"Which way? Come! come! I will go."
Hepworth had been too often behind the scenes not to know how to gain admittance there on this occasion. He knew how resolute that young creature was, when a generous or daring idea possessed her, and, after waiting a moment for Lady Hope to speak, led Lady Clara away.
Clara was bewildered and almost terrified by the black darkness of the passage, which was lighted only by fitful gleams from the stage; but excitement kept up her courage, and she entered Olympia's dressing-room with the air of a person born to the tragic purple.
CHAPTER X.
THE TWO FOSTER-CHILDREN MEET.
Caroline was lying upon a heap of rich garments piled on the sofa. She was trembling still, and every few moments a burst of bitter sobs broke from her. Three women were standing by—her own maid, Eliza, upon whose sympathetic face tears were trembling; Margaret, her sister; and, most conspicuous of all, Olympia's French maid, who bent over the poor girl, with a bottle of perfume in each hand, with which she insisted on assuaging the unhappy girl's anguish.
Lady Clara comprehended the scene at a glance, went up to the sofa, took the French maid by the shoulders, and wheeled her away so swiftly that the bottles jingled; then she fell upon her knees by the sofa, and flung one arm over Caroline.
"Don't mind them; don't let them bother you. Just tell me what has come over you, and I'll set it right, or know the reason why."
The voice, so sweet, so round and cheering, aroused Caroline.
She rose up on her elbow, and seeing the bright, honest face which had bent toward her so kindly from the box, reached out her arms, and wound them over Clara's neck.