the most exemplary manner.

Little Bows, the house-friend of the family, was exceedingly wroth at the
notion of Miss Fotheringay's marriage with a stripling seven or eight
years her junior. Bows, who was a cripple, and owned that he was a little
more deformed even than Bingley the manager, so that he could not appear
on the stage, was a singular wild man of no small talents and humour.
Attracted first by Miss Fotheringay's beauty, he began to teach her how
to act. He shrieked out in his cracked voice the parts, and his pupil
learned them from his lips by rote, and repeated them in her full rich
tones. He indicated the attitudes, and set and moved those beautiful arms
of hers. Those who remember this grand actress on the stage can recall
how she used always precisely the same gestures, looks, and tones; how
she stood on the same plank of the stage in the same position, rolled her
eyes at the same instant and to the same degree, and wept with precisely
the same heart-rending pathos and over the same pathetic syllable. And
after she had come out trembling with emotion before the audience, and
looking so exhausted and tearful that you fancied she would faint with
sensibility, she would gather up her hair the instant she was behind the
curtain, and go home to a mutton-chop and a glass of brown stout; and the
harrowing labours of the day over, she went to bed and snored as
resolutely and as regularly as a porter.

Bows then was indignant at the notion that his pupil should throw her
chances away in life by bestowing her hand upon a little country squire.
As soon as a London manager saw her he prophesied that she would get a
London engagement, and a great success. The misfortune was that the
London managers had seen her. She had played in London three years
before, and failed from utter stupidity. Since then it was that Bows had
taken her in hand and taught her part after part. How he worked and