There was quite a buzz of astonishment among the people on the stage when the clergyman told his simple story, and they saw at once that it was true.
Mr. Leighton, who had been awfully wild at having his scene spoiled, when he heard the clergyman’s story, was very much affected, and said he would see the clergyman after the performance, if he would wait. They asked him if he would like to go into a box; but the clergyman said, “No; he did not want to see anything in a theatre. He would wait outside.”
The manager said perhaps it was as well, for if he went anywhere in the house where he could be seen it would start the people off, and be unpleasant; because, of course, as playgoers, what with the clergyman’s words and manners, and the curtain coming down bang, they knew something had happened that wasn’t in the play.
When the clergyman told the doctor the story, the doctor laughed till the tears came into his eyes; and he chaffed the poor man finely about making his first appearance, and having acted a part.
He was in a very good humour, because, though the clergyman, through his ignorance, had made such a mess of it at the beginning, he had finished by doing what he wanted. He told the young gentleman, after the play was over, all about the young lady, and what the doctor said, and the young fellow told him that he had never known a happy moment since they were parted, and he would make any sacrifice in the world to save his sweetheart’s life.
He quite won our clergyman’s heart by his nice manner and the way he talked. And before they parted he gave the clergyman his word that, if he was allowed to see his sweetheart again, dearly as he loved his profession, he would give it up for ever.
That made the clergyman take his part at once, and feel that he had done a wonderful thing; so he came back and saw Mrs. Elmore the next day, and told her it would be wicked to keep the young people apart, as, if she allowed them to see each other and be engaged, she would not only save her daughter’s life, but she would rescue a young fellow from play-acting.
It took a long time to convince the woman—she was so hard; but at last she consented, and first the young fellow was told to send his sweetheart a letter. And the clergyman gave it to her, telling her gently to hope that the happiness she thought lost for ever might yet be hers.
And then the young lady read the letter, and it made her cry. But from that day she began to mend slowly, and in a fortnight she was sitting up again on the sofa in the sitting-room.
And one day the doctor came to me, quite beaming, and said, “Now, Mrs. Beckett, who do you think’s coming to your hotel to-morrow?”