Stuart took Harriet to the stage door on his way for Nan. As the cab wheeled up Broadway he was in a fever of excitement over the outcome of the night's work.
"It's horribly unfair, little pal, for them to thrust you into such a position with only a few hours' rehearsal."
"I'm only too thankful for the chance, Jim," she answered serenely.
"Let me see if your hand is trembling."
Ho took her hand in his and held it a moment, looking tenderly into her expressive eyes.
"I never saw anything like it in my life!" he exclaimed. "You're as cool and unconcerned as if you were going to hear me sing instead of making your first appearance in one of the great rôles of an immortal opera. You haven't the slightest fear of failure?"
She smiled with joyous eagerness as she replied:
"I know that I can sing to-night, I may not make a deep impression or create the slightest excitement, but I can't fail."
"If you should, dearie," he said, with deep tenderness, "promise me not to take it to heart. Such a trial is not fair to you. Even the greatest star could not do her best under such conditions."
"No, they couldn't be induced to sing under such conditions. But I am divinely happy over it. I promise you that not a tear shall stain my face if I fail. I shall only laugh and try again."