Mr. Duval had arrived at the theatre early, donned his stage costume, and was occupying himself in looking after the members of his troupe. He found Mr. Covington, like most novices, in deep distress as regards his costume, and assisted that young gentleman to make up his face, and showed him how to wear his sword. He gave Mr. Skrymshire a little more red eyebrow, and threw a Hibernian expression into the low comedian's somewhat long face by the simple process of making two thick black streaks under his nose, which imparted to that organ a turn-up appearance. With Mrs. Regan, on the contrary, he had to tone down the Hibernianism, that worthy old woman being desirous of expressing her nationality by entering into a fight with her attendant dresser. Finally, Mr. Duval knocked at Miss Montressor's dressing-room, and being bidden to come in, stood in the doorway and expressed his delight by clapping his hands.
'Nothing could be better, my dear,' said he. 'Why on earth didn't I have you for the original Kathleen Mavourneen in London? If I had, I should have made 32,000l. by this time. The rouge a little higher up on the left cheek, dear, I think, and the right eyebrow, too, a hair's-breadth longer--that will do nicely! You must take off your rings, dear; peasant girls in Kerry don't wear blue silk stockings either, but that's a poetical license; but I do not think the public will stand the rings. That's right! Now just remember one thing, that the Irish brogue is permanent, and not a temporary affliction, and that you are sometimes in the habit of forgetting it, and talking in your native Regent-street accent; think of that, and hold to it all through; and if you stick at all for words--I don't think you will, for you struck me as being letter perfect--but if you do, just say "Arrah!" and "Bedad!" until I can get alongside and prompt you. Now, then, it is my time to go on.'
Two minutes after, an enormous roar of applause welcomed Mr. Bryan's return to the United States, a roar which very speedily was exceeded twenty fold by the greeting given to Miss Montressor. There is an idea that an American audience is not enthusiastic, but it is a false one, for if you please them there is no people so lavish in their favour. The ladies waved their handkerchiefs, the gentlemen cheered and clapped their hands, the rougher portion of the community roared and shrieked until they were hoarse, and Miss Montressor stood curtsying and curtsying, her hands crossed over her little blue bodice, and her eyes demurely cast upon the ground.
When silence was restored and the business of the play recommenced, she took advantage of the first opportunity to look in the direction where, according to Bess's information, she expected to see Mrs. Griswold. There, accordingly, at the end of the first circle, in the last seat but one on the right-hand side, sat a lady with a quantity of fine brown hair, dressed in plain blue velvet and guipure lace, and bearing a blue-and-gold fan. What caused Miss Montressor to start as she gazed upon this face? What rendered her so oblivious for the moment that Bryan Duval had to prompt her? Mrs. Griswold had never been out of America, and yet Miss Montressor could have sworn she had seen her before. Whenever she could she stole a glance at the face, and still found it familiar to her; but it was not until nearly the close of the play that the right idea came to her.
It came like an inspiration. 'The portrait!' she said to herself; 'the portrait! That woman may or may not be Mrs. Griswold, but assuredly she is the original of the portrait set in the watch which was shown to me on the terrace at Richmond by Mr. Foster.'
[CHAPTER VI.]
STARTLING NEWS.
The curtain had fallen upon the happy marriage of Kathleen Mavourneen and Comether O'Shaughnessy. The talented representatives of the two characters had been called forward several times amidst huzzahs, and most of the audience had quitted the theatre; and Miss Montressor had retired to her dressing-room, where, throwing herself into a chair, she fell into a reverie.
'What could be the meaning of that extraordinary resemblance between the lady who had sat in the very seat which Bess had assured her had been taken by Mrs. Griswold, and the portrait which Mr. Foster had shown her on the terrace at Richmond, as that of his wife? There must have been some mistake; Bess must have made a blunder about the exact position in the circle, or Mrs. Griswold must have been unable to obtain the seat on which she had first set her mind!' But then came the identity of the costume the lady in the circle wore--the exact dress which Bess had described as that which her mistress was about to wear; the blue velvet and guipure lace, the plain gold ornaments, the blue-and-gold fan--all were there. It was most astonishing--Miss Montressor admitted that; but she could not understand why, as she admitted it, a sombre presentiment, a sense of some impending calamity, seemed to come across her.
She was roused by a knock at the door, following immediately on which Mr. Bryan Duval put in his head.