“Who is that?” said Drake.
“My little boy whose leg was amputated,” said Glory.
“This Glory is so funny!” said Polly. “Fancy talking of that here!”
“Hush!” said Lord Robert; “the curtain is going up.” And at the next moment Glory was laughing because they were all in the dark.
The play was Much Ado about Nothing, and Glory whispered to Drake that she had never seen it before, but she had read Macbeth, and knew all about Shakespeare and the drama. The first scene took her breath away, being so large and so splendid. It represented the outside of a gentleman's house, and she thought what a length of time it must have taken to build it, considering it was to last only a single night. But hush! The people were going indoors. No; they preferred to talk in the street. Oh, we were in Italy? Yes, indeed, that was different.
Leonato delivered his first speeches forcibly, and was rewarded with applause. Glory clapped her hands also, and said he was a very good actor for such a very old gentleman.
Then Beatrice made her entrance, and was greeted with cheers, whereupon Glory looked perplexed.
“It's Terry,” whispered Polly; and Drake said, “Ellen Terry”; but Glory still looked puzzled.
“They are calling her 'Beatrice,'” she said. Then, mastering the situation, she looked wise and said: “Of course—the actress—I quite understand; but why do they applaud her—she has done nothing yet?”
Drake explained that the lady playing Beatrice was a great favourite, and that the applause of the audience had been of the nature of a welcome to a welcome guest, as much as to say they had liked her before, and were glad to see her again. Glory thought that was beautiful, and, looking at the gleaming eyes that shone out of the darkness, she said: