Whittier.
At length the day arrived when Christine Greville was to appear. A rehearsal had been called for eleven, and it so happened that Ralph reached the stage door just as the “star” with her maid in attendance drove up. He had naturally been very anxious to see her, and was pleased that their meeting should be in bright sunlight, not in the dreary gloom of the empty theatre. He caught a vision of fair hair beneath a broad black straw hat, and of blush roses that harmonised well with the beautiful but rather grave face. Then it chanced that in alighting, Miss Greville dropped her parasol, and Ralph of course promptly stooped to pick it up for her.
“Thank you,” she said, and her low voice thrilled him. “It was careless of me.” As she spoke her lips smiled, but he thought the brown eyes that for a moment met his fully were the saddest as well as the sweetest he had ever seen.
The doorkeeper having now perceived her hastened forward, and she passed into the building.
It was with some surprise that in glancing round she saw that Ralph also had entered. Something in his manner had pleased her, and she presently turned to the manager with a question.
“Who is that young fellow behind us?” she inquired, lowering her voice.
“He is a pupil of Macneillie’s,” said the manager, “and at present is only ‘walking gentleman,’ but he has the makings of a good actor in him.”
“Introduce him to me,” said Miss Greville.
So Ralph, to his no small delight, was presented to the great lady, who gave him a cordial hand-shake.
“They tell me you are Hugh Macneillie’s pupil,” she said.