect was magical. With eyes staring with horror Kate rose 
 to her feet. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " she exclaimed, pressing her hands to her face ; 
 then, withdrawing them, she looked round the room anxiously, 
 wildly, seeking unconsciously for the weapon she had used. But 
 the very action forced her to realise the truth, and in a lightning 
 instant she saw 'that she had attempted her husband's life. 
 
 " Dick ! Dick I " she screamed, "is it possible that it was I who 
 did that ? Ah ! yes, I remember I took the — " She could not 
 finish the sentence for shame. 
 
 " Well, dear," said Dick, as cautiously as a man who was playing 
 dice with his life at stake, " it was not your fault." 
 
 Not understanding she looked at him, and repeated the words 
 after him, " Not my fault ? " 
 
 He felt that the slightest imprudence of phrase might ruin him ; 
 and, thinking tliat he had better be coniidential, he said, " Well 
 dear, it was not your fault. You hadn't the least idea of what you 
 were doing — at least the doctor said so ; but he also said that you 
 would get well if you took care of yourself." 
 
 A grey cloud passed over Kate's face, and she asked calmly, but 
 with intense emotion, " Dick, tell me^ — I beseech of you tell me 
 truly what he said. Did he say that I was mad ? " 
 
 Without answering this too direct question, Dick told in brief 
 phrafies how she had commenced by breaking the furniture, and 
 then how she had caught up the poker, swearing she wcojld kill 
 him ; and resolved to bend her to his wishes, he insisted that it was 
 only by the merest chance he had escaped with his life. The con- 
 versation was interrupted by sobs and protestations, and Kate 
 allowed her arms to fall across Dick's knees in picturesque move- 
 ments full of a grand despair. 
 
 With a thousand kind words he soothed, he consoled ; over and 
 over again he hinted that it was not her fault, venturing even to 
 insinuate that she was not responsible for her actions. 
 
 " Then I am really downright mad ? " said Kate, raising her tear- 
 stained face from her arms. " Did the doctor say so ? " 
 
 This was by far too direct a question for Dick to answer, and he 
 preferred to equivocate. 
 
 " Well, my dear — mad ? He didn't say that you were always mad. 
 but he said you were liable to fits, and that if you didn't take care 
 yiose fits would grow upon you, and you would become — " 
 
 Then he hesitated as he always did before a direct statement. 
 
320 A MUMMER'S WIFE 
 
 " But what did he say I must do to get well ? " 
 
 " He adT'ised, he suggested, tihat you should go and live in 
 place where you would not be able to get hold of any liquor ; 
 place, you know, where you would be looked after." 
 
 " You mean a madhouse. Oh, Dick ! you wouldn't put m 
 madhouse, would you ? " 
 
 " Of course, my dear, I would not put you anywhere wher 
 did not like to go ; but he said nothing about a madhouse." 
 
 " What did he say, then 1 " 
 
 " He spoke merely of one of those houses which are under m 
 supervision, and where any one can go and live for a time ; : 
 of hospital, you know." 
 
 The argument was continued for an hour or more. We( 
 Kate protested against being locked up as a mad woman ; whi 
 conscious of the strong hold he had over her, reminded hei 
 thousand ways of the terrible danger she ran of awakenin 
 morning to find herself a murderess. Yet it is difficult, no i 
 how irrefutable the reasons advanced may be, to persuade any 
 voluntarily enter a lunatic asylum ; and it was not untU Dick ( 
 side skilfully threatened her with separation, and tempted her i 
 other with the hope of being cured of her vice and living wit 
 happily ever afterwards, that she consented to enter Dr. — 's p 
 asylum, Craven street, Bloomsbury. But even then the batt 
 not won, for when he suggested going off there at once, he 
 nearly brought another fit of passion down on his head. I 
 only the extreme lassitude and debility. produced from the ex 
 of last night that saved him. She was now as helpless, as lii 
 a wet chickeii. 
 
 "Oh, Dick, dear ! it you only knew how I love you ! I 
 give my last drop of blood to save you from harm." 
 
 " I know you would, dear ; it is the fault of tliat confo 
 drink," he answered, his hearttensewith the hope of beingrid ( 
 Then the packing began. Kate, sitting disconsolate on thi 
 ~ watchedDick folding up her dresses and petticoats. It seemed 
 that everything had ended, and wearily she collected the pearls 
 had been scattered, in last night's skirmishing, ;from their i 
 But some had been trodden on, others were lost. Only aboi 
 the original number could be found, and this accident appea 
 her to be mfinitely sad, and to foretell still further unhappin( 
 
 The drive to the asylum in the cab was also very piteous. S 
 with nervousness and lassitude, Kate cried and wrung her '. 
 Dick sat next her, huge, kind, and indifferent, even as the 
 itself. 
 
 " But you will come and see me ? You promise me that y( 
 come — that you will come very often ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear, I'll come two or three times a week ; but I hoj 
 you'll be well soon — very soon." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ?HB hope Dick thus kindly expressed, that his wife would soon be 
 rell enough to_ return to him, was, of course, neither naore nor less 
 han a lie — a simple and unadulterated untruth. Fondly he looked 
 ipon the house in Bloomsbury as the panacea of all his woes, and 
 ervidly he prayed that she would never cross its doors again. But 
 a this he was quickly and cruelly disappointed. Before two days 
 fere over — two days that appeared to him heaven, so blissful was 
 heir calm-^he received a letter from the asylum, saying that Mrs. 
 jennox was not in the least insane, and would have to be dis- 
 harged. The letter slipped from him, his head sank on his arm, 
 nd he remained prostrate, stunned, dizzy, like one who has received 
 , violent blow on the head. Very soon after, Kate entej-ed the 
 oom. He raised his head and looked at her. Interpreting that 
 Dok at once, she said, and in an intonation of voice that was full of 
 upreme sorrow — 
 
 " Well, Dick, I see you are very sorry to have me back again." 
 
 The simple words took an awful importance in the situation. It 
 iras like the ciy of the chorus in the Greek tragedy against the 
 aystery and inflexibility of fate. 
 
 Our lives run in grooves ; we get into one and we follow it out to 
 he end. And the man answered just what might have been ex- 
 lected he would have answered. . ' 
 
 " I don't know that I am, dear ; if you would not give way to 
 hose fits of jealousy we might get on all right." 
 
 For the word drunkenness, jealousy was as usual substituted. 
 Lnd why ? Because he could not bring himself to say anything 
 hat would hurt her feelings. 
 
 Kate threw herself on her knees ; she took his hand in hers, she 
 saned her face against his, and in brief, passionate phrases she pro- 
 lised everything she could for the moment think of. She vowed 
 bove all that she never would touch a drop of gin again. Oh ! it 
 ras that that was the ruin of her. Had it not been for that, they 
 light be happy now as they were long ago at Blackpool, and at 
 lanchester where their child was born. Oh, that poor child ! 
 lad it lived, had it only lived, she would not be what she was now. 
 "es, yes, it was better to admit the truth ; she had neglected it, 
 nd it was drink and those love stories that had made her a bad 
 lother, as she was now a bad wife. She was not afraid, although 
 
 L 
 
322 A MUMMEK'S WIFE. 
 
 it nearly broke her heart to confess these things ; but, i 
 proverb said, " Better late than never," and she was determi 
 turn over a new leaf. Never again would she touch a drop c 
 Ah ! that was the principal thing. He did not believe her ? 
 she did not blame him, for she had broken her promise so 
 times ; but this time was not like the other times, and he mi 
 would be cruel of him not to believe her. Yes, yes, she had 
 fearfully wicked from the very first ; but there was no use t 
 of that, and she was determined to prove herself a good w: 
 least to one man. The other she didn't love, but Dick sh 
 Yes, with a love that was more than anything she could expli 
 
 Dick's face expressed that on this point he had no doubt 
 ever. Indeed, it was the truth of her statement that he seer 
 deplore, and reverting to his original idea he said : — 
 
 "Yes, my dear, but those jealous fits are terrible. You k 
 must look after my business, and by going down to the theati 
 kicking up a row with me about Mrs. Forest you are only 1 
 the bread out of my mouth." 
 
 "I knoW) Dick, I know," cried Kate passionately ; "but '. 
 mise you that I never will again. You may go where you p 
 and do what you please, I will never say a word to you ags 
 know it is no use." 
 
 In his heart of hearts Dick did not believe she would ever 
 be able to control her temper, but knowing well that the expr 
 of such an opinion would only excite her, he, although unal 
 persuade himself that there was much hope of peace for him i 
 future,' as a jyreary packman his pack, as a captured convi 
 chains, took up the now almost unbearable fetters of a dri 
 married life, resigned to trudge a little farther along the roa( 
 extended its apparently endless and horrible length before hii 
 
 Nevertheless, for many days Kate tried hard to keep her proi 
 for more than a fortnight she was as nice and as quiet as a 
 might wish a woman to be, until even sceptical Dick began t 
 himself with false hopes of reformation. One evening, howe\ 
 noticed that she looked more sullen than usual, that her 
 dropped as if — the thought struck him hard — she had been ( 
 ing. When once women give way there is no stopping them 
 then followed a whole month of a life so wild that it can oi 
 compared to a lurid and fearful storm of wind and lightning, 
 a single day passed without some scene of violence. On one 
 sion she ran at him with a knife, and he had only just tii 
 ward off the blow. The house rang with shrieks and 
 of aU sorts. They were driven from one lodging house t 
 other. Everything was pawned— trousers, dresses, hats, 
 shoes, her own as well as his. It was at once comic and ] 
 to see Dick, with one of the tails of his coat lost in a i 
 mage, talking at three o'clock in the morning to the dispass 
 policeman, whilst from the top windows the high treble voio 
 woman disturbed the sullen tranquillity of the London 
 
There were times, of course, between these paroxysms of fury when 
 die grew repentant and begged of her husband to forgive her. 
 But there was no help for her now. The latent germ of hysteria I 
 that the life of quietude and work that she had led with Ralph Ede 
 had kept in check, the life of excitement and dissipation she had led / 
 with Dick Lennox had developed, until the disease had culminated; 
 in drink, and recovery seemed hopeless. Latterly, too, great 
 physical changes had been wrought in her. Her plump, pigeon- 
 like figure had grown thin and almost angular. She suffered at 
 times terribly from want of rest, and towards morning would awake 
 screaming from the most terrible nightmares. Food she could not 
 touch except after drink, and her nervous system was terribly 
 deranged ; it was as if a quantity of bell-wires had got so entangled 
 and twisted that to touch them was impossible without awakening 
 a jangle, and always the peal came from where you least expected 
 it. But amid the ever-increasing number of exciting influences, 
 Dick remained the most ruinous ; now even to see him was 
 sufficient to set her trembling with passion, or, to speak more cor- 
 rectly, acute nervous excitement. The very love she bore for the 
 man was, it seemed, the cause of the disease — as it were, the 
 battery whence all these terribly hysterical storms proceeded. In 
 her sober moments, or rather in her calm moments — for now 
 passion and drunkenness had become so inextricably mixed that it 
 was impossible to distinguish where one began and the other ended 
 — no one deplored more than she did the utter ungovemableness 
 of her temper ; but of resistance to it she could offer no more 
 than a leaf does to the blast that bears it away. And yet Dick con- 
 tinued with her — continued to allow himself to be beaten, scratched, 
 torn to pieces almost as he would be by a wUd beast. Human 
 nature can habituate itself even to pain, and it was so with him. 
 He knew that his present life was as a Nessus shirt on his back, and 
 yet he couldn't make up his mind to have done with it. In the 
 first place, he pitied his wife ; in the second, he did not know how 
 to leave her ; and it was not until after another row with Kate for 
 having been down to the theatre that he summoned up courage to 
 walk out of the house with a fixed determination never again to 
 return. Kate at the time was too tipsy to pay much attention to 
 the announcement he made to her as he left the room. Besides, 
 " Wolf 1 " had been cried so often that it had now lost its terror in 
 her ears, and it was not until next day that she began to experience 
 any very certain fear that Dick and she had at last parted for ever. 
 But when, with a clammy, thirsty mouth, she sat rooking -herself 
 wearily, and the long idleness of the morning hours became' haunted 
 with irritating remembrances of her shameful conduct, of the cruel 
 and abominable life she Ted the man she loved, that the black gulf 
 of eternal separation became, as it were, etched upon her mind ; 
 and she heard the cold depths reverberating with vain words and 
 foolish prayers. Then her thin hands trembled on her black dress, 
 and waves of shivering passed over her. Involuntarily she thought 
 
324 A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 
 
 that a little brandy might give her strength, and as soon hated her- 
 self for the thought. It was brandy that had brought her to this. 
 She would never touch it again. But Dick had not left her for 
 ever ; he would come back to her ; she could not live without liim. 
 It was terrible ! She would go to him, and on her knees beg his 
 pardon for all she had done. He would forgive her; he must 
 forgive her. Such were the fugitive thoughts that flashed through 
 Kate's mind as sh& hurried to and fro, seeking for her bonnet and 
 shawl. She would go down to the theatre and find him; there 
 -she would be sure to hear news of him, she said, as she strove 
 to brush away the mist tliat obscured her eyes. She could see 
 nothing ; things seemed to change their places, and she was forced 
 to cling to any piece of furniture within reach, so terrible were the 
 palpitations of her heart. These at last, however, subsided, and 
 by walking very slowly she contrived to reach the stage-door of the 
 Opera Comique, feeling very weak and ill. 
 
 " Is Mr. Lennox in ? " she asked, at the same time trying to look 
 conciliatingly at the hard-faced hall-keeper. 
 
 ' ' No, ma'am, he ain't," was the reply. ^ 
 
 " Who attended the rehearsal to-day, then ? " 
 
 "There was no rehearsal to-day, ma'am — leastways, Mr. Lennox 
 dismissed the rehearsal at half -past twelve. " 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 " Ah ! that I cannot tell you." 
 
 "Could you tell me where Mr. Lennox would be likely to befound!" 
 
 " Indeed I could not, ma'am ; I believe he's gone into the 
 country." 
 
 " Gone into the country ! " echoed Kate. 
 
 " But may I ask, ma'am, if you be Mrs. Lennox ? because if you 
 be, Mr. Lennox left a letter to be given to you in case you called." 
 
 Her eyes brightened at the idea of a letter. To know the worst 
 would be better than a horrible uncertainty, and she said eagerly— 
 
 "Yes, I am Mrs. Lennox ; give me the letter." 
 
 The hall-keeper handed it to her, and she walked out of the 
 narrow passage into the street, so as to be free from observation. 
 With anxious fingers she tore open the ill-shapen, commerci£il-look- 
 ing envelope, and read, 
 
 " Mt deab Kate, — 
 
 "It must be now as clear to you as it is to me that it is 
 quite impossible for us to go on living together. There is no use in 
 our again discussing the whys and the wherefores ; we had much 
 better accept the facts of the case in silence, and mutually save ' 
 each other the pain of trying to alter what cannot be altered. 
 
 " I have arranged to allow you two pounds a week. This sum 
 will be paid to you every Saturday, by applying to Messrs. Jackson 
 & Co., Solicitors, Arundel Street, Strand. 
 
 " Yours very affectionately, 
 
 "RicHABD Lennox." 
 
A MUMMER'S 'WIFE. 325 
 
 Mechanically Kate repeated the last words, and she walked 
 gloomily through the glare of the day. A terrible sense of loneli- 
 ness, of desolation, was created in her heart. For her the world 
 seemed to have ended, and she saw the streets and passers-by with 
 the same vague, irresponsible gaze as a solitary figure would the uni- 
 versal ruin caused by an earthquake. Enwrapped in a winding-sheet 
 of sorrow, she seemed to be walking alone in a dark dream. She had 
 no friends, no occupation, no interest of any kind in life. Every- 
 thing had slipped from her, and she shivered with a sense of 
 nakedness, of moral destitution. Nothing was left to her, and yet 
 she f§lt, she lived, she was conscious. Oh yes, horribly conscious. 
 And that was the worst ; and she asked herself why she could not 
 pass out of sight, out of hearing and feeling of all the crying misery 
 with which she was surrounded. 
 
 For the moment hope had deserted her. She did not think of 
 being reconciled to her husband, but abandoned herself feebly to 
 the presentiment that she would never see him again. No thought 
 was figurate or determinate, and in a state of emotivQ somnam- 
 bulism she walked through the crowds. Suddenly she was startled 
 from her dreams by hearing a voice calling after her, "Kate! 
 Kate ! — Mrs. Lennox ! " 
 
 It was Montgomery. 
 
 " I am so glad to have met you — so glad, indeed, for we have 
 not seen much of each other. I don't know 'how it was, but some- 
 how it seemed to me that Dick did not want me to go and see you. 
 I never could make out why, for he couldn't have been jealous of 
 me," he added a little bitterly. " But perhaps you have not heard 
 that it is all up as regards my piece at the Opera Comique," he con- 
 tinued, not noticing Kate's dejection in his excitement. 
 
 " No, I haven't heard," she answered mechanically. 
 
 "It doesn't matter much, though, for I have just been down 
 to the Gaiety, and pretty well settled that it is to be done in 
 Manchester, at the Prince's ; so you see I don't let the grass 
 grow under my feet, for my row with Mrs. Forest only oc- 
 curred this morning. But what's the matter, Kate ? what has 
 happened ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing. Tell me about Mrs. Forest first ; I 
 want to know." 
 
 " Well, it is the funniest thing you ever heard in your life : but 
 you won't tell Dick, because he forbade me ever to speak to you 
 about Mrs. Forest---not that there is anything but business be- 
 tween them ; that I swear to you. But do tell me, Kate, what is 
 the matter ? I never saw you look so sad in my life. Have you 
 had any bad news 1 " 
 
 " No, no. Tell me about Mrs. Forest and your piece ; I want 
 to hear," she exclaimed excitedly. 
 
 "Well, this is it," said Montgomery, who saw in a glance that 
 she was not to be contradicted, and that he had better get on with 
 his story. " In the first place, you know that the old creature has 
 
826 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 gone in for writing librettos herself, and has finished one 
 Buddhism. You never saw such a thing in your life ; the o 
 chorus is fifty lines long, and she won't cut one ; but I'll ti 
 about that after. Well, I was to get one hundred for settii 
 blessed production to music, and it was to follow my own 
 which was in rehearsal. Well, like a great fool, I was exp] 
 to Dubois the bosh I was writing by the yard for this infernal 
 of hers. I couldn't help it; she wouldn't take advice on any 
 She has written the song of the Sun-god in hexameters. I 
 know what hexameters are, but I would as soon set Brads 
 leaving St. Pancras nine twenty-five, arriving at — ha ! ha ! 
 with a puff, puff accompaniment on the trombone." 
 
 " For goodness sake don't torture me ; go on with the i 
 cried Kate. 
 
 " Well, I was explaining all this," said Montgomery, sui 
 growing serious, "when out she darted from behind the othei 
 I never knew she was there. She called me a thief, and sa 
 would not have me another five minutes in her theatre. ] 
 the Italian composer, was sent for. I was shoved out, ba 
 baggage, and there will be no more rehearsals tiU the new ni 
 ready. That's all." 
 
 " I am very sorry for you — very sorry," said Kate very q 
 and she raised her hand to brush away a tear. 
 
 "Oh, I don't care ; I'd sooner have the piece done in Manoj 
 Of course it is a bore, losing a hundred pounds. But, oh, Ka 
 tell me what's the matter ; you know you can confide in m« 
 know I am your friend." 
 
 At these kind words the cold deadly grief that encircled 
 heart like a band of steel melted, and she wept profusely, 
 ing her arm into his, Montgomery pleaded and begged to 1 
 the reason of these tears ; but she could make no answer, anc 
 a passionate vesture, she pressed Dick's letter into his han(3 
 read it at a glance, and then hesitated, unable to make up hi 
 as to what he should do. • No words seemed to him adequate ' 
 with to console her, and she was sobbing so bitterly that 
 beginning to attract attention in the streets. They wall 
 without speaking for a few yards, Kate leaning upon Montg 
 until a hackney coachman, guessing that something was ' 
 signed to them with his whip. 
 
 " Where are you living, dear 1 " 
 
 Kate told him with some difficulty, and having direcfa 
 driver, he lapsed again into considering what course he 
 adopt. He was leaving London for Manchester by the six 
 express. To pjit off the journey was impossible ; Dick ha 
 mised to meet him there. It was now three o'clock. I 
 therefore, ^ree hours to spend with Kate — with the woman 
 he had loved steadfastly throughout a loveless life. He 1 
 word of blame for Dick ; he had heard stories that had ma 
 blood run cold ; and yet, and even now, knowing her faults 
 
A MTJMMEK'S WIFE. 327- 
 
 Jid, had it been possible, he would have opened his arms, and cry- 
 ing through the fervour of years of waiting, said to her, "Yes, I 
 «rill believe in you ; believe in me and you shall be happy." There 
 had never been a secret between them ; their souls had been for 
 ever as if in communication ; and the love, unacknowledged in 
 words, had long been as sunlight and moonlight, lighting the spaces 
 of their dream-life. To the woman it had been as a distant star 
 whose pale light was in hours of vexation a presage of quiet- 
 ude; to the man it seemed as a far Elysium radiant with sweet | 
 longing, large hopes that waxed but never waned, and where the I 
 sweet breezes of eternal f elicitude blew in musical cadence. ■ ' 
 
 And yet he was deceived in nothing. He knew now as he had 
 known before, that although this dream might haunt him for ever, 
 lie should never hold it in his arms nor press it to his lips ; and in 
 the midst of this surging tide of misery there arose a desire that, 
 glad in its own anguish, bade him increase the bitterness of these 
 last hours by making a confession of his suffering ; — and, exulting 
 savagely in the martyrdom he was preparing for himself, he said — 
 
 "You know, Kate — I know you must know — ^you must have 
 guessed that I care for you. I -may as well tell you the truth now 
 — ^you are the only woman I ever loved." 
 
 " Yes, " she said, ' ' I always thought you cared for me. You have 
 been very kind — oh ! very kind, and I often think of it. Ah ! every- 
 body has, all my life long, been very good to me ; it is I alone who 
 am to blame, who am in fault. I have, 1 know I have, been very 
 wicked, and I don't know why. I did not mean it ; I know I didn't, 
 Eor I am not at heart a wicked woman. I suppose things must have 
 gone against me ; that's about all." 
 
 Montgomery pushed his glasses higher on his nose ; his face 
 grew ludicrous in its expression of sorrow ; but it mattered little 
 now whether he were handsome or ugly. After a long silence, he 
 said : 
 
 " I have of ten thought that had you met me before you knew 
 Dick, things might have been different. We should have got on 
 better, although you might never have loved me so well." 
 
 Kate raised her eyes, and she said : 
 
 " No one will ever know how 1 have loved, how I still love that 
 man. Oftentimes I think that had I loved him less I should have 
 been a better wife. He loved me, I think, but it was not the love I 
 ireamed of. Like you, I was always sentimental, and Dick never 
 ;ared for that sort of thing." 
 
 " I think I should have understood you better, " said Montgomery ; 
 md the conversation came to a pause. A vision of the life of devo- 
 lion spent at the feet of an ideal lover, that life of sacrifice and ten- 
 lemess which had been her dream, and which she had so utterly 
 'ailed to attain, again rose up to tantalize her like a glittering mir- 
 ige ; and she could not help wondering whether, if she had chosen 
 :his other man, she would have realised this beautiful, this wonder- 
 'ul might-have-been. 
 
S28 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " But I suppose you will make it up with Dick," said Montgomery 
 somewhat harshly. 
 
 Kate awoke from her reverie with a start, and answered sorrow- 
 fully that she did not know, that she was afraid Dick would never 
 forgive her again. 
 
 " I do not remember if I told you that I am going to see him in 
 Manchester ; he promised to go up there to make some arrangements 
 about my piece." 
 
 " No, you did not tell me." 
 
 " Well, I will speak to him. I will tell him I have seen yoil. I 
 fancy I shall be able to make it all right,'' he added, with a feeble 
 smile. 
 
 " Oh ! how good you are — how good you are," cried Kate, clasp- 
 ing her hands. " If he will only forgive me once again, I'll promise, 
 I'll swear to him never to — to — " 
 
 Here B^te stopped abashed, and burying her face in her hands, 
 she wept bitterly. The tenderness, the melancholy serenity of their 
 interview, had somehow suddenly come to an end. Each was too 
 much occupied with his or her thoughts to talk much, and the 
 effort to find phrases grew more and more irritating. Both were 
 very sad, and although they sighed when the clock struck the hour 
 of farewell, they felt that to pass from one pain to another was in 
 itself an assuagement. Kiite accompanied Montgomery to tlie sta- 
 tion. He seemed to her to be out of temper ; she to him to be far- 
 ther away than ever. The explanation that had taken place between 
 them, had, if not broken, at least altered the old bonds of sympathy, 
 without creating new ones ; and they were discontented, even like 
 children who remember for the first time that to-day is not 
 yesterday. 
 
 They felt lonely watching the parallel lines of platforms ; and 
 when Montgomery waved his hand for the last time, and the train 
 rolled into the luminous arch of sky that lay beyond the glass roof- 
 ing, Kate turned away overpowered by grief and cruel recollections. 
 When she got home, the solitude of her room became unbearable ; 
 she wanted someone to see, someone to console her. She had a few 
 shillings in her pocket, but she remembered her resolutions, and for 
 some time resented the imperious clutch of the temptation. But 
 tlie sorrow that hung about her, that penetrated like a corrosive acid 
 into the very marrow of her bones, grew momentarily more burning, 
 more unendurable. Twenty times she tried to wrench it out of 
 her heart. The landlady brought her up some tea : she could not 
 drink it: it tasted like soapsuds in her mouth. Then, knowing 
 well what the results would be, she resolved to go out for 
 a walk. 
 
 Next day she was ill, and, to pull herself together, it was necessary 
 to have a drink. It would not do to look too great a sight in the 
 solicitor's office where Dick had told her in his letter to go to get her 
 money. There she found not two, but five, pounds awaiting her, and 
 this enabled her to kcup up a state of semi-intoxication until the end of 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. S2S 
 
 the week. She at last woke up almost speecliless, suflFering terribly 
 from palpitation of the heart. Fortunately, the bell-rope was at 
 hand. Constant waves of shivering passed over her, and when the 
 landlady came to her bedside, she nearly lost her balance and fell 
 to the ground, so strenuously did Kate lean and cling to her for 
 support. The woman was frightened at the' appearance her lodger 
 presented. The large eyes were hollow and lustreless, and the 
 plump olive complexion was now thin and dragged, and full of dirty 
 yellow tints. After gasping painfully for some moments, Kate 
 muttered : 
 
 "Oh, oh ! I am afraid I am dying. I am very ill." 
 
 "But what is the matter ? " 
 
 " Oh, these palpitations ! they— they are dreadful ! And I have 
 a pain in my side." 
 
 " Would you like to see the doctor ? " 
 
 "I don't know ; perhaps it might be as well." 
 
 " Shall I send at once, then ? " 
 
 " No, not at once. What do you think ? Suppose you pour me 
 out a little brandy and water ; and I'll see how I am in the course 
 of the day." 
 
 The woman did as she was desired ; and when the drink had taken 
 its effect, Kate declared she felt better. If it were not for the pain 
 in her side and shoulder she'd be all right. 
 
 The landlady looked a little incredulous ; but her lodger had only 
 been with her a fortnight, and so carefully had the brandy been 
 hidden, and the inebriety concealed, that although she had her 
 doubts, she was not yet satisfied that Kate was an habitual drunkard. 
 Certainly, the appearances were against Mrs. Lennox ; but as 
 regards the brandy bottle, she had watched it very carefully, and 
 was convinced that scarcely more than sixpenny worth of liquor 
 went out of it daily. The good woman did not know how it was 
 replenished from another bottle that came sometimesi from under the 
 mattress, sometimes out of the chimney. And the-disappearance of 
 the husband was very satisfactorily accounted for by the announce- 
 ment that he had gone to Manchester to produce a new piece. Be- 
 sides, Mrs. Lennox was a very nice person, and it was a pleasure to 
 attend to her, and during the course of the afternoon Mrs. White, 
 the landlady, called several times at the second floor to inquire after 
 her lodger's health. 
 
 But there was no change for the better. Looking the picture of 
 wretchedness, Kate lay back in her chair, declaring in low moans 
 that she never felt so ill in her life — ^that the pain in her side was 
 killing her. At first, Mrs. White seemed inclined to make light of 
 all fias complaining, but towards evening she began to grow alarmed, 
 and strenuously urged that the doctor should be sent for. 
 
 "I assure you, ma'am," she said, "it is always better to see a doctor. 
 The money is never thrown away ; for even if there's nothing serious 
 the matter, it eases one's mind to be told so." 
 
 Kate was generally easy to persuade, but fearing that her secret 
 
330 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 drinking would be discovered, she declined for a long time t< 
 medical advice. At last, however, she was obliged to give wa 
 the die having been cast, she commenced to think how she 
 conceal part of the truth. Something of the coquetry of the e 
 returned to her, and, getting up from her chair, she went 
 to the glass to examine herself. She was horrified at the ai 
 ance she presented, and as she brushed back her hair, she sai( 
 sorrowfully : 
 
 " I am a complete wreck. I can't think what's the matte 
 me, and I have lost alt my hair. Tou have no idea, Mrs. Wh 
 the beautiful hair I used to have ; it used to faU in armfuls o\ 
 shoulders ; now, it is no more than a wisp." 
 
 " I think you have a great deal yet," retunied Mrs. Whit 
 wishing to discourage her. 
 
 " And how yellow I am, too ! " 
 
 To this Mrs. Wbite mumbled something that was inaudibl( 
 Kate thought suddenly of her rouge-pot and hare's-foot. 
 " make-up," and all her little souvenirs of Dick, lay securely p 
 away in an old band-box. 
 
 " Mrs. "White," she said, " might I ask you to get me a jug i 
 water!" 
 
 When the woman left the room, everything was spread hur 
 over the toUct-table. To see her, one would have tiiought th 
 caU-boy had knocked at the door for the second time. A thin 
 ing of cold cream was passed over the face and neck ; the 
 powder-puff changed what was yellow into white, and the hare' 
 gave a sweet bloom to the cheeks. The -pencil was not nece 
 her eyebrows being by nature dark and well-defined. Then a 
 appeared again into the band-box, a drain was taken out of the 
 whilst she listened to steps on the stairs, and she had just tii 
 get back to her chair when the doctor entered. She felt quitf 
 pared to receive him. Mrs. White, who had come up at the 
 time, looked uneasily around ; and, after hesitating about the 
 fines of the room, she put the water-jug on the rosewood cai 
 and said — 
 
 " I think I'll leave you alune with the doctor, ma'am ; if you 
 me you'll ring." 
 
 Mr. Hooper was a short, stout man, with a large bald fore 
 and long black hair ; his small eyes were watchftil as a ferret's 
 his fat chubby hands were constantly laid on his knee-caps. 
 
 " I met Mrs. White's servant in the street," he said, looki 
 Kate as if he were trying to read through the rouge on her 
 "so I came at once. Mrs. White, with whom I was spe 
 downstairs, tells me that you are suffering from a pain in your 
 
 "Yes, doctor, on the right side ; and I have not been ft 
 very well lately.'' 
 
 " Is your appetite good ? Will you let me feel your pulse ? ' 
 
 "No, I have scarcely any appetite at aU— particularly i 
 morning. I can't touch anything for breakfast." 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 331 
 
 " Don't you care to drink anything ? Aren't you thirsty ? " 
 
 Kate would have liked to have told a lie, but fearing that she 
 might endanger her life by doing so, she answered, 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I am constantly very thirsty." 
 
 " Especially at night-time 2 " 
 
 It was irritating to have your life thus read ; and Kate felt angry 
 when she saw this dispassionate man watching the brandy-bottle, 
 which she had forgotten to put away. 
 
 " Do you ever find it necessary to take any stimulant 1 ' 
 
 Grasping at the word " necessary," she replied, 
 
 " Yes, doctor ; my life isn't a very happy one, and I often feel so 
 low, so depressed as it were, that if I didn't take a little -something 
 to keep me up I think I should do away with myself." 
 
 " Your husband is an actor, I believe ? " 
 
 "Yes ; but he's at present up in Manchester, producing a new 
 piece. I am on the stage too. I have been playing a round of 
 leading parts in the provinces, but since I have been in London I 
 have been out of an engagement." 
 
 " I just asked you because I noticed you use a little powder, you 
 know, on the face. Of course, I can't judge at present what your 
 complexion is ; but have you noticed any yellowness about the skin 
 lately ? " 
 
 The first instinct of a woman who drinks is to conceal her vice, 
 : and although she was talking to a doctor, Kate was again conscious 
 of a feeling of resentment against the merciless eyes which saw 
 through all the secrets of her life. But, cowed, as it were, by the 
 certitude expressed by the doctor's looks and word^, she strove to 
 equivocate, and answered humbly that she had noticed that her 
 skin was not looking as clear as it used to. Dr. Hooper then ques- 
 tioned her further. He asked if she sufiFered from a sense of un- 
 comfortable tension, fulness, weight, especially after meals ; if she 
 felt any pain in her right shoulder ? and she had to confess that he 
 was right in all his surmises. 
 
 " Do tell me, doctor, what is the matter with jpe ? I would 
 really, I assure you, much sooner know the worst." 
 
 But the doctor did not seem inclined to be communicative, and 
 he merely mumbled, in reply to her question, something to the 
 eflfect that the liver was out of order. 
 
 "I will send you over some medicine this evening," he said, 
 " and if you do not feel better to-morrow send round for me, and 
 do not attempt to- get up. I think," he added, as he took up his 
 hat to go, " I shall be able to put you all right. But you must 
 follow my instructions ; you must not frighten yoursalf, and take as 
 little of that stimulant as you can help." 
 
 Kate answered that it was not her custom to take too much, and 
 she tried to look surprised at the warning. _ She nevertheless 
 derived a good deal of comfort from the doctor's visit, and during 
 the course of the evening succeeded in persuading herself that her 
 fears of the morning were ill-founded, and, putting the medicine 
 
332 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 that was sent her away for the present, she helped herself Ut 
 from a bottle that was drawn through a slit out in the carpet, 
 fact of having a long letter to write to Dick to explain her co 
 made it quite necessary that she should take something to kee 
 up, and sitting in her lonely room, she drank on steadily unti 
 night, until she could only just drag her clothes from her bac 
 throw herself stupidly into bed. There she passed a fea 
 night — a night f uU of livid-hued nightmares, sudden and 
 horrors, from which she awoke shivering, and suffering 
 terrible palpitations of the heart. The silence of the house 
 her with terrors, cold and obtuse as the dreams from which sh 
 awakened. Strength to scream for help she had none ; and i 
 ing she was going to die, she sought for relief and oonsdlati 
 the bottle that lay hidden under the carpet. When the drink 
 effect upon her she broke out into a profuse perspiration, an 
 managed to get a little sleep ; but when her breakfast was br 
 up about eleven o'clock in the morning, so Ul did she seem thi 
 servant, fearing she was going to drop down dead, begged 
 allowed to fetch the doctor. Rejecting, however, aU offe 
 assistance, Kate lay moaning in an arm-chair, unable even to 
 the cup of tea that the maid pressed upon her. She consent 
 take some of the medicines that had been ordered her, but 
 ever good they might have produced was negatived by the coi 
 nip-drinking she kept up during the afternoon. The next da 
 was very iU indeed, and Mrs. White, greatly alarmed, insist* 
 sending for Dr. Hooper. 
 
 He did hot seem astonished at the change in his patient. C 
 and quietly he watched for some moments in silence. 
 
 The bed had window-curtains of a red and antiquated mat 
 and these contrasted with the paleness of the sheets wherein 
 lay, tossing feverishly. Most of the " make-up " had been ri 
 away from her face ; arid through patches of red and whit 
 yellow skin started like blisters. She was slightly delirious 
 when the doctor took her hand to feel her pulse, gazing ai 
 with her big staring eyes, she spoke volubly and excitedly. 
 
 " Oh ! I am so glad you have come, for I wanted to speak ti 
 about my husband. I think I told you that he had gone to 
 Chester to produce a new piece. I don't know if I led you to 
 pose that he had deserted me, but if I did I was wrong to o 
 for he has done nothing of the kind. It is true that we aren't 
 happy together, but I daresay that is my fault. I never w 
 know, as good a wife to him as I had intended to be ; but the 
 made me jealous and sometimes I was mad. Yes, I think I 
 have been mad to have spoken to him in the way I did. Anj 
 it doesn't matter now, does it, doctor ? But T don't know w! 
 am saying. Still, you won't mention that I have told you anyt 
 It is as likely as not that he will forgive me, just as he did be 
 and we may yet be as happy as we were at Blackpool. You ' 
 tell him, will you, doctor '( " 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 333 
 
 "No, no, I will not," said Dr. Hooper, quieifly and firmly. "But 
 you mustn't talk as much as you do ; if you want to see your hus- 
 band, you must get well first." 
 
 " Oh, yea ! I must get well ; but tell me, doctor, how long will 
 thattake?" ^ 
 
 " Not very long, if you will keep quiet and do what I tell you. 
 I want you to teU me, how is the pain in your side ? " 
 
 " Very bad ; far worse than when 1 saw you last. I feel it now 
 in my right shoulder as well. " 
 
 " But your side — is it sore when you touch it ? Will you let me 
 feel?" 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, he passed his hand under the sheet. 
 
 " Is it there that it pains you 'i " 
 
 "Yea, yes. Oh ! you are hurting me." 
 
 Then the doctor walked aside with the landlady, who had been 
 watching the examination of the patient with anxious eye|. She 
 said : 
 
 "Do you think it is anything very dangerous? Is it contagious ? 
 Had I better send her to the hospit^ ? " 
 
 "No, I should scarcely think it worth while doing that; she 
 will be well in a week, that is to say if she is properly looked after. 
 She is suffering from acute congestion of the liver, brought on by — " 
 
 " By drink," said Mrs. White. " I suspected as much." 
 
 " You have too much to do, Mrs. White, with all your children, 
 to give up your time to nursing her ; I shall send someone round 
 as soon as possible, but, in the meantime, will you see that her 
 diet is regulated to half a cup of beef-tea every hour or so. If she 
 complains of thirst, let her have some milk to drink, and you may 
 mix a little brandy with it. To-night I shall send round a sleeping 
 draught." 
 
 " You're sure, doctor, there is nothing catching, for you know, 
 that with all my children in the house — " 
 
 " You need not be alarmed, Mrs. White." 
 
 " But do you think, doctor, it will be an expensive illness 1 for 
 I know very little about her circumstances." 
 
 "I expect she'll be all right in a week or ten days, but what I 
 fear for is her future. I've had a good deal of experience in such 
 matters, and I have never known a case of a woman who cured 
 herself of the vice of intemperance. A man sometimes, a woman 
 never." 
 
 The landlady sighed and referred to all she had gone through 
 during poor Mr. White's lifetime ; the doctor spoke confidingly of 
 a lady who was at present under his charge ; and, apparently over- 
 come with pity for suffering humanity, they descended the staircase 
 together. On the doorstep the conversation was continued. 
 
 "Very well, then, 'doctor, I will take your advice ; but at the 
 end of a week or so, when she is quite recovered, I shall tell her 
 that I have let her rooms. For, as you say, a woman rarely Cures 
 herself, and before the children the example would be dreadful." 
 
334 A MUMMER'S WIFB. 
 
 " 1 expect to see her on her feet in about that time, then you 
 do as you please. I shall call to-morrow." 
 
 Next day the professional nurse took her place by the bedi 
 The sinapism which the doctor ordered was applied to the he] 
 region, and a small dose of calomel was administered. 
 
 Under this treatment she improved rapidly ; but unfortunai 
 as her health returned her taste for drink increased in a like 
 portion. Indeed, it was almost impossible to keep her from it, 
 on one occasion she tried very cunningly to outwit the nurse, 
 had fallen asleep in her chair. Waiting patiently until the won 
 snoring had become sufficiently regular to warrant the possib 
 of a successful attempt being made on the brandy-bottle, ] 
 slipped noiselessly out of bed. The unseen nightlight cast a 
 glow over the convex side of the basin, without, however, dist 
 ing the bare darkness of the wall. Kate knew that all the bo 
 stood in a line upon the chest of drawers, but it was difficult to 
 tinguish' one from the other, and the jingling she made as 
 fumbled gmid them awoke the nurse, who divining at once i 
 was happening, arose quickly from her chair and advancing raj 
 towards her, said : 
 
 " No, ma'am, I really can't allow it ; it is against the doc 
 orders." 
 
 " I'm not going to die of thirst to please any doctor. I was 
 going to take a little mUk. I suppose there is no harm in that 
 
 "Not the least, ma'am, and if you had called me you should '. 
 had it." 
 
 It was owing to this fortuitous intervention, when Dr. Ho 
 called a couple of days after to see his patient, that he was abl 
 certify to a remarkable change for the better in her. All the 
 tressing symptoms had disappeared ; the pain in the side had 
 away ; the complexion was clearer. He therefore tliought liir 
 justified in ordering for her lunch a little fish and some 1 
 brandy-and-water ; and to Kate, who had not eaten any solid 
 for several days, this first meal took the importance of a verj 
 ceptional event. Sitting by her bedside Dr. Hooper spoke to 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Lennox," he said, " I want to give you a woi 
 warning. I have seen you through what I must specUy as a se 
 illness ; dangerous I will not call it, although I might do sc 
 were to look into the future and anticipate the developmeni 
 disease will most certainly take, unless, indeed, you will be gi 
 by me, and make a vow against all intoxicating liquors." 
 
 At this direct allusion to her vice Kate stopped eating, and 
 ing down the fork looked at the doctor. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Lennox, you must not be angry," he continue 
 his kind way. " I am speaking to you in my capacity as a me 
 man, and I must warn you against the continuous nip drii 
 which, of course, I can see you are in the habit of indul^in 
 and which was the cause of the illness from which you are rec 
 ing. I will not harrow your feelings by referring to all the 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 33£ 
 
 that have come under my notice where shame, disgrace, ruin, and 
 death were the result of that one melancholy failing — drink." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! " cried Kate, broken-hearted, " if you only knew how 
 unhappy I have been, how miserable I am, you would not speak to 
 me BO. I have my failing it is true, but I am driven to it. I love 
 my husband better than anything in the world, and I see him 
 mixed up always with a lot of girls at the theatres, and it sends me 
 mad, and then I go to drink so as to forget. " 
 
 " We have all got our troubles : but it does not relieve us of the 
 burden, it only makes us forget it for a short time, and then, when 
 consciousness returns to us, we only remember it aU the more 
 bitterly. No, Mrs. Lennox, take my advice. In a few days, when 
 you are well, go to your husband, demand his forgiveness, and re- 
 solve then never to touch spirits again." 
 
 " It is very good of you to speak to me in this way," said Kate, 
 tearfully, " and I will take your advice. The very first day that I 
 am strong enough to walk down to the Strand I will go and see my 
 husband, and if he will give me another trial, he will not, I swear 
 to you, have cause to repent it. Oh ! " she continued, " you don't 
 know how good he has been to me, how he has borne with me. If 
 it hadn't been that he tried my temper by flirting with other women 
 we might have been happy now." 
 
 Then, as Kate proceeded to speak of her trials and temptations, 
 she grew more and more excited and hysterical, until the doctor, 
 fearing that she would bring on a relapse, was torced to plead an 
 engagement and wish her good-bye. 
 
 As he left the room she cried after him, " The first day I am well 
 enough to go out I wUl go and see my husband." 
 
286 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Thb next few days passed like dreams. Kate's soul, tensi 
 the longing for reconciliation, floated at ease over the sordid m 
 that lay within and without her, and enraptured with ezpec' 
 she lived in a beautiful paradise of hope. 
 
 So certain did she feel of being able to cross out, with firm ej 
 the last few years of her life, that her mind was scarcely cl 
 by a doubt of the possibility of his declining to forgive her 
 he might even refuse to see her. Charming the old days s 
 to her, and looking back, perfect even she seemed then t( 
 been. There her life appeared to have begun. She neves tl 
 of Hanley now. Ralph and Mrs. Ede were like dim shadow 
 had no concern in her existence. The potteries and the hiUi 
 as the recollections of childhood, dim and unimportant. Th 
 lights and the applause of audiences were also dying echoes 
 ears. Her life for the moment was concentrated in a loving m 
 of a Lancashire seashore and a rose-coloured room, where sh( 
 to sit on the knees of the man she adored. The laiiguors a 
 mental weaknesses of convalescence were conducive to thii 
 of mental exaltation. She loved him better than anyone else 
 love him ; she would never touch brandy again. He woul 
 her back, and they would live as did the lovers in all the 
 she had ever read. Like a scarf of white mist hanging aroui 
 face of a radiant morning, these illusions filled Kate's mini 
 as shelay back amid the pillows, or sat dreaming by the fire 
 the long evenings that were no longer lonely to her, she i 
 plans, and considered how she should plead to Dick in this 
 desired interview. During this period dozens of letters 
 written and destroyed, and it was not until the time had i 
 for her to go to the theatre to see him that she could decid 
 what she could write. Then hastily she scribbled a note, b 
 hand trembled so much that before she had said half wh 
 intended the paper was covered with blotched and blurred lii 
 
 " It will not do to let him think I am drunk again," she ! 
 herself, as she threw aside what she had written and read ov 
 of her previous efforts. It ran as follows : — 
 
 " My Dabling Dick, 
 
 " You will, I am sure, be sorry to hear that I have be( 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 387 
 
 ai. I am now, however, much better ; indeed, I may say quite 
 recovered. Durmg my illness I have been thinking over our quarrels, 
 and 1 now see how badly, how wickedly, I have behaved to you on 
 many occasions. I do not know, and I scarcely dare to hope that 
 you will ever forgive me. but I trust that you will not refuse to 
 see me for a few minutes. I have, I assure you, not tasted spirits 
 for some weeks, so you need not fear I will kick up a row. I will 
 promise to be very quiet. I will not reproach you, nor get excited, 
 nor raise my voice. I shall be very good, and will not detain you 
 but for a very short time. You will not, you cannot, oh, my 
 darling ! deny me this one little request — to see you again, although 
 only for a few minutes. 
 
 " Tour affectionate wife, 
 
 "Kate." 
 
 Compared with the fervid thoughts of her brain, these words 
 appeared to her weak and poor, but feeling that for the moment, 
 at least, she could not add to their intensity, she set out on her 
 walk, hoping to find her husband at the theatre. 
 
 It was about eight o'clock in the evening. A. light, grey fog hung 
 o\er the background of the streets, and the line of the housetops 
 was almost lost in the morose shadows that fell from a pale soot- 
 coloured sky. Here and there a chimney-stack or the sharp spire 
 of a church tore the muslin-like curtains of descending mist ; below 
 the streets twisted, wriggling their luminous way through slime 
 and gloom, whilst at every turning the broad, flaring windows of 
 the public-houses marked the English highway. But Kate paid no 
 attention to the red-lettered temptations. Docile and hopeful as a 
 tired animal thinking of its stable, she walked through the dark 
 crowd that pressed upon her, nor did she even notice when she was 
 jostled, but went on, a heedless nondescript — a something in a 
 black shawl and a quasi-respectable bonnet, a slippery stepping- 
 stone between the low women who whispered and the workwoman 
 who hurried home with the tin of evening beer in her hand. Like 
 one held and guided by the power of a dream, she lost conscious- 
 ness of all that was not of it. Yague as the mist, thoughts of how 
 Dick would receive her and forgive her were folded, entangled, 
 and broken within narrow limits of time ; half an hour passed 
 like a minute, and she found herself at the stage-door of the 
 theatre. Drawing her letter from her pocket, she said to the 
 hallkeeper : 
 
 " Will you kindly give Mr. Lennox this letter? Has he arrived 
 yet?" 
 
 " Yes, but he's very busy for the moment. But," the man added, 
 as he examined Kate's features narrowly, " you'll excuse me, I made 
 a mistake ; Mr. Lennox isn't in the theatre." 
 
 Her heart sank within her. Would she not be able to get to see 
 her husband, even for a few minutes ? At that moment the swing- 
 ing door was thrust open, and the call-boy screamed — 
 
3S8 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 " Mr. Lennox says you are not to let Miss Thomas pass to-] 
 and if there are any letters for him I am to take them in." 
 
 " Here is one ; will you give it to Mr. Lennox ? " said '. 
 eagerly thrusting forward her note. " Say that I am waitir 
 an answer. " 
 
 The stage-door keeper tried to interpose, but before he 
 explain himself the boy had rushed away. 
 
 •' All letters should be given to me," he growled as he ti 
 away to argue with Miss Thomas, who liad just arrived. In 
 minutes the call-boy came back. 
 
 " Will you please step this way," he said to Kate. 
 
 " No you sha'n't," cried the hallkeeper ; "if you try any 
 sense with me I shall send round for a policeman." 
 
 Kate started back frightened, thinking these words wei 
 dressed to her, but a glance showed her that she was mistaken 
 
 " Oh I how dare you talk to me like that ? Ton are an uns( 
 ticated beast ! " cried Miss Thomas. 
 
 "Pass under my arm, ma'am," said the hallkeeper. "I 
 want this one to get through." And amid a storm of violent ^ 
 and the strains of distant music Kate went up a narrow sta 
 that creaked under the weight of a group of girls in strange dr 
 When she got past them she saw Dick at the door of liis room 
 ing for her. The table was covered with letters, the walls witl 
 announcing " a great success." 
 
 He took her hand very kindly, and placed her in a chair, 
 looked at him, disappointed that he did not kiss her. It se 
 doubtful at first who would break an awkward and irritating sU 
 At last Dick said : 
 
 " I am soriy to hear, Kate, that you have been ill ; but yo 
 looking better now." 
 
 "Yes, I'm better now," she replied drearily; "but perhi 
 I had died it would have been as well, for you can never 
 me again." 
 
 Dick seemed embarrassed by the question. He hesitated 
 sought for words. It was distinctly against his nature to c< 
 to any woman that he did not love her, and he did hot se 
 way for the moment to making an exception even in the ci 
 his wife. 
 
 " You.know, my dear," he said, equivocating, "that we di 
 get on well together." 
 
 Mistaking for signs of a possible forgiveness the want of 
 courage which prevented him from telling her manfully that nc 
 in heaven or earth would ever persuade him to sleep under the 
 roof with her again, Kate at once melted to tenderness. Tl 
 stincts of the actress seemed to awaken in her, and she said, 
 tears in her voice : 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! I know it. You were very good to me, and I 
 your life wretched on account of my jealousy, but I couldn't h 
 oor I loved you better than a woman ever loved a man. I c 
 
A MUKMER'S WIFE. 339 
 
 tell you, I cannot find words to express how much I love you. You 
 are to me everything. I lived for your love ; I am dying of it. 
 Yes, Dick, I am dying for love of you ; I feel it here ; it devours me 
 like a fire, and what is so strange is, that nothing seems real to me 
 except you. I never think of anything but of things that concern 
 you. Anything that ever belonged to you I treasure up as a relic. 
 You know the ohaplet of pearls I used to wear when we played 
 The Lover's Knot. Well, I have them still, although all else has 
 gone from me. The string was broken once or twice, and some of 
 the pearls were lost, but I threaded them again, and it still goes 
 round my neck. I was looking at them the other day, and it made 
 me very sad, for it made me think of the Tiappy days — ah, the very 
 happy days ! — ^we have had together before I took to — . But I 
 won't speak of that. I have curpd myself. Yes, I assure you, 
 Dick, I have cured myself ; and it is for that I have come to 
 talk to you. Were I not sure that I would never touch brandy 
 again I would not ask you to take me back, for I would sooner 
 die than do what I have done, but I know that I never will. 
 Can you — will you — my own darling, Dick, give me another 
 trial?" 
 
 The intensity of her emotion gave new life to the words that were 
 often but memories of half -forgotten stage-plays, and it was evident 
 that Dick was fighting a hard fight against his feelings, and was 
 determined to do all he could not to give Way. From past experi- 
 ence, he knew well that Kate's reformation was only a thing of to- 
 day, to-morrow, or next dky — that, sooner or later, she was bound 
 to fall back into her old ways, and that then would be re-enacted all 
 the horrible scenes that he had gone through, and that he now hoped 
 he had done with for ever. Dick looked at Kate, troubled in his 
 very entrails. The victory hung in the balance, but at that moment 
 a superb girl, in all the splendour of long green tights, and resplen- 
 dent with breastplate and spear, flung open the door. 
 
 ' ' Look here, Dick, " she began, but seeing Kate, she stopped short, 
 and stammered out an apology. 
 
 "I shall be down on the stage in a minute, dear," he said, 
 rising from his chair. The door was shut, and they were again 
 alone ; but Kate felt that chance had gone against her. The 
 interruption had, with a sudden shock, killed &e emotions she 
 had succeeded in awakening, and had supplied Dick with an 
 answer that would lead him, by a way after hi» own heart, straight 
 out of his difficulty. 
 
 "My dear," he said, rising from his chair, "I am awfully glad 
 you have given up the — you know what — for between you and me, 
 that was the cause of all our trouble ; but, candidly speaking, I do 
 not think it would be advisable for us to live together, at least for 
 the present, and I'll tell you why. I know that you love me very 
 much, but, as you said yourself just now, it is your jealousy and the 
 drink together that excites you, and leads up to those terrible rows. 
 Now, the best plan would be for us to live apart, let us say for six 
 
340 A MUIIMEE'S WIFE. 
 
 months or so, until you have entirely got over your little wei 
 you know ; and then — why, then we'll be as happy as we use 
 at Blackpool in the dear old times long ago." 
 
 " Oh, Dick 1 don't say that I must wait six months ; I mi 
 dead before then. But you are not speaking the truth to me. 
 were just going to say that I might come back to you whi 
 horrid girl came in. I know. Yes, I believe there is som 
 between you," 
 
 "Now, Kate, remember your promise not to kick up a r 
 consented to see you because you said you would not be v 
 Here is your letter." 
 
 " I am not going to be violent, Dick ; but six months seen 
 a long time." 
 
 " It won't be as long passing as you think. And now I mi 
 away ; they are waiting for me on the stage. Have you se 
 piece ? Would you like to go in front ? " 
 
 " No, not to-night, Dick ; I feel too sad. But won't you 1 
 before I go ? " 
 
 Dick bent his face and kissed her ; but there was a chill 
 kiss that went to her heart, and she felt that his lips would 
 touch hers again. But she had no protest to make, and aln 
 silence she allowed herself to be shown out of the theatre, 
 she got into the mist she shivered a little, and drew her thin 
 tighter about her thin shoulders, and, with one of the chorus 
 ringing in her ears, she walked in the direction of the !: 
 Somehow her sorrow did not seem too great for her to bear. ' 
 terview had passed neither as badly nor as well as had be 
 pected, and thinking of the six months of probation that lay 
 her, without, however, being in the least able to realise their 
 ing, she walked dreaming through the sloppy, fog-smelling i 
 The lamps were now but like furred patches of yellow laid on 
 grey background, and a mud-bespattered crowd rolled in and 
 the darkness. The roofs overhead were completely engulfed 
 soot-coloured sIqt that seemed to be descending on the heads 
 passengers. Men passed carrying parcels ; the white neckt 
 theatre-goer was caught sight of ; but prostitution had for t 
 ment monopolised the town. From Lambeth, from Islingtoi 
 Pimlico, from all the dark corners where it had been lurking 
 daytime, at the fading of the light it had descended raveno 
 awful as a horde of wolves. Portly matrons, respectable-loo 
 brown silk dresses and veils, stood in the corners of alleys am 
 courts ; young girls of fifteen and sixteen, their dyed hair 1 
 about their shoulders like wisps of dirty straw, and their fa 
 speaking generations of drunkenness in the by-streets of 
 Lane, went by in couples — the elder undertaking the respon 
 of choosing. There was also much trafficking in foreign t( 
 Germans in long ulsters being tlie most assiduous ; police) 
 their beats would not have looked less concerned with amus 
 The English hung round the public-houses, enviously watch: 
 
A MUMMER'S' WrFE. 341 
 
 arched insteps of the French women, that alone tripped spotless 
 through the dreadful dirt. Smiles there were plenty, but they were 
 hard and mechanical ; even the Parisians had lost their native levity, 
 and could do no more than wink like cynical dolls. It was sordid 
 vice, black, evil-smelling as the mud underfoot, remorseless as the 
 sky overhead. 
 
 Down "Wellington Street the sickly flaring of the electric light an- 
 nounced where the river flowed, and the wliite spire of St. Mary's 
 had disappeared in the thickening gloom. Without seeing them, 
 Kate examined the passers-by — the men that hurried home, woollen 
 comforters twisted round their throats, the white-bearded ones who 
 walked slyly away with their petticoat, the youths who gazed vacantly 
 after every ankle. It astonislied her to find the world so busy ; she 
 would have changed her identity with the meanest, and she went on 
 heedlessly, until she stumbled 'against a small man who leaned 
 against a doorway, coughing violently. 
 
 They stared at each other in profound astonishment, and then 
 Eate said in a pained and broken voice : 
 " Oh, Ralph ! is it you ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed it is. But to think of meeting you here in. 
 London ! " 
 
 They had, for the second, in a sort of way, forgotten that they had 
 once been man and wife, and after a pause Eate said — 
 
 " But that's just what I was thinking. What are you doing in 
 London?" 
 
 Balph was about to answer when he was cut short by a fit of 
 coughing. His head sank into his chest, and his little body was 
 shaken until it seemed as if it were going to break to pieces like a 
 bundle of sticks. Eate looked at Mm pityingly, and said, passing 
 uticonsciously over the dividing years, just as she might have done 
 when they kept shop together in Hanley : 
 
 " Oh ! you know you shouldn't stop out in such weather as this ; 
 you wUl be breathless to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, no, I sha'n't ; I've got a new remedy. But I have lost my 
 way ; that's the reason why I am so late." 
 " Perhaps I can tell you. Where are you staying ? " 
 "In an hotel in Bedford Street, near Covent Garden." 
 " Well, then, this is your way ; you have come too far.'' 
 '. And passing again into the jostling crowd they walked on in 
 silence side by side. A slanting cloud of fog had drifted from the 
 river down into the street, creating a shivering and terrifying dark- 
 ness. The cabs moved at walking pace, the huge omnibuses stop- 
 ped belated, and their advertisements could not be read even when 
 a block occurred close under a gas-lamp. The jewellers' windows 
 emitted the most light ; but even gold and silver wares seemed 
 to have become tarnished in the sickening atmosphere. Then 
 the smell from fishmongers' shops grew sourer as the assistant 
 piled ,up the lobsters and flooded the marbles preparatory to 
 closing ; and, just within the circle of vision, inhaling the greasy 
 
342 A MXTMMBK'S WIFE. 
 
 fragrance of soup, a woman in a blue bonnet loitered near a 
 grating. 
 
 " This is Bedford Street, I think," said Kate, " but it is so dark 
 that it is impossible to see." 
 
 "I suppose you know London well?" replied Kalph somewhat 
 pointedly. 
 
 " Pretty well, I have been here now for some time.' 
 For the last three or four minutes not a word had been spoken. 
 Kate was surprised that Ralph was not angry with her ; she wanted 
 to speak to him of old times ; but it was hard to break the ice of in- 
 tervening years. At last, as they stopped before the door of a small 
 famUy hotel, he said — 
 
 " It is now something like four years since we parted, ain't it ? " 
 The question startled her, an4 she answered nervously and hur- 
 riedly — 
 
 "I suppose it is, but I had better wish you good-bye now— you 
 are safe at home. " 
 
 " Oh no ! come in ; you look so very tired, a glass of wine vill 
 do you good. Besides, what harm? Wasn't I your husband 
 once?" 
 
 " Oh, Ralph ! how can you ? " 
 
 "Why, there is no reason why I shouldn't hear how you have 
 been getting on. We are just like strangers, so many things have 
 occurred. I have married since — but perhaps you did not hear of it?" 
 ' ' Married ! Who did you marry ? " 
 " WeU ! I married your assistant. Miss Hender." 
 " What, Miss Hender your wife ? " said Kate, with an intonation 
 of voice that was full of pain. A dagger thrust suddenly through 
 her side as she went up the staircase could not have wounded her 
 more cruelly than the news that the woman who had been her assist- 
 ant now owned the house that had once been hers, and was now the 
 wife of the man who had been her husband. The story of the dog 
 in the manger is as eternal as the world. 
 
 Through the windows of the little public sitting-room nothing 
 was visible ; everything was shrouded in the yellow curtain of fog. 
 A commercial traveller had drawn oflf his boots, and was warming 
 his slippered feet by the fire. 
 
 " Dreadful weather, sir," said the man. " I'm afraid it won't do 
 your cough much good. Will you come near the fire ? " 
 " Thank you," said Ralph. 
 
 Mechanically Kate drew forward a chair. It would be impossible 
 for them to say a word, for the traveller was evidently inclined 
 to be garrulous. Both wondered what were best to do, but at 
 that moment the chambermaid came to announce that the 
 gentleman's room was ready. He retired, carrying his boots with 
 him, and they, who had once been husband and wife, were left 
 alone : and yet it seemed as diflScult as ever to speak of what was 
 uppermost in their minds. Kate helped Ralph off with his great- 
 coat, and she noticed that he looked thinner and paler. The ser- 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 343 
 
 vant brought up two glasses of grog, and when Kate had taken off 
 her bonnet, she said — 
 
 "Do you think I am much altered ? " 
 
 " Well, since you ask me, Kate, I must say I don't think you 
 are looking very well. You are thinner than you used to be, and 
 you have lost a good deal of your hair." 
 
 " I have only just recovered from a bad illness," she said sighing, 
 and as she raised the glass to her lips the gaslight defined the 
 whole contour of her head. The thick hair that used to encircle 
 her pale prominent temples like rich velvet looked now like a black 
 silk band frayed and whitened at the seam. 
 
 "But what have you been doing ? Have things gone pretty weU 
 with you ? " said Ralph, whose breath came from hmi in a thin but 
 continuous whistle. "What happened when I got my decree of 
 divorce ? " 
 
 "Nothing particular for a while, but afterwards we were married." 
 
 "Oh !" said Balph, " so he married you, did he ? Well, I shouldn't 
 have. expected it of him. So we are both married. Isn't it odd? 
 and meeting, too, in this way." 
 
 " Yes, many things have happened since then. I have been on 
 the stage — ^travelling all over England." 
 
 "What ! you on the stage, Kate ? " said Balph, lifting his head 
 from his hand. " Oh lord ! oh lord"! how — Ha ! ha ! Oh 1 but I 
 mustn't la — ugh ; I shall not be able to breathe.'' 
 
 Kate turned to him almost angrily, and the ghost of the prima 
 donna awakening in her, she said — 
 
 " I don't see what there is to laugh at. I have played all the 
 leading parts, and in all the. principal towns in England — Liverpool, 
 Manchester, Leeds. The Newcastle Chronicle said my Serpolette 
 was the best they had seen." 
 
 Kalph looked bewildered, like a man blinded for a moment by a 
 sudden flash of lightning. He could not at once realise that this 
 woman, who had been his wife, who had washed and scrubbed in 
 his little home in Hanley, was now one of those luminous women 
 who, in clear skirts and pink stockings, wander, singing beautiful 
 songs, amid Ulimitable forests and unscalable mountains. For a 
 moment he regretted he had married Miss Hender. 
 
 " But I don't think I shall ever act again.'' 
 
 " How is that 1 " he said with an intonation of disappointment in 
 his voice. 
 
 " I don't know," said Kate. " I am not living with my husand 
 now, and I haven't the courage to look out for an engagement 
 myself." 
 
 Ralph stared at her vaguely. " Look out for an engagement ? " 
 he repeated to himself, it seemed to him that he must be dreaming. 
 
 " Are you not happy with him ? Does he not treat you well ? " 
 said Ralph, dropping perforce from his dream back into reality. 
 
 " Oh yes, he has always been very good to me. I can't say 
 how it was, but somehow after a tune we did not get on. I 
 
S44 A MITMMBR'S ■WTFK. 
 
 daresay it was my fault. But how do you get on with Miss Hen- 
 der ? " said Kate, partly from curiosity, halt from a wish to change 
 the conversation. 
 
 " Oh, pretty well," said Ralph, with something that sounded, in 
 spite of his wheezing, like a sigh. 
 
 " How does she manage the dressmaking ? She was always a 
 good workwoman, but she never had much taste, and I should fancy 
 would not be able to do much if left entirely to herself." 
 
 ' ' That's just what occurred. It's curious you should have guessed 
 so correctly. The business has all gone to the dogs, »nd sinoB 
 mother's death we have turned the house into a lodging-house. " 
 
 "And is mother dead?" cried Kate, clasping her hands. " What 
 must she have thought of me ! " 
 
 Balph did not answer, but after a long silence he said — 
 
 " It's a pity, ain't it, that we did not pull it off better together?" 
 
 Kate raised her head and looked at him quickly. Her look was 
 full of gratitude. 
 
 "Yes," she said, " I behaved very badly towards you, but I be- 
 lieve I have been punished for it." 
 
 " You told me that he married you and treated you very well."- 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, bursting into tears, " don't ask me, it is too 
 long a story ; I wUl tell you another time, but not now." 
 
 It appeared to Kate that her heart was on fire and that she must 
 die of grief. " Was this life ? " she asked herself. Oh, to be at 
 rest and out of the way for ever I Ralph, too, seemed deeply 
 affected ; after a pause he said : 
 
 " I don't know how it was, or why, but now I come to think of 
 it I remember that I used to be cross with you — too cross with you, 
 but it was the horrible asthma." 
 
 Kate's Bohemianism rushed away as water flows out of sight, 
 when a sluice is suddenly raised, and she became again the middle- 
 class working woman, ever thinking of, ever willing to work in the 
 interests of her home. 
 
 " There were faults on both sides," he continued, " and I don't 
 exempt mother from blame either. She was always too hard upon 
 you. Now I should never have minded your going to the theatre 
 and amusing yourself. I should not have minded your being an 
 actress, and I should have gone to fetch you home every evening.'' 
 
 Kate smiled through her misery, and he continued, following his 
 idea to the end. 
 
 " It wouldn't have interfered with the business if you had been ; 
 on the contrary, it would have brought us a eonnection, and I might 
 have had up those plate-glass windows, and taken in the fruiterer's 
 shop." 
 
 Ralph stopped. The roar of London had sunk out of hearing 
 in the yellow depths of the fog, and for some minutes nothing was 
 heard but the short ticking of the clock. It was a melancholy 
 pleasure to dream what rtiight have been had things only taken a 
 different turn, and like children making mud pies it amused them tc 
 
A MUJIMBR'S WIFE. 345 
 
 rebuild the little fabric of their lives : whilst one reconstructed 
 his vision of broken glass, the other lamented over the ruins of 
 penny journal sentiment. Then awakening by fits and starts, each 
 confided in the other. Ralph told Kate how Mrs. Bde had spoken 
 of her when her flight had been discovered ; Kate tried to explain 
 that she was not as much to blame as might be imagined. Con- 
 stantly Ralph's curiosity got the better of him, and he could not 
 but ask her to tell him something about her stage experience. One 
 thing led to another, and before twelve o'clock it surprised her to 
 think she had told him so much. The conversation was carried on 
 in brief and broken phrases. Shivering, the man and the woman 
 sat close together, leaning over the fire. There were no curtains to 
 the windows, and the fog had crept through the sashes into the 
 room. Kate coughed from time to time — a sharp, hacking cough 
 —and Ralph's wheezing grew thipker in sound. 
 
 "I'm a — afraid I shall have a b — bad night, this dre — adful 
 weather." 
 
 " I should like to stop to nurse you ; but I must be getting 
 Lome." 
 
 " Tou surely won't think of going out such a night as this ; you 
 never will find your way home." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I shall ; it wouldn't do for me to remain here." 
 
 They who had once been husband aijd wife looked at each other, 
 and both smiled painfully. 
 
 ," Ve — ^ry well, I'll see you do — wn stairs." 
 
 " Oh, no ! you mustn't, you'll kill yourself ! " 
 
 Ralph, however, insisted. They stood on the doorstep for a 
 moment together, suffocating in a sulphur-hued atmosphere. 
 
 "You'll come a — nd see me again to — to-morrow, won't you ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes !" cried Kate ; "to-morrow ! to-morrow ! " and slic 
 disappeared in the darkueua. 
 
846 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Fate, however, had not destined that they should ever see each 
 other again. After her over-exertion and over-excitement Kate 
 found herself next day unable to leave her room ; colhpletely ex- 
 hausted she lay in bed. She had no one to whose care she could 
 bntrust a letter, and when towards the end of the week she went 
 igain to Bedford Street, she found Ralph was gone, and what waa 
 ivorse, without having left any message for her. He, upon con- 
 iideration, had come to the conclusion that this sentimentalising 
 jver old times could not be productive of much good. He was 
 iorry that Kate was not happy with her husband, but was not her 
 if e of her own making ? Had she not behaved very badly ? and 
 lad not chance favoured her ? Why, the man married her ! 
 SVhat more could he do ? And he, Kalph, was married too, so he 
 md she were as widely separated as if the Atlantic were between 
 hem. Go back they could not, and looking back was useless and 
 iad. If they did meet again all they could do would be to rake up 
 I lot of old memories. He could not help her ; sooner or later 
 ;hey would have to part, and if Mrs. Ede heard of their meeting 
 ihe would kick up an awful row. She would hit him, knock him 
 ill over the place, which was very cruel of her ; for, when he had 
 lis asthma, he was totally unable to defend himself. 
 
 Influenced by these excellent reasons, Ralph congratulated him- 
 lelf when Kate did not keep her appointment, and, as soon as his 
 msiness allowed him, he hurried out of London, more anxious to be 
 )ack in Hanley than he could have imagined himself to be. He 
 lad thought, it is true, of writing a note to explain his sudden de-- 
 )arture, but fearing to compromise himself, "to give her a hold 
 iver him," he had gone without a word ; and when this was ex- 
 )lained by the parlourmaid to Kate, sadly she left the doorstep to 
 etum to her dreary home. She did not cry ; tears were dry within 
 ler ; she had suffered so much that further misfortunes could only 
 all upon her like blows upon a jaded animal. She was now heed- 
 ess of whatever might befall her. Every fibre of moral courage, 
 if self respect, was broken through, all ties were destroyed. She 
 ras alone, and could do nothing but abandon herself to the current 
 if vice and misery that was bearing her away. Even the memory 
 if the six months of probation she had agreed to was lost sight of 
 a the disappointment of nut seeing Ralph, and before three days 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 347 
 
 her loneliness had again driven her td drink. After this relapse the 
 stages through which she sank in degradation were as rapid as they 
 were horrible. The two pounds a week allowed her by her husband 
 sufficed in a sort of way for her daily wants. For the sum of six or 
 seven shillings she got a room "good enough for her;" not two 
 shillings a day was spent in food, the rest went, wasted in public- 
 houses. Friends, even acquaintances, had disowned her, and for 
 the sake of hearing a human voice she was soon reduced to treating 
 the low women — charwomen and worse — whom she met at the 
 corners of the streets. In discoloured sheets she would remain all 
 the morning, either dozing or tossing feverishly ; then she would 
 tay to force herself to taste a cup of tea, but generally she could 
 touch nothing, and it was not until she had been out for what she 
 called a walk — a long night prowl through dingy and dirty back 
 streets — ^that she began to feel better, and in a coffee-shop would 
 stop to have something to eat. After this meal she would some- 
 times descend into the Strand, and walking up and down amid the 
 unfortunates, wait for hours in the hope of meeting Dick as he was 
 returning from the theatre. In these searches she was not success- 
 ful ; for having once caught sight of her he ever afterwards re- 
 turned home by the Embankment. Nevertheless, she did not give 
 up hope, and over glasses of whisky explaining her troubles to the 
 women — ^to whom she was known as Sentimental Kate — she would 
 loiter about the " private entrances " until one o'clock in the morn- 
 ing. By that time she was well on in liquor, and singing incoher- 
 ently, she returned home staggering. One night, however, she fell 
 into the hands of the police, and passed a night at the station. It 
 being a first offence she was let off with a small fine and a caution 
 that she must behave herself better for the future. But she was 
 now too hopelessly lost to be stayed in her downward career by even 
 this disgrace. Drink had degraded her to the utmost ; she had 
 been dragged down until there was between her and the lowest 
 depths but one step. Even that she was obliged to take. Hitherto 
 she had remained virtuous — her love of her husband burned like a 
 pure white flame in the dark night of ignominy in which she lived, 
 and although in constant relationship with the vilest, she had never 
 dreamed it possible that she could stain herself with their stain. But 
 one morning, after a night of debauch, she woke up stricken with 
 doubt, driven wild with an agonizing uncertainty of something half 
 forgotten. All she could remember was that she had been talking, 
 about midnight, to some woriien near Cnaring Cross, and that a man 
 had taken her to have a drink. She could recollect nothing more, 
 and now her ohaplet of pearls lay scattered about the floor, broken. 
 It seemed to her like an omen, and so many had now been lost 
 that she could no longer wear it round her neck. She wept bitterly 
 for a time, but her brain was capable of retaining neither ideas nor 
 sentiment ; thought slipped from her like water through a sieve. 
 As her mind became weakened her capacity for drink increased. 
 Everything, evep her violent temper, seemed to have left her ; she 
 
148 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 gradually became like a worn-out machine, from which all riveta 
 md screws had fallen, and miserable as a homeless dog, she rolled 
 :rom one lodging to another ; — after a few days driven forth from 
 ;he lowest for dirt and dissoluteness. Under the pressure of such 
 ;xcesses her disease increased daUy, and to keep pace with her 
 exhaustion she was forced to take increased doses of stimulants. 
 But the end was now rapidly approaching, and the next important 
 ivent in her life was when she found herself unable to leave her 
 3ed. She did not ring, and it was not until evening that her land- 
 ady found time to come upstairs to see what the matter was. When 
 ihe entered the room she started at the ghastly spectre before her. 
 Had she known in the first instance that the woman to whom she 
 was letting her top-floor-back was in such a bad state of health, she 
 probably would have refused to take her in ; but once having ad- 
 nitted her into possession it was difficult to turn her out ; and, 
 laving satisfied herself that Kate was in receipt of a weekly income 
 )f two pounds, she made up her mind for the worst, and accorded 
 iuch attention as would, in the event of death, qualify her for re- 
 jeiving compensation from the husband for the trouble and annoy- 
 mce she had been put to. She might have been kinder ; as it was, 
 ihe merely did her duty. The beef -tea she sometimes brought up 
 irith her own hands, and when she had time she sat by the bedside 
 md advised Kate to see a doctor. This the patient refused to do, 
 t was impossible to persuade her, and three weeks passed, weeks 
 illed with silence, moans, and the livid shadow of death. Nothing 
 low remained on her stomach ; nausea and continuous vomiting 
 naking her life a hell, until at last it became clear, even to the 
 andlady, that she could no longer accept the responsibility ; and, 
 laving made the necessary inquiries, she hurried to the Opera 
 Domique. When the woman was shown in Dick was engaged in 
 ieciding a delicate question relating to the skirts to be worn in the 
 second act of the new piece, but when it was explained to him that 
 lis wife was dying he begged of the costumier to excuse him. Yet, 
 lotwithstanding all that could be said, he could not be induced to 
 'o and see Kate. Out of sight out of mind. To appeal to this 
 nan's imagination was vain ; what he could not see he could not 
 Feel, and it was quite out of his power to understand that his 
 presence could relieve or assuage. If he were a doctor he'd go at 
 Dnce, was the answer he made to the woman's supplications ; as it 
 was it would only distress him and excite the sufferer. He had en- 
 iured too much, and had now neither affection nor pity for giving. 
 Be oflered merely a passive resistance ; and when Mrs. Forest, 
 interrupting the conversation, said, that as she had already met 
 Kate in a, previous life and should see her again some centuries 
 lience, it was only just that she should start off at once to nurse 
 der, he attempted no opposition. Indeed, he seemed quite satisfied 
 with the arrangement, merely mentioning, as a parting word of ad- 
 irice, that the second act would be put into rehearsal at the begin- 
 ning of the following week. ' 
 
A MTTMMEB'S WIFE. 349 
 
 Henceforth Mrs. Forest's place was by Kate's bedside, and, all 
 the while committing her absurd lucubrations to paper — " Sajrings 
 of the Sybil," by Alto, Una, for the general use of mankind, and 
 choruses of policemen and nuns for the particular benefit of Dick — 
 she strove to unite the discrepant offices of nurse and librettist. By a 
 strange coincidence, the doctor who attended was Mr. Hooper. He 
 at once recognised his patient, but a glance now sufficed to convince 
 him that she was doomed — that no power could save her. Perhaps, 
 had he seen that there was still any chance of even averting for a 
 time the certainty of death, he would have insisted on Mrs. Forest's 
 resigning her post as nurse. But nothing could now be done. He 
 questioned her regarding the sufferer — asked her what she knew of 
 her history, and by whose authority she was watching by the bed- 
 side. The answers he received were vague in the extreme, and 
 they consisted mostly of quotations from the " Sayings." " I 
 have lived eight times on the earth, witnessed the dread contest of ' 
 death, and died for the cause of Pan, and the Light-king, and Eros 
 the immortal, whose I am ; and once again, for the ninth time,- I 
 live and watch the contest--watch with joy which overcomes fear, 
 with love that conquers death." The contrast between this strange 
 creature and the quivering mass of flesh on the bed was as awful as 
 it was extraordinary. But as matters stood it made little difference 
 who was there ; and, having assured himself that the woman was 
 sane enough to attend to his directions, he took up his hat to go. 
 Rustling her voluminous silk, Mrs. Forest curtsied him out. 
 "Nothing," she said, "can be well worse than the present state of 
 earth-life in all its phases, and if the human race is to be evolved 
 into a higher degree of perfection no weak half measures will avail 
 to effect the change ; there must, oii the contrary, be a radical 
 change in hereditary environment." 
 
 The doctor listened a moment as if stupefied. Without answer- 
 ing, he descended the staircase. As if enchanted with the impres- 
 sion she had produced, Mrs. Forest went back to her writing-table, 
 and settling the folds of her brown silk widely over the floor, she 
 commenced to write, according to certain indications in pencil at the 
 top of the paper, a chorus of policemen : — 
 
 " We are bobbies, bobbles fat and merry, 
 And we love our biixom Marjr Janes ; 
 Kckles, mutton, ale, and likewise perry, 
 Help us, heal us of our earthly pains." 
 
 At this point the inspiration seemed to desert her, and raising her 
 pen from the paper, she bit its end thoughtfully, seeking for a 
 transitional phrase whereby she might be able to allude to the 
 Light-god. 
 
 They were in a six-shillings-a-week bedroom m the neighbourhood 
 of the Strand. The window looked on a bit of red-tiled rooflng, a 
 cistern, and a clothes-line, on which a petticoat and an apron 
 generally flapped. OTacing the light, close up against the wall, her 
 
350 A MUMMER'S -WIFE. 
 
 stomach enormously distended by dropsy, Kate lay delirious^ Fro: 
 time to time her arms, wasted now to mere bones, were wave( 
 She had been for three whole days insensible, speaking in broke 
 phrases of her past life — of Mrs. Ede, the potteries, the two litt 
 girls, Annie and Lizzie. Dick, she declared, had befen very good 1 
 her. Ralph, too, had been kind, and she was determined that tl 
 two men should not quarrel for her. They must not kill eac 
 other ; she would not allow it ; they should be friends. They woul 
 be all friends yet ; that is to say, if Mrs. Ede would permit of it 
 and why should she stand between people and make enemies i 
 them ? Then her ideas would grow still more confused, until si 
 imagined that it was for the part of the Baillie that Dick an 
 Ralph were quarrelling, and, apostrophising Mrs. Ede, she woul 
 express her regret that there was nothing in the piece for he 
 Memories, too, of the baby-girl who had died in Manchester wei 
 not wanting, and, fancying that Ralph had come to rob her ( 
 it, and making every effort to get out of bed, in Mrs. Forest 
 arms she would supplicate and pray of him to believe that it we 
 not his but Dick's child. It required, however, very little powe 
 to restrain her, and in a few moments, on the verge of suffocatioi 
 Mrs. Forest would lay her back on the pillow. Apparently tl 
 mad woman saw nothing incongruous in her conduct, and wit 
 an undisturbed mind she went back to the chorus of policemei 
 which would be required at the theatre in a few days. The lam 
 lady had given her a small table to write on, but now, when Mr 
 Forest arose to attend the patient, she could scarcely pass betwee 
 it and the basin-stand. About the bedside were nailed a few piece 
 of ragged carpet, but the boards in many places were uncovere( 
 and dust lay in heaps in every comer. A sour, acid smell pri 
 ceeded from the basin and poisoned the atmosphere. Mrs. Forei 
 did not seem to notice this. Fevered, impassioned by a sudde 
 idea concerning the Light-god, her pen went scratching over tl 
 paper, nor did she perceive that Kate had recovered conscioui 
 ness and was looking at her interrogatively. "Give me somi 
 thing to drink ; I am dying of thirst," the sick woman murmure 
 faintly. 
 
 Mrs. Forest started from her reveries, and going over to tl 
 fire-place, where the beef -tea was standing, poured out half 
 cup ; but, owing to great difiioulty in breathing, it was some tin 
 before the patient could drink it. She was now a dreadful thir 
 to look upon. !| Her thin hair hung like a wisp, and she had lost s 
 much that the prominent temples were large with a partial bal( 
 ness. The rich olive complexion was now changed to a dirty yelloT 
 around the nose and mouth the skin was pinched and puckere 
 — it looked, indeed, more like yellow blotting-paper than skiri?' Tl 
 appearance of the face was one of deep and painful distress ; the ey( 
 were glazed but filled with eager searching, the lids drooped, and i 
 bad was the breath that Mrs. Forest, when she approached the bei 
 had to stand with averted head^ After a long silence Kate said — 
 
A MUMMER'S WIFE. 351 
 
 " I have been very ill, have I not ? I think 1 must be dying. " 
 
 " Death is not death," answered Mrs. Forest, " when we die fyr 
 Pan, the undying representative of the universe cognisable to tlie 
 senses." 
 
 Kate made no reply. Over her mind lay a vague dream, through 
 whose gloom two things were just perceptible — an idea of death and 
 a desire to see Dick. But she was almost too weak to seek for 
 words, and it was with great effort that she said — 
 
 "I do not remember who you are ; I can think of nothing now, 
 but I should like to see my husband once more. Could you fetch 
 him? Is he here?" 
 
 At this mention of Dick Mrs. Forest leered with the eye that 
 was not made of glass, and, moved by some sort of grotesque 
 jealousy, she said — 
 
 " You have not been happy with him I know, my sister ; but 1 
 do not blame you. Your marriage was not a psychological union ; 
 that is the only maniage, and without it Woman cannot set her 
 foot on the lowest step of the temple of Eros." 
 
 " I am too ill to talk with you," said the dying woman ; " but I 
 loved my husband well — oh, very well indeed. In that box I keep 
 all my little remembrances of him ; they are not much — ^not much 
 — but I should like him to have them when I am gone, so that he 
 may know that I loved him to the last. Perhaps then he might 
 forgive me. " 
 
 While talking of Eros the immortal, Mrs. Forest held the box 
 under Kate's eyes. She looked at the packet of old letters, kissed 
 tlie crumpled calico rose, the button she had pulled oflF his coat in 
 a drunken fit and preserved for love, and she even slipped on her 
 wrist the few last pearls that remained of the chaplet she wore when 
 they played at sweethearts in the Lovers' Knot. But when the 
 souvenirs had been put back in the box, and Kate had again asked 
 Mrs. Forest to bring Dick to her, she began to ramble in her speech, 
 and to fancy herself in Hanley ; and as the mad woman's thoughts 
 discovered analogies between London policemen and Pan, the Light- 
 god and undying representative of the universe, her pen kept up a 
 scratching accompaniment to the equally unintelligible ravings that 
 proceeded from the bed. Scenes the most diverse were heaped 
 together in the complex confusion of a nightmare, ideas the most 
 opposed were intermingled. At one moment she told the little 
 girls, Annie and Lizzie, of the immorality of the conversations in 
 the dressing-rooms of theatres ; at another she stopped the rehearsal 
 of an opera bouffe to preach to the mummers — in phrases that were 
 remembrances of the extemporaneous prayers in the Wesleyan 
 church— of the advantages of an earnest, working, religious life. It 
 was like a costume ball, where chastity grinned from behind a mask 
 that vice was looking for, while vice hid liis nakedness in some of 
 the robes that chastity had let fall. . Thus up and down, like dice 
 thrown by demon players, were rattled the two lives, the double 
 life that tliis weak woman had so miserably lived through. But a 
 
352 A MUMMER'S WIFE. 
 
 final blending had to be reached, a point where the two becami 
 one, and this was touched when she commenced to sing her famoui 
 song, 
 
 " Look at me here, look at mo there," 
 
 alternately with the Wesleyan hymns. Sometimes in her delirium 
 she even fitted the words of one on to the tune of the other. 
 
 Still, Mrs. Forest took no notice. In terrible cadence her pei 
 went scratch, scratch, until she had finished her chorus of police 
 men. Then she turned to her pamphlet, entitled " Sayings of i 
 Sybil," and as she was inditing some remarks anent super-socialistii 
 government, it occurred to her that although Dick's marriage hac 
 not been a psychological one, it might be as well that he should se( 
 his wife before slie died. Having come to this conclusion she sud 
 denly put on her bonnet and left the house. An hour passed, twc 
 hours passed, and the landlady brought in the lamp. She placec 
 it on the table, out of sight of the dying woman's eyes, but she die 
 not stop to watch by the bedside : Kate was too fearful a thing t( 
 look upon. 
 
 A dreadful paleness had changed even the yellow of her fact 
 to an ashen tint ; her lips had disappeared, her eyes were dilated 
 and she tried to raise herself up in bed. Her withered armi 
 were waved to and fro, and in the red gloom shed from th( 
 iU-smelling paraffin lamp the large, dimly-seen folds of the bed 
 clothes were tossed to and fro by the convulsions that agitated the 
 whole body. Another hour passed away, marked, not by th( 
 mechanical ticking of a clock, but by the cavernous breathing o: 
 the woman as she crept to the edge of death. At last there came i 
 sigh, deeper and more prolonged, and with it she died. 
 
 Soon after, before the corpse had grown cold, heavy steps wen 
 heard on the staircase, and Dick and Mrs. Forest entered, one witl 
 a quantity of cockatoo-like fiutterings, the other steadily, like a bi| 
 and ponderous animal. At a glance they saw that all was over, anc 
 in silence they sat down, their hands resting on the table. In awk 
 ward phrases the man spoke hesitatingly of a happy release ; th( 
 woman listened and leered, and, ill at ease, glancing occasionally ai 
 the huge body beneath the bed-clothes, they both sought vainly foi 
 edifying thoughts and words of consolation. She would have likec 
 to have said something concerning psychological marriages ; h( 
 wished to say something nice and kind, but hor presence put every 
 thing out of his head, and so his ideas became more than eve; 
 broken and disjointed, his thoughts wandered, until at last, liftinf 
 his eyes from the MS. on the table, he said — 
 
 " Have you finished the second act, dear ? " 
 
THE SCOTT LIBRARY. 
 
 Cloth, Uncut Edges, Gilt Top. Price IjQ per Vol. 
 
 VOLUMES ALREADY ISSUBD- 
 
 1 MALORY'S ROMANCE OF KING ARTHUR AND 
 
 the Quest of the Holy Grail. Edited by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 2 THOREAU'S WALDEN. WITH INTRODUCTORY 
 
 Note by Will H. Dircks. 
 
 3 THOREAU'S "WEEK." WITH PREFATORY 
 
 Note by Will H. Dircks 
 
 4 CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH OPIUM-EATER, 
 
 etc. By Thos. De Quincey. With Introductory Note by Wm. Sharp. 
 
 5 LANDOR'S IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS. 
 
 Selected, with Introduction, by Havelock Ellis., 
 
 6 PLUTARCH'S LIVES (LANGHORNE). WITH 
 
 Introductory Note by B. J. Snell, M.A. 
 
 7 BROWNE'S RELIGIO MEDICI, ETC. WITH 
 
 Introduction by J. Addington Symonds. 
 
 8 SHELLEY'S ESSAYS AND LETTERS. EDITED, 
 
 with Introductory Note, by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 9 SWIFT'S PROSE WRITINGS. CHOSEN AND 
 
 arranged, with Introduction, by Walter Lewin. 
 
 10 MY STUDY WINDOWS. BY JAMES RUSSELL 
 
 Lowell. With Introduction by R. Garnett, LL.D. 
 
 11 LOWELL'S ESSAYS ON THE ENGLISH POETS. 
 
 With a new Introduction by Mr. Lowell. 
 
 12 THE BIGLOW PAPERS. BY JAMES RUSSELL 
 
 Lowell. With a Pre-'atory Note by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 13 GREAT ENGLISH PAINTERS. SELECTED 
 
 from Cunningham's Lives. Edited by William Sharp. 
 
 London Walter Scott, Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
THE SCOTT IjIBRAIiY—Coniinuea. 
 
 14 BYRON'S LETTERS AND JOURNALS. SELECTED, 
 
 with Introduction, by Mathilde Blind. 
 
 15 LEIGH HUNT'S ESSAYS. WITH INTRODUC- 
 
 tion and Notes by Arthur Symons. 
 
 16 LONGFELLOW'S "HYPERION," " KAVANAH," 
 
 and " The Trouveres." With Introduction by W. Tirebuck. 
 
 17 GREAT MUSICAL COMPOSERS. BY G. F. FERRIS. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, by Mrs. William Sharp. 
 
 18 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS. 
 
 Edited by Alice Zimmern. 
 
 19 THE TEACHING OF EPICTETUS. TRANSLATED 
 
 from the Greek, with Introduction and Notes, by T. W. RoUeston. 
 
 20 SELECTIONS FROM SENECA. WITH INTRO- 
 
 duction by Walter Clode. 
 
 21 SPECIMEN DAYS IN AMERICA. BY WALT 
 
 Whitman. Revised by the Author, with fresh Preface. 
 
 22 DEMOCRATIC VISTAS, AND OTHER PAPERS. 
 
 By Walt Whitman. (Published by arrangement with the Author.) 
 
 23 WHITE'S NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE. 
 
 With a Preface by Richard Jefferies. 
 
 24 DEFOE'S CAPTAIN SINGLETON. EDITED, WITH 
 
 Introduction, by H. Halliday Sparling. 
 
 25 MAZZINI'S ESSAYS: LITERARY, POLITICAL, 
 
 and Religious. With Introduction by William Clarke. 
 
 26 PROSE WRITINGS OF HEINE. WITH INTRO- 
 
 duction by Havelock Ellis. 
 
 27 REYNOLDS'S DISCOURSES. WITH INTRODUC- 
 
 tion by Helen Zimmern. 
 
 28 PAPERS OF STEELE AND ADDISON. EDITED 
 
 by Walter Lewin. 
 
 29 BURNS'S LETTERS. SELECTED AND ARRANGED, 
 
 with Introduction, by J. Logie Robertson, M.A. 
 
 London : Walter Scott, Ltd. , 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
THE SCOTT IjIBRARY- Continued. 
 
 30 VOLSUNGA SAGA. William Morri& With 
 
 Introduction by H. H. Sparling. 
 
 31 SARTOR RESARTUS, BY THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
 With Introduction by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 32 SELECT WRITINGS OF EMERSON. WITH 
 
 Introduction by Percival Chubb. 
 
 33 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LORD HERBERT. 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction, by Will H. Dircks. 
 
 34 ENGLISH PROSE, FROM MAUNDEVILLE TO 
 
 Thackeray. Chosen and Edited by Arthur Galton. 
 
 35 THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY, AND OTHER PLAYS. 
 
 By Henrik Ibsen. Edited, with an Introduction, by Havelock EUis. 
 
 36 IRISH FAIRY AND FOLK TALES. EDITED AND 
 
 Selected by W. B. Yeats. 
 
 37 ESSAYS OF DR. JOHNSON, WITH BIOGRA- 
 
 phical Introduction and Notes by Stuart J. Reid. 
 
 38 ESSAYS OF WILLIAM HAZLITT. SELECTED 
 
 and Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by 'Frank Carr. 
 
 39 LANDOR'S PENTAMERON, AND OTHER 
 
 Imaginary Conversations. Edited, with a Preface, by H. Ellis. 
 
 40 POE'S TALES AND ESSAYS. EDITED, WITH 
 
 Introduction, by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 41 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. BY OLIVER GOLD- 
 
 smith. Edited, with Preface, by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 42 POLITICAL ORATIONS,. FROM WENTWORTH TO 
 
 Macaulay. Edited, with Introduction, by William Clarke. 
 
 43 THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 
 
 By Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 44 THE POET AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. BY 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 45 THE PROFESSOR AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 
 
 By Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 London: Walter Scott, Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
THE SCOTT LIBRARY— C(7«rtK««^- 
 ^6 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERSTO HIS SON. 
 
 Selected, with Introduction, by Charles Sayle. 
 
 47 STORIES FROM CARLETON. SELECTED, WITH 
 
 Introduction, by W. Yeats. 
 
 48 JANE EYRE. BY CHARLOTTE BRONTE. 
 
 Edited by Clement K. Shorter. 
 
 49 ELIZABETHAN ENGLAND. EDITED BY 
 
 Lothrop Withington, with a Preface by Dr. Furnivall. 
 
 50 THE PROSE WRITINGS OF THOMAS DAVIS. 
 
 Edited by T. W. Rolleston. 
 
 51 SPENCE'S ANECDOTES. A SELECTION. 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, by John Underbill. 
 
 52 MORE'S UTOPIA, AND LIFE OF EDWARD V. 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction, by Maurice Adams. 
 
 53 SADI'S GULISTAN, OR FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 Translated^, with an Essay, by James Ross. 
 
 54 ENGLISH FAIRY AND FOLK TALES. EDITED 
 
 by E. Sidney Hartland. 
 
 55 NORTHERN STUDIES. BY EDMUND GOSSE. 
 
 With a Note by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 56 EARLY REVIEWS OF GREAT WRITERS. 
 
 Edited by E. Stevenson. 
 
 57 ARISTOTLE'S ETHICS. WITH GEORGE HENRY 
 
 Lewes's Essay on Aristotle prefixed. 
 
 58 LANDOR'S PERICLES AND ASPASIA. EDITiJD, 
 
 with an Introduction, by Havelock Ellis. 
 
 59 ANNALS OF TACITUS. THOMAS GORDON'S 
 
 Translation. Edited, with an Introduction, by Arthur Gallon. 
 
 60 ESSAYS OF ELIA. BY CHARLES LAMB. EDITED, 
 
 with in Introduction, by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 61 BALZAC'S SHORTER STORIES. TRANSLATED 
 
 by William Wilson and the Count Stenbock. 
 
 London: Walter Scott, Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
THE SCOTT LIBRARY— Ctf«ft»»«rf. 
 
 62 COMEDIES OF DE MUSSET. EDITED, WITH 
 
 an Introductory Note, by S. L. Gwynn. 
 
 63 CORAL REEFS. BY CHARLES DARWIN. 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction, by Dr. J. W. Williams. 
 
 64 SHERIDAN'S PLAYS. EDITED, WITH AN 
 
 Introduction, by Rudolf Dircks. 
 
 65 OUR VILLAGE. BY MISS MITFORD. EDITED, 
 
 with an Introduction, by Ernest Rhys. 
 
 66 MASTER HUMPHREY'S CLOCK, AND OTHER 
 
 Stories. By Charles Dickens. With Introduction by F. T. Marzials. 
 
 67 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. BY RUDOLPH 
 
 Baumbach. Translated by Helen B. Dole. 
 
 68 ESSAYS AND PAPERS BY DOUGLAS JERROLD. 
 
 Edited by Walter Jerrold. 
 
 69 VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN. 
 
 By Mary WoUstonecraft. Introduction by Mrs. E. Robins Pennell. 
 
 70 "THE ATHENIAN ORACLE." A SELECTION. 
 
 Edited by John Underbill, with Prefatory Note by Walter Besant. 
 
 71 ESSAYS OF SAINTE-BEUVE. TRANSLATED AND 
 
 Edited, with an' Introduction, by Elizabeth Lee. 
 
 72 SELECTIONS FROM PLATO. FROM THE TRANS- 
 
 lation of Sydenham and Taylor. Edited by T. W. Rolleston. 
 
 THE SCOTT LIBRARY may be had in the following 
 Bindings: — Cloth, uncut edges, gilt' top, is. 6d. ; Half-Morocco, 
 gilt top, antique ; Red Roan, gilt edges, etc. 
 
 London: Walter Scott, Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
GREA T WR ITERS. 
 
 A WEW SERIES OF CRITICAL BIOGRAPHIES. 
 
 Edited by Professor ERIC S. ROBERTSON, M.A. 
 
 COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY to each volume. 
 By J. P. ANDERSON, British Museum, London. 
 
 Cloth, Uncut Edges, Gilt Top. Price 1/6. 
 
 ■ — * I 
 
 VOLUMES AXJIBADY ISSUED— 
 
 IFE OF LONGFELLOW. By Prof. Eric S. Robertson. 
 
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 IFE OF COLERIDGE. By Hall Caine. 
 
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 IFE OF DICKENS. By Frank T. Marzials. 
 
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 ,IFE OF THOMAS CARLYLE. By R. Garnett, LL.D. 
 
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 -IFE OF ADAM SMITH. By R. B. Haldane, M.P. 
 
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GREAT WRITERS— CoK/wasrf: 
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 LIFE OF SHELLEY. By William Sharp. 
 
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 LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. By Austin Dobson. 
 
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 LIFE OF GOETHE. By James Sime. 
 
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 LIFE OF CONGREVE. By Edmund Gosse. 
 
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 LIFE OF CAPTAIN MARRYAT. By David Hannay. 
 
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 London : Walter Scott, Ltd., 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row, 
 
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 FE OF MILTON. By Richard Garnett, LL.D. 
 
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 FE OF BALZAC. By Frederick Wedmore. 
 
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 FE OF JANE AUSTEN. By Goldwin Smith. 
 
 " Mr. Goldwin Smith has added another to the not inconsiderable roll of 
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 FE OF BROWNING. By William Sharp. 
 
 *' This little volume is a model of excellent English, and in every respect it 
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 FE OF SCHOPENHAUER. By Professor Wallace. 
 
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 FE OF SHERIDAN. By Llyod Sanders. 
 
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 FE OF THACKERAY. By Herman Merivale and 
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 Library Edition of " Great Writers," Demy %vo, zs. 6d. 
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 Crown Zvo, Cloth, 3^. 6d. J>er vol. ; Half Morocco, 6s. 6d. 
 
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 MSrals of Seneca. 
 
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 Thoreau's Walden. 
 Thoreau's Week. 
 Thoreau's Essays. 
 
 FAMOUS LEHERS- 
 
 Letters of Burns. 
 Letters of Byron. 
 Letters of Shelley. 
 
 LOWELL SERIES- 
 
 My Study Windows. 
 The English Poets. 
 The Biglow Papers. 
 
 London : Waltbr Scott, 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
Quarto, cloth elegant, gilt edges, emblematic design on cover, 6s. 
 May also be had in a variety of Fancy Bindings. 
 
 THE 
 
 MUSIC OF THE POETS 
 
 A MUSICIANS' BIRTHDAY BOOK. 
 
 Edited by Eleonore D'Esterre Keeling. 
 
 This is a unique Birthday Book. Against each date are given 
 the names of musicians whose birthday it is, together with a 
 verse-quotation appropriate to the character of their different 
 compositions or performances. A special feature of the book 
 consists in the reproduction in fac-simile of autographs, and 
 autographic music, of living composers. The selections of verse 
 (from before Chaucer to the present time) have been made with 
 admirable critical insight. English verse is rich in utterances of 
 the poets about music, and merely as a volume of poetry about 
 music this book makes a charming anthology. Three sonnets by 
 Mr. Theodore Watts, on the "Fausts" of Berlioz, Schumann, 
 and Gounod, have been written specially for this volume. It is 
 illustrated with designs of various musical instruments, etc.; 
 autographs of Rubenstein, Dvorak, Greig, Mackenzie, Villiers 
 Stanford, etc., etc. 
 
 "To musical amateurs this will certainly prove the most 
 attractive birthday book ever published." — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 " One of those happy ideas that seems to have been yearning. 
 for fulfilment. . . . The book ought to have a place on every 
 music stand." — Scottish Leader. 
 
 London : Walter Scott, 24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. 
 
Cornell university Library 
 
 PR 5042.M9 
 
 A mumtner's wrte. 
 
 All books are subject to recall after two weeks. 
 
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