But, from all these observations, my thoughts were turned back to the stage by the influence of the little Sophie Seymour. She—about whom we knew nothing—she was the only one of the party entirely absorbed in the opera. Her eyes fixed upon the stage; her heart wrapt up in the intense story that was being enacted; her musical soul throbbing with the glorious chords that swelled out; her whole being reflected the opera.
So I turned me to the stage. My eyes fell first upon the substitute that the illness of Mademoiselle —— required for the night. Just now she was standing on one side, and as she drew her white glove closer, her thoughts were going back to the scenes of the day.
Oh! what a little room she lived in! She was sitting in it when the message came from the manager to summon her to sing to-night! Her brother Franz was copying some music by her side; and now she is smiling at the recollection of the conversation that had followed upon her accepting the manager’s unexpected proposal.
She had hastened to get out her last concert dress. It was new once—but oh! would it answer now for the opera?
Those very white kid gloves! They had cost her her dinner.
“Must I have new ones, Franz?” she had asked. “If there were only time to have an old pair cleaned—if, indeed, I have any left worth cleaning!”
“Never mind,” answered Franz, “it is worth twenty dinners to have you hear the opera. I have longed so every night to have you there, and to have you on the stage! my highest wishes are granted. Oh! Marie, when you make a great point, I shall have to take my flute from my mouth and cry bravo!”
“Oh, don’t speak of the singing. It takes away my breath to think of myself upon the stage! How I waste my time over dress and gloves! I must practice; I must be ready for the rehearsal.”
“My poor Marie! To-day, of all days, to go without dinner.”
“Don’t think of it! When the manager ‘pays up,’ oh, then, Franz! we’ll have dinners. Only part of the money must go to a new concert dress. When my last was new, I overheard, as I left the stage, a young girl saying, to her sister, I suppose, ‘What an elegant dress!’ I wanted to stop and ask her if she thought it were worth going without meat for a month.”