“I have never been in a theatre but once before.”
“Bless me, where have you lived all your life?” exclaimed her companion, in unaffected amazement. Her own familiarity with the theatre made her look upon Helen as singularly unsophisticated.
“Papa and I have always lived very quietly,” said Helen, smiling, “and he never goes himself.”
“Before I select a dress for you,” said Mrs. Girdle, for such she informed Helen was her name, “I will show you the stage. You will want to know where to make your entrance and exit.”
Taking Helen’s hand, she led her forward until she stood on the stage—a place of mystery, which to the uninitiated who only see it from a distance in the glare of gas-light, seems like a land of enchantment, peopled by kings and nobles, fair ladies and gallant gentlemen. Now it was dreary and comfortless. A very faint light threw its sickly beams over coarsely-painted scenes and tawdry ornaments.
Was this the stage which had seemed so bright and beautiful to Helen only a few evenings before? It was, indeed, the same. She recognized the green curtain, the use of which had puzzled her, and the long rows of empty seats which stared her in the face when she proceeded to the front. The house itself had undergone as dreary a metamorphosis. Then it was alive with bright and eager faces. Now it was dark and cheerless.
But Helen had little time to spend in looking about her. She was summoned to the side of Mrs. Girdle, who in a business-like manner explained to her what it was necessary for her to know. Helen listened with attention, and promised to remember.
“It is very important that you should bear in mind all I have been telling you,” said Mrs. Girdle. “I can tell you that from my own experience. When I first appeared on the stage as a young girl, I paid less attention than I ought to this point. It was very easy finding my way off the stage in the daytime when there was nothing to distract my attention, but in the evening it was a different affair. I remember doing very well till it was time to withdraw. Then in my excitement I quite forgot all that I ought to have remembered. I turned about in confusion, and seemed to see every eye fixed upon me. I was seized with a nervous terror. The audience I thought were laughing at me. In my desperation I darted forward, little heeding where, and fell through a trap-door which had carelessly been left open. Fortunately I was not injured seriously, only receiving a salutary fright, which taught me to be more careful in future.”
“Do you appear to-night?” asked Helen, with interest.
“I do not play as much as formerly, scarcely at all in fact,” answered Mrs. Girdle, somewhat sadly. “New favorites have sprung up, and my services are no longer required, except in emergencies.”