I did remember it. Mrs. ————— was a lady for whom there was considerable sympathy. Maddened by her husband's neglect and ill-treatment, she shot him with a revolver one night after a fierce quarrel. The wound was nearly fatal, and the unfortunate woman was awarded a term of penal servitude. "I never saw such an extraordinary resemblance to Mrs. ————— in her convict dress," said the official; "but, of course, it is a coincidence. Mrs. ————— was old enough to be this young lady's mother."
After the act was over I went behind the scenes to make a few alterations, and I told the young actress "convict" that the gentleman in front was a prison official, and I added jokingly, "He says you are the living image of Mrs. —————, who was at Millbank for the attempted murder of her husband."
I expected the young lady to laugh, but, to my astonishment, the colour faded from her face and she became visibly distressed.
"What a dreadful idea!" she gasped. "It frightens me—I—I wish you hadn't told me."
She walked quickly away, and I thought no more of the incident. Long afterwards I learnt the truth.
The young actress who had attracted the attention of the prison official was the daughter of Mrs. —————. Under another name she had gone upon the stage. It was a strange coincidence that the daughter of a female convict should be called upon to represent a female convict in Millbank before an official who had been at Millbank when her mother was there.
CHAPTER XXI.—THE ROMANCE OF REALITY
She waits in vain—Messengers from the First Cousin of the Moon— Witches and wise women—The seventh child of a seventh child— Secret societies of vengeance—Italy in London