redoubled exertion, and whether she did well or ill, was praised or
blamed, she found a never-failing excitement in her attempts to
reach the standard of perfection she had set up for herself. Kent
did not regret his patronage. Mr. Sharp was satisfied with the
success of the experiment, and Christie soon became a favorite in a
small way, because behind the actress the public always saw a woman
who never "forgot the modesty of nature."

But as she grew prosperous in outward things, Christie found herself
burdened with a private cross that tried her very much. Lucy was no
longer her friend; something had come between them, and a steadily
increasing coldness took the place of the confidence and affection
which had once existed. Lucy was jealous for Christie had passed her
in the race. She knew she could not fill the place Christie had
gained by favor, and now held by her own exertions, still she was
bitterly envious, though ashamed to own it.

Christie tried to be just and gentle, to prove her gratitude to her
first friend, and to show that her heart was unchanged. But she
failed to win Lucy back and felt herself injured by such unjust
resentment. Mrs. Black took her daughter's part, and though they
preserved the peace outwardly the old friendliness was quite gone.

Hoping to forget this trouble in excitement Christie gave herself
entirely to her profession, finding in it a satisfaction which for a
time consoled her.

But gradually she underwent the sorrowful change which comes to
strong natures when they wrong themselves through ignorance or
wilfulness.