On the night of the benefit, Lucy was in a most exasperating mood,
Christie in a very indignant one, and as they entered their
dressing-room they looked as if they might have played the Rival
Queens with great effect. Lucy offered no help and Christie asked
none, but putting her vexation resolutely out of sight fixed her
mind on the task before her.

As the pleasant stir began all about her, actress-like, she felt her
spirits rise, her courage increase with every curl she fastened up,
every gay garment she put on, and soon smiled approvingly at
herself, for excitement lent her cheeks a better color than rouge,
her eyes shone with satisfaction, and her heart beat high with the
resolve to make a hit or die.

Christie needed encouragement that night, and found it in the hearty
welcome that greeted her, and the full house, which proved how kind
a regard was entertained for her by many who knew her only by a
fictitious name. She felt this deeply, and it helped her much, for
she was vexed with many trials those before the footlights knew
nothing of.

The other players were full of kindly interest in her success, but
Lucy took a naughty satisfaction in harassing her by all the small
slights and unanswerable provocations which one actress has it in
her power to inflict upon another.

Christie was fretted almost beyond endurance, and retaliated by an
ominous frown when her position allowed, threatening asides when a
moment's by-play favored their delivery, and angry protests whenever
she met Lucy off the stage.