prevented.




CHAPTER IV.


It is the evening of the theatricals; and in one of the larger
drawing-rooms at the castle, where the stage has been erected, and also
in another room behind connected with it by folding-doors, everybody of
note in the county is already assembled. Fans are fluttering--so are
many hearts behind the scenes--and a low buzz of conversation is being
carried on among the company.

Then the curtain rises; the fans stop rustling, the conversation ceases,
and all faces turn curiously to the small but perfect stage that the
London workmen have erected.

Every one is very anxious to see what his or her neighbor is going to do
when brought before a critical audience. Nobody, of course, hopes openly
for a break-down, but secretly there are a few who would be glad to see
such-and-such a one's pride lowered.

No mischance, however, occurs. The insipid Tony speaks his lines
perfectly, if he fails to grasp the idea that a little acting thrown in
would be an improvement; a very charming Cousin Con is made out of Miss
Villiers; a rather stilted but strictly correct old lady out of Lady
Gertrude Vining. But Florence Delmaine, as Kate Hardcastle, leaves
nothing to be desired, and many are the complimentary speeches uttered