-*i-»--Aij;?5J^'Ji£:--i' . .c
 
 a I E) RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 UNIVLRSITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 V.I
 
 JfcilU t/hdOtu^
 
 ^fz
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. EVANS BELL, 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1872. 
 
 7*^/ riciM of Ttf-amlation m reHrve*l.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " ^\7^0U really must excuse me. The other 
 
 -■- room is too dark. There's Punch 
 
 —and there's the Pall Mall" * 
 
 " Pray allow me to assist you." 
 
 " I'll only allow you to mind your own 
 
 business until my hair is done." 
 
 Mr. Haynes, a puffy little man, with large 
 head, fat cheeks, twinkling little grey eyes, 
 and an up-turned nose that made him irre- 
 sistible whenever he attempted low comedy, 
 obeyed, so far as to seat himself silently. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Esther then placed the looking-glass on 
 the dusty window silL Window blinds, win- 
 dow curtains, and window panes were as 
 dingy as the dingiest of Chancery Lane, 
 though this was not Chancery Lane. This 
 was number 190, Cecil Street, Strand. The 
 morning atmosphere, too, was dingy. It 
 always seemed dingy in Cecil Street, where 
 fog and Thames vapour formed the circum- 
 ambient air. A close, damp, mouldy smell 
 pervaded the whole house. The walls of 
 the room were of dubious tint, well serving 
 as ground for grease and dirt to paint fan- 
 tastic figures on. Near the door stood a 
 dilapidated sideboard, garnished with two 
 riveted decanters and an imperfect set of 
 old china tea-cups. On either side it was 
 balanced by chairs, — their mahogany backs, 
 dimmed by smudgy finger-marks, their well-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 6 
 
 worn horse-hair seats vainly attempting to 
 conceal the dusty flock protruding from each 
 corner. The carpet was an " imitation Tur- 
 key," the cotton introduced everywhere visi- 
 ble. The curtains — drab damask — smelt, as 
 they looked, full of dust. An arm-chair 
 and sofa were by the fireplace, but both 
 seemed so shaky and hatefully grimy that 
 Esther invariably sat in the cane-chair near 
 the table. Old cracked lustres and an or- 
 molu clock, permanently out of repair, orna- 
 mented the chimney-piece. Everything look- 
 ed as if just extracted from the underground 
 warehouse of some marine-store dealer, and 
 told of the shabby London lodging-house — 
 dark, dirty, greasy. But what matter ? The 
 radiance of the gayest Parisian salon, the 
 freshness of the freshest May morn, could 
 scarcely have added brilliancy to the girl 
 
 B 2
 
 4 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 before the looking-glass. Almost uncon- 
 scious of her visitor's presence, she stood, 
 running a tortoise-shell comb down the whole 
 length of her waving dark hair, raising it 
 now and then to watch its more golden 
 shades as each lock fell separately and 
 lightly, and finally arranging it as fantasti- 
 cally as a Sibyl's. For a moment, too, she 
 glanced with evident satisfaction at the rich 
 colouring of her complexion and the deli- 
 cate form of her rosy little hand. She was 
 scarcely nineteen, slim and supple as an 
 antelope, with grace as sudden and natural, 
 eyes as soft and gleaming. Their lashes 
 were so long and jetty, and when lowered 
 threw such deepening shadow that the flash 
 of their uprising came across you like light- 
 ning, and a peculiarly sad, yet sparkling 
 smile added almost Oriental mysteriousness
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 5 
 
 to her expression. A soft flowing dress of 
 purple merino defined rather than concealed 
 the serpentine lines of her figure ; and the 
 many-coloured Roman scarf, knotted just 
 above where her slender throat melted into 
 the falling shoulders, left carelessly exposed 
 the first lines of what artists name the collier 
 de Venus. But notwithstanding the airiness 
 of her form, and her mystical expression, a 
 certain firmness of outline accompan^dng the 
 tender fulness of her mouth, completed the 
 physiognomical type of a character swayed 
 alternately by fancy and reason. Artist to 
 the core, she could not help appreciating 
 her own beauty. Without the slightest 
 vanity, she congratulated herself on her 
 charms, althousrh lamentin^^ for the hun- 
 dredth time that her nose w^as decidedly 
 Jewish.
 
 6 ^ A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Mr. Haynes watched her. He watched 
 her in various ways. During the first five 
 minutes he eyed her as the sporting man 
 " reckons up " the filly that must win. In 
 the next five minutes he evidently detected 
 something to puzzle and alarm him. Her 
 eyes looked so very wide open. Finally 
 succeeded a sentimental observance, ending 
 in an impolite doze. 
 
 '' Wake up ! — I'm ready. Stop ! I must 
 have something to eat. Get out the bread. 
 No, no ! the cupboard half open — and that 
 jam-pot with Devonshire cream in it. I'll 
 be back in half a second." 
 
 She ran into the adjoining room, and re- 
 turned rubbing her liands on a rough brown 
 towel. 
 
 " Bah ! it hurts !" she exclaimed, as she 
 threw it down, substituting; her cambric
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 7 
 
 handkerchief. " Where are the plates and 
 why, that's my pomatum, not Devon- 
 shire cream. How stupid you are ! The 
 only way you can be utilized is to make 
 you come and eat too. I hate eating alone. 
 Don't take cream? Bant? Ah well! I 
 anti-Bant," and she half spanned her tiny 
 waist in justification of her regimen. "There's 
 some Bass in the cupboard." 
 
 Mr. Haynes declined Bass. 
 
 **Well, then, you must eat biscuits, or 
 stand outside until I've finished. Dear me ! 
 she's taken away the coifee. No, don't 
 ring. That girl's appearance is too dread- 
 ful. I can buy some lemonade on our road 
 there." 
 
 Esther's digestion must have been pretty 
 strong for so refined-looking a personage. 
 Slice after slice of bread and cream disap-
 
 8 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 pearcd, while Mr. Haynes, whose corpulent 
 tendency did not prevent his being an active 
 man of business, impatiently polished his 
 hat on his coat-sleeve. At last she donned 
 her walking attire, and the incongruous pair 
 left the house, and sped, Esther leading, at 
 a pace not over well suiting the gentleman, 
 down the Strand, up St. Martin's Lane, and 
 through St. Giles's to Shore Street, Bedford 
 Square. 
 
 "• What is she like ?" asked Esther, chari- 
 tably giving her companion a halt before 
 they came to an exceptionally dirty door. 
 
 " She's tall, awfully scraggy, poor old 
 lady ! — about seventy, according to the 
 Dramatic Society's books. They give her 
 twenty pounds a year — ^the Society does, I 
 mean ; but to her pupils she goes in for at 
 least ten years younger."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 9 
 
 " You are sure she is what I need ?" 
 
 ''Undoubtedly. Wh}^, she's taught Mrs. 
 Kean, Fanny Kemble, Macready, and all 
 the great ones, besides heaps of barristers 
 and the clergy. Wonderfully clever woman, 
 in no mistake, and quite the lady ; so you 
 needn't be afraid." 
 
 Esther gave a little laugh, and then re- 
 joined — 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Haynes, any friend of yours 
 must be unexceptionable !" 
 
 Haynes had a notion that he was being 
 ridiculed, but feeling perfectly confident 
 that his would be the winning side, the 
 laugh rang pleasantly rather than other- 
 wise. He knocked the most consequential 
 of rat-tats. 
 
 The fair curly head of a small, snub-nosed 
 boy, about twelve, and a piece of very dark
 
 10 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 linen, in the form of a night-shirt sleeve, 
 projected from an upper window. 
 
 '' Hallo, 'Aynes, is that you ? 'Old 'ard 
 a second, can't yer ? Gran'ma's frizzlin' our 
 bakin, an' I'm a-doin' the room." Then, 
 suddenly perceiving the young lady, " Oh ! 
 shivers !" he exclaimed, and bobbed out of 
 sight quicker than Toby in a Punch and 
 Judy show. 
 
 Esther told Mr. Haynes that he had for- 
 gotten her lemonade — she was so thirsty, 
 she really must buy some before paying her 
 visit. 
 
 "Tell him we shall be back in a quarter 
 of an hour." 
 
 "Tony !— Tony !" shouted Mr. Haynes. 
 
 Tony was too busy drinking scalding tea, 
 and dragging on his trousers, to re-appear. 
 
 " Tony, we'll be back in a few minutes."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 1 1 
 
 ''All right, 'ole feller," the boy shouted 
 from within. '* Don't you 'urry, now, for 
 my sake." 
 
 While Esther gets her lemonade, let us 
 take a look at Tony. At this moment he 
 stood casting a rapid glance round the little 
 square room, evidently in search of some- 
 thing. He lugged out the ragged chintz sofa, 
 dived under it, peeped behind the brown 
 box-ottoman which answered the double pur- 
 pose of seat and coal-cellar ; drew a half 
 bottomless cane chair to the left of the un- 
 swept hearth, and clambered up to a cup- 
 board — a wonderful cupboard, where im- 
 bedded in primeval dust lay old shoes, and 
 grandmamma's black net caps, with their 
 twopence-halfpenny-a-spray rose-buds. Why 
 do elderly ladies so much affect these em- 
 blems of youth and innocence? Two
 
 12 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 volumes of the London Stage ^ dog's-eared 
 and torn, lay partly opened by the side of a 
 remnant of cold steak from yesterday's din- 
 ner ; and far back, but not out of the 
 urchin's reach, a bottle, labelled ^ Genuine 
 Old Tom,' reared its tin-foiled head, three 
 parts emptied. To this he not only fas- 
 tened his pulpy little lips, but carefully fill- 
 ed therefrom a dingy phial concealed under 
 his waistcoat, for what purpose remains to 
 be seen. Ophelia's music, Maritana's tam- 
 bourine, together with quite a chiffonier's 
 heap of heterogeneous properties, were has- 
 tily rummaged over by his smudgy little 
 paws. 
 
 " Bother !" he at last exclaimed, scam- 
 pering into the dark passage outside, 
 and kicking violently at a closed door. 
 " Gran'ma ! I say, gran'ma ! What the
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 1 3 
 
 Dickens have you done with our brush and 
 my jacket? An' I can't find the wood, 
 yer know, an' she'll be back in a jiffy." 
 
 " Now, Tony, Tony !" cried a drawling 
 old voice, from the other side of the door, 
 at which he still continued kicking, "you 
 have not been upsetting my cupboard again, 
 surely ? I am coming with all possible ex- 
 pedition. There ! take that, chy And a 
 withered white hand thrust throus^h the 
 half opening door a plate of bread and 
 bacon, the remainder of the child's break- 
 fast. " And stop ! Here is your jacket ; two 
 entire hours was I last night repairing it. 
 And now be a good boy, do, and get the 
 room done." 
 
 " Well, gran'ma, " replied Tony, with 
 his mouth full, " there ain't no wood any- 
 how."
 
 14 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 " Dear, dear, Tony ; you will be my 
 death ! You never could have used the 
 whole bundle yesterday ?" 
 
 Now the previous night this young gen- 
 tleman had been dissipating ; and on return- 
 ing from his favourite haunt, the Soho 
 Theatre, wet through and exceedingly hun- 
 gry, he had not hesitated to rekindle the 
 fire, and, previously to retiring on tip-toe to 
 the nocturnal couch, to mix himself a glass 
 of something which he had remarked his 
 senior acquaintances found particularly so- 
 lacing. The nocturnal couch in this instance 
 was manufactured out of two chairs and an 
 old horse-rug, placed near the foot of his 
 grandmamma's four-poster. 
 
 "Well, there, gran'ma, I must have a bit 
 o' the box, then." 
 
 " Here, take it, you troublesome boy !"
 
 A FIEST APPEARANCE. 15 
 
 and the bony hand gave out a large band- 
 box, many a strip from which had already 
 provided the family firewood. A few minutes 
 afterwards, all was duly prepared. Tony's 
 busy little body gave place to the spare but 
 still upright form of the ci-devant tragedienTie', 
 and when grandmamma, arrayed in her 
 best black gown, a poor rusty garment not- 
 withstanding, with one of the before-men- 
 tioned caps over her iron-grey bands, majes- 
 tically seated herself before the small lec- 
 ture-like table, her faded but finely-formed 
 cheek resting on one hand, the other turning 
 the leaves of an old Shakspeare, her grand- 
 son knew an unmistakeable signal was given 
 for him to " get hisself cleaned," and behave 
 his best. 
 
 The visitors arrived. 
 
 " She is a stunner !" Tony exclaimed,
 
 16 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 curling himself up behind one of the green 
 baize curtains to observe Esther quietly. 
 
 " I shall get my terms this time," thought 
 Mrs. Staunton, cataloguing the articles of 
 her new pupil's toilette, while receiving her 
 with all the dignity of a leading lady. Not, 
 by-the-by, that Mrs. Staunton had any very 
 definite idea on the subject of terms ; hither- 
 to they had been as unfixed as an Irish 
 landlord's. In her own words, addressed 
 confidentially to her small factotum, Tony, 
 " She got what she could, and made it do." 
 
 Mr. Haynes, in his capacity of theatrical 
 agent, had already explained the object of 
 Esther's visit. She wanted lessons in elocu- 
 tion, and an especial preparation for a piece 
 to be performed on the fifteenth of the fol- 
 lowing month, before the great dramatic 
 author, Mr. Gerald. Upon that evening the
 
 ^ A FIRST APPEARANCE. 17 
 
 fair debutante was, according to Mr. Haynes 
 and the dramatic company of the Diamond 
 Theatre, consisting at that time for the most 
 part of amateurs, to " take London by 
 storm," and " set the Thames on fire." 
 
 After a few commonplace remarks, Esther 
 unfastened her cloak, and began to recite 
 her trial pieces — the "poisoning scene" of 
 Juliet, the study of which had many a time 
 given her the most horrid nightmare ; "The 
 quality of mercy ;" Lady Macbeth's " sleep- 
 ing scene," and one or two other equally 
 modest flights of elocution — all of which 
 Mrs. Staunton pronounced "Excellent in- 
 deed — charming, and without parallel." 
 
 "Then you really think I can get some- 
 thing up for the fifteenth ?" the girl asked 
 breathless, her cheeks burning with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 " Safe as the Bank, ray dear ! I'll work 
 you as many hours as you like." 
 
 " How extremely kind ! And you will 
 show me all about what I am to do, where I 
 am to stand, and my dress, and how I am 
 to paint myself; and you will come with me 
 to the rehearsals ; and you won't mind being 
 stage-manager; and you will prompt me, 
 and " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, be quite easy. You will 
 be all right, trust me. Will she not, Mr. 
 Haynes ? — will she not, Tony ?" 
 
 '' I should rather think so ! " cried the 
 latter ; " and she'll have no stage fright 
 either, I bet a tanner." Then, emerg- 
 ing from his corner, he walked close to 
 where Esther stood putting on her hat, 
 placed his arms akimbo, half closed his 
 babj blue eyes with a critical stare, and
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 19 
 
 exclaimed, *' You'll do, miss ! Splendid ! " 
 Mr. Haynes took his leave, returned 
 home, seated himself in his poky little 
 office at the back of a first floor in Bow 
 Street, and after telling some half-dozen 
 engagement-seeking supernumeraries he 
 would be at their service in one moment, 
 rapidly penned the following letter : — 
 
 * ' Dramatic Agency, 
 
 208, Bow Street, W.C. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I am glad we are not to be 
 kept waiting so long as I expected, and that 
 the piece is to be brought out before Christ- 
 mas. I think I have just hit on the girl we 
 want — a handsome young woman, scarcely 
 twenty, I should say, good voice, and lots 
 of ' go.' As she's hardly seen a play in her 
 life, she'll have picked up none of those 
 
 c 2
 
 20 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 stagy tricks you object to. No one knows 
 who she is, or anything about h.er. I doubt 
 if she's got a single friend in all London. 
 Run away from home or school, I suspect ; 
 something queer about her. Nothing fast 
 in her style, though — quite a novice. Thinks 
 no small beer of herself. Will look the 
 ' Venetian Countess' all over. If you think 
 it's wortl coming up about, I can let you 
 see her at the Soho in anything you like. 
 I've put her with Mrs. Staunton, who thinks 
 she's just the thing. If you w^ant a song or 
 two, she can manage it. By-the-by, she's 
 tall, thin— not scraggy, by any means — good 
 legs for breeches parts. Oblige by sending 
 answer as soon as possible. She's at me 
 every day to get her something. 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " W. Haynes.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 21 
 
 "P.S. — By-the-by, I suspect she's from 
 Ireland — -just the slightest accent. Mrs. 
 Staunton says she can take it out of her in 
 a week. 
 
 " To AHred Gerald, Esq., the Garrick Club."
 
 22 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 rjlHE sleeping apartment that " went 
 ^ with " the drawing-roon:i of number 
 190, was scarcely one in which a refined 
 young lady would care to linger. The 
 following morning was darker than ever. 
 A muggy shroud of fog, steeped with the 
 elements of rheumatism and influenza, en- 
 veloped the street. A chilling draught came 
 through the ill-fitting window at the head 
 of the young girl's narrow and insufficiently 
 covered bed, and another stronger but con- 
 trary current rushed up through the large
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 23 
 
 crevice under the door, from the passage 
 downstairs. She slept soundly, neverthe- 
 less, dreaming, perhaps, of the high slate 
 rocks she used to climb ; of the golden sands 
 so often imprinted by her snowy little feet ; 
 or perhaps once more feeling the gaze of 
 that pale, tearful countenance so lovingly 
 remembered from childhood — of that dark- 
 eyed lady, so noble in her melancholy that 
 even in a dream she could not believe her 
 the heartless outcast she had heard her de- 
 scribed. St. Clement's bells began to 
 chime. 
 
 " So late !" she cried, starting half out of 
 bed, and rubbing her eyes. "Those ever- 
 lasting bells going already ! Dong, dong, 
 dong ! — must have that incessant monotone, 
 I suppose, to be sanctified. No mass for me 
 to-day," she continued, as if addressing
 
 24 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 some one to whom sucli a determination 
 would have been a sore point. " No mass 
 for me next Sunday, nor the next, nor ever, 
 ever, ever ! Now, let me see," she con- 
 tinued, as she dressed herself. " What 
 shall I do to-day ? Oh ! mend my silk 
 petticoat. By-the-by, Betsy will be shocked 
 to see my needle flying in and out. ' What, 
 sew on a Sunday, Miss ! Law, ain't you 
 frightened ?' ' Are you afraid, Betsy, to 
 clean my grate ? Are you afraid to 
 cook my dinner, cook ? Are you afraid to 
 drive my horses, coachman ?' ' No, of 
 course not, ma'am ; we are only servants, 
 you know.' ^ Well then, you, lady, are 
 you afraid to dress three times to-day, 
 or to do a little diplomacy on behalf of 
 your spouse ?' ' What has that to do with 
 it? ^'In it thou shalt do no manner
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 25 
 
 of work " evidently means needle-work.' " 
 After this eminently unorthodox fashion 
 Esther rambled on, dressing as quickly as 
 ice-cold fingers would allow. Then she 
 opened a large black trunk, and counted 
 her money and her jewels, carefully setting 
 apart one little packet containing the colour- 
 ed photograph of a beautiful woman, in the 
 fancy costume of Queen Esther, set in a 
 diamond locket. After that she unlocked 
 a richly-inlaid desk, and drew forth a strip 
 of an advertisement sheet of the Times, 
 from that part called the " Agony " column. 
 It had evidently been extracted for some 
 special purpose, though why she turned her 
 eyes so steadily away, as she placed it near 
 at hand on the dressing-table, no one hear- 
 ing that laugh of hers could possibly have 
 guessed. Then she stepped into the adjoin-
 
 26 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ing room, faint for want of breakfast. The 
 maid of all work, for whose inattendance 
 the young lodger paid so dearly, had been 
 desired to have breakfast prepared by nine 
 o'clock. It was now nearly eleven, but no 
 sign of it appeared. A good fire, however, 
 was blazing, probably more from regard 
 to the sale of sixpenny scuttles of coal than 
 from any kinder consideration, for Mrs. 
 Hedger, the landlady, ''never thought much 
 o' them hactresses, and didn't know as she 
 should let this one stop, if she give 'erself 
 hairs like a lady." 
 
 Betsy, however, a good-natured, over- 
 worked drudge, had tried "to be friendly 
 like, an' would have put 'er up to what sort 
 of a missus she'd got, an' what a larky man 
 was master," but she had been silenced ab- 
 ruptly by, "I require nothing more. You
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 27 
 
 can go," — spoken as " she'd never been 
 spoke to in the whole course on 'er life." 
 
 Altogether Esther was not likely to find 
 her present abode particularly congenial, but 
 she was still less likely to leave it, for 
 during the fortnight she had been in Lon- 
 don she had made many experiences, and 
 not the least painful had been that which 
 taught her the almost utter impossibility of 
 a pretty, well-dressed young lady, without 
 a reference, obtaining respectable apart- 
 ments. On second thoughts she did not 
 ring for breakfast, but patiently paced up 
 and down the room, one of Lacy's plays in 
 her hand, until the servant chose to bring 
 it. Then what coffee ! — what eggs ! Mrs. 
 Poyser sa3^s there are some places where 
 one can only eat an egg or a nut. Number 
 190, Cecil Street, was a place where one
 
 28 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 could not eat an egg. It required another 
 forced laugh to reconcile Esther to those 
 viands, but she kept up her spirits until they 
 were cleared away. Then she rose, and re- 
 turned thoughtfully to the bedroom, whence 
 she soon issued, with the advertisement 
 sheet before alluded to. During ten min- 
 utes she sat by the fire motionless, grasping 
 the paper in her hands with an angry, ner- 
 vous clutch, as if it were a thing possessing 
 secret power over her, and fixing her eyes 
 upon a rocky cavern in the fire, as though 
 she feared one glance at what she held 
 might emancipate some hidden fiend. The 
 longer she sat brooding there, the sterner 
 and darker grew her countenance, the more 
 forced and hurried came her breath. At 
 last, with compressed lips and an evident 
 determination to be strong, she pushed
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 29 
 
 back the chair, rose to her full height, and 
 read once more the following advertise- 
 ment : — 
 
 "' Esther, I am very ill. All shall be for- 
 given. Come home, I implore you ! At 
 least write to me. But come home, come 
 home, 7ny child r 
 
 •On those two final words her eyes paused. 
 They conquered her ; and, with a sob fit to 
 break her heart she fell back into her chair. 
 The anguish restrained by those short spas- 
 modic laughs found vent in a paroxysm of 
 tears. Nevertheless she looked less pitiable 
 in her weeping than when she laughed. 
 At last, with the effort of one nearly ex- 
 hausted, she lifted herself up, and, half 
 reeling, went to plunge her head, with all 
 its wealth of ringlets, into a bowl of water. 
 Half an hour elapsed, by which time she
 
 30 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 had returned calm, but very white, and 
 with an expression almost sullen. She 
 placed her desk near the window, and as 
 best she could under the disadvantage of 
 the ever-yellowing thickening fog, wrote the 
 following letter : — 
 
 " I have seen your advertisement, and 
 
 • 
 
 out of respect to the relationship you bear 
 my mother, I reply. ' Return home ' — 
 where is home ? With my mother. Where 
 is she ? And what is to be forgiven ? My 
 nature is out of harmony with yours, and 
 by rejecting me and repudiating her, you 
 have rendered discord permanent. It will 
 be utterly vain to seek me. I will never 
 return." 
 
 She then addressed an envelope, and, 
 notwithstanding the weather, threw on her
 
 AFIKST APPEABANCE. 31 
 
 cloak, and hurried across the deserted Strand 
 to the post-office. 
 
 Another person of equally tempestuous 
 temperament, but infinitely more experi- 
 enced, or, as he would have called it, "wide 
 awake," chanced to be wending his way 
 down the street at precisely the same mo- 
 ment. This was the sturdy urchin, Tony. 
 
 " Hallo ! Miss Cowen," he shouted, tug- 
 ging at her waterproof suddenly enough to 
 startle any young lady's heart into her mouth, 
 however steadily lodged in her thorax. 
 "How dye do to-day? I should say it's 
 awful foggy for you to be out. Yer know 
 no voice 'uU stand this. Why," he con- 
 tinued, clearing his throat with manly en- 
 ergy, "it's more than mine can. Look, yer 
 can cut it. I say, an' the blacks too ! Is 
 my face black? Yours is. There's a wop-
 
 32 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 pin' smudge this side o' yer nose. No, t'other 
 side. Here, let me !" 
 
 And with the polite intention of erasing 
 the disfigurement, Tony moistened his pudgy 
 forefinger on his wet lip. 
 
 " Thanks, but 1 prefer my handkerchief," 
 Esther replied, laughing. 
 
 "Here, then," said Tony, determined to 
 be of importance one way or another. " I'll 
 take that letter for yer. Then yer won't 
 'ave to cross in the mud, yer know. Post it 
 safe, 'pon honour I Wait a second." 
 
 He snatched the letter, read its address, 
 made a mental note of it, posted it, and re- 
 crossed the road in two minutes. 
 
 " Now, I say, let's walk home with yer ? 
 Will yer ? I hate Sundays ! I don't know 
 what to do with myself. It's so awful glum. 
 Yer wasn't goin' to meet any feller, was yer?"
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 33 
 
 "No, indeed," Esther replied, rather 
 relishing her small cavalier's precocious im- 
 pudence. 
 
 '' Gran ma's givin' little Foster a lesson 
 this afternoon. I don't like that srirl. Don't 
 
 o 
 
 you 'ave anythink to do with her. She's 
 sure to take yer in, yer know. I say, how 
 long 'ave yer known Haynes ?" 
 
 "Longer than I have known a saucy boy 
 who asks saucy questions." 
 
 " Well, ye've no occasion to answer if yer 
 don't like. You may ask me anythink. 
 Shall I tell yer what gran'raa says of yer ? " 
 
 "Certainly not. But you may tell me 
 who you are, if you like, and how you 
 occupy all the days of your life ?" 
 
 " Whew !" ejaculated the child, with a 
 half-whistle, and drawins^ his sleeve slowlv 
 across his curl-covered forehead. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ^^Ye've ast me more at one go than I 
 could 'ave ast you in an 'undred, or 'ave 'ad 
 the imperdence to, either." 
 
 " But you volunteered to answer my 
 questions — indeed you provoked them your- 
 self." 
 
 " An' so I did. Well ?" Tony paused ; 
 then gabbled, faster than Patter versus 
 Clatter, 
 
 " ' Anthony Staunton is my name, 
 London is my nation, 
 Gran'ma's is my dwellin' place. 
 An' wittles my salvation.' 
 
 Go on. Ask somethink else." 
 " How old are you ?" 
 '^ Fourteen. Fourteen next September." 
 " You mean thirteen a month ago ?" 
 '' Yes. Well, go on." 
 " Can you read and write?"
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 35 
 
 " Fust-rate. There — that's my 'andwritin'. 
 Look at it." 
 
 A rhyme scribbled at the foot of a boldly- 
 sketched caricature was suddenly jerked out 
 of his ragged pocket. 
 
 "That's my drawin' too; an', I say," he 
 added, stopping still, and putting his arms 
 akimbo in a favourite pose^ "wouldn't yer 
 like to see me hact, that's all ? Lor ! if I 
 was only a little older! Well, go on." 
 
 " Who is your father ?" 
 
 " Dead." 
 
 " And your mother ?" 
 
 The cliild's countenance fell. He turned 
 scarlet, rubbed his forehead, and again 
 cleared his throat. 
 
 " Well ! It's awful foggy, ain't it ? Oh ! 
 yer know, mam's a jolly ole gal, she is, she 
 used to sew or make brushes. Ain't over- 
 
 D 2
 
 36 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 strong jest now. Weather's against 'er. I 
 say, now, never you mind talkin' to gran'ma 
 about 'er. Them two's like cats, you know." 
 
 "All right," replied Esther, imitating her 
 companion's bluntness. " This is where I 
 live. Good-bye. Here, go and buy some 
 oranges." 
 
 "No. I don't want no money, bless yer! 
 Got lots, I 'ave !" 
 
 And he rattled some halfpence against an 
 old clasp-knife and an alley taw in his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 He made off a few steps, whistling his 
 loudest. But before Esther's knock had 
 been answered he was at her elbow once 
 more. 
 
 " Oh ! I say, I think I will jest borrow 
 that there shillin' after all. Look 'ere, I'll
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 37 
 
 f 
 
 give it yer back soon, I will, 'pon my say so. 
 I — I don't 'appen to 'ave much change about 
 me. 
 
 " Very well," said Esther, giving it to him, 
 and entering the house considerably enliven- 
 ed by this little encounter.
 
 38 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TTOUNG people of passionate terapera- 
 -^ ment frequently enjoy solitude to an 
 extent that would be intolerable to the 
 older and more sedate. Esther was so 
 fully absorbed in defining the imaginings 
 and aspirations of her newly emancipated 
 thought, that the pity her loneliness began 
 to excite in the matter-of-fact maid-of-all- 
 work was unmerited. Each morning of 
 the ensuing month found her at Mrs. 
 Staunton's, assiduously following the tra- 
 gedian's instruction, reproducing her intona-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE 39 
 
 tions and gesticulation with an exactness 
 only true genius for mimicry could have 
 attained. But once the technicalities of her 
 parts mastered, out of sight would vanish 
 all trace of the stagy old model, and the 
 original conception of the young pupil burst 
 forth in unshackled individuality.. At this 
 time Esther was overflowing with the ex- 
 aggerated hopes of early youth. She had 
 no experience from which to calculate 
 obstacles or dangers. Nothing appeared 
 before her but success in a career brilliant 
 as a rainbow. She saw herself the regene- 
 rator of the Drama, the impersonation of 
 many a great poet's dream ; and, beyond 
 and above all, she pictured the blissful 
 moment when in an idolized artist her 
 mother should recognise the child, still in 
 memory her own little pupil. She wa'^ not
 
 40 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 i'ond of looking back ; and if occasionally a 
 retrospective thought threatened her, she 
 would invite her new friend Tony to tea, or 
 ask Mrs. Staunton to accompany her to one 
 of those amateur theatres where her pupils 
 practised ; or she would even talk to Betsy, 
 rather than allow herself to feel sad. Why 
 she should feel sad, some account of her 
 antecedents may explain. 
 
 Esthers grandfather, Mr. O'KeefFe, was 
 an Irishman among Irishmen, and a Catholic 
 among Catholics. He had never quitted 
 his native Kerry but once. That was for 
 the purpose of making a pilgrimage to 
 Rome. However, when his only son, 
 Esther's father, came of age, he sent him 
 abroad with a French gentleman whose 
 l^iety was supposed to be extremely ortho- 
 dox. But beneath Monsieur Trouville's
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 41 
 
 apparent austerity coursed a deep current 
 of advanced liberalism, the more impetuous 
 for being restrained by the necessities of 
 his position. He, unfortunately, had no 
 money. He had never had money. But 
 he had an ao^ed father, lonuj since exiled 
 for political offence, a vivacious little Eng- 
 lish wife, and two petits amours of children. 
 These were the innocent causes of that un- 
 conscionable hypocrisy which had induced 
 him to assume a severity of manner that led 
 to his selection from out a hundred or more 
 applicants to the travelling tutorship of 
 young Olveeffe. He thought it no crime to 
 please O'Keeffe senior after O'Keeffe senior's 
 own fashion ; and by the same tactics he 
 subsequently succeeded in winning the en- 
 tire confidence of O'Keeffe junior. 
 
 Rome was the travellers' first destination. 
 
 t^
 
 42 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 There the pious youth did homage at the 
 Vatican, received the Papal benediction, 
 kissed Cardinal's rings, presented candles 
 to the Virgin, and admired the pretty girls 
 in the Gorso. They next went to Naples ; 
 but here, even to one reared by Irish 
 priests, the superstitions seemed too coarse, 
 especially when exposed, as they ruthlessly 
 were, in the full glare of Monsieur Trou- 
 ville's gay sarcasm. The ladies, too, shocked 
 him, as much by their ignorance and dissi- 
 pation as the peasant-women charmed him 
 by their beauty and unsophisticatedness. 
 On his way home he visited Vienna. Its 
 society charmed him ; but instead of at- 
 tending mass, he now loitered about the 
 entrances only of the chapels, snatching 
 tender glances from young ladies accom- 
 panying their mammas with such apparent
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 43 
 
 demiireness. Only between the hours of 
 eleven and twelve — when, as his tutor re- 
 marked, those sanctified places seemed con- 
 verted into cages of love-birds — was young 
 O'KeeiFe ever found at his devotions ; and 
 then they were paid, not to one virgin in 
 the abstract, but to several virgins in the 
 flesh. But notwithstanding that he appre- 
 ciated feminine beauty with true Irish fer- 
 vour, he had never yet fallen seriously in 
 love. A young Sorrentine maiden, who 
 had half infatuated him, quenched the 
 growing flame by anticipating the avowal of 
 his passion in an ardent declaration of her 
 own. A charming Viennese flung away her 
 good fortune by acknowledging she had de- 
 tailed his sweet nothings to her priest. After 
 this the confessional appeared indeed an ab- 
 surdity. In Paris he complained that ladies
 
 44 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 wore sentiment on their lips instead of in 
 their hearts. Moreover, the unmarried wo- 
 men were mere nonentities, and his tutor, 
 tliough he might undermine his religious 
 notions, carefully guarded him from any- 
 thing approaching an illicit intrigue. The 
 scene of his grand passion was destined to 
 b3 London. He had scarcely arrived there 
 wlien he received an invitation to spend a 
 few days at his banker's. Mr. Cohen had 
 a charming house, frequented, according to 
 report, by all the most distinguished literary 
 men and artists of the metropolis. 
 
 Monsieur Trouville warned his pupil 
 that the Cohens were Jews, and very strict 
 Jews ; but, the epistolary homilies of his 
 parents notwithstanding, Harry O'Keeffe 
 had become quite liberal in his ideas. He 
 laughed at Monsieur Trouville's affected
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 45 
 
 scruples, and replied, " they would make 
 it all right with the governor by declaring 
 they merely went as missionaries." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Cohen had two children, 
 Rachel and Samuel. Rachel was scarcely 
 eighteen, but everyone was already dwell- 
 ing on her beauty and talent. She sang 
 exquisitely, and had already written literary 
 scraps of considerable promise. Indeed, she 
 filled the whole house with freshness and 
 vivacity. Although guarded with unusual 
 care, more than one love declaration had 
 already reached her. It was decided by 
 her mother, however, that she was not to 
 think of marriage for at least six years, and 
 then Mrs. Cohen would think for her of a 
 certain " fromni '" young relative of the 
 great Schwartzschild family. With this 
 young lady Harry O'Keeife fell passionately
 
 46 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 in love. Rachel herself wavered, though 
 not a little impressed by the brilliant young 
 Irishman, for the ties of kin and religion 
 were so strong that, probably, had her 
 mother shown ordinary tact in her manage- 
 ment, she might have conquered even such 
 an all-absorbing weakness as first love. 
 Unfortunately, however, no sooner had Mrs. 
 Cohen perceived the state of affairs — she 
 was far too watchful and penetrating not 
 to perceive it — she peremptorily forbade the 
 "treacherous, hypocritical, abominable young 
 Jesuit " the house, and hunted her daughter 
 from room to room, inquiring, in no dulcet 
 tones, "what on earth she could be think- 
 ing of, to bring shame on all belonging to 
 her, by even dreaming of one of a race that 
 had for hundreds of years persecuted their 
 people, — a race of Pagans, who worshipped
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 47 
 
 dolls and toys, and had ever made it their 
 chief duty to ill-use the chosen of God ! 
 She, a Cohen, to degrade herself and her 
 parents by even a thought of a Christian, to 
 bring an ineffaceable stain on the pure blood 
 of one of the most illustrious families in 
 Israel !" and so on. Exceedingly wroth was 
 poor Mrs. Cohen ; and what was worse, she 
 made her high-spirited daughter exceed- 
 ingly wroth also, and most miserable be- 
 sides ; and, as a natural consequence, a 
 thousand times more determinedly in love 
 than ever. 
 
 Of this aifair young O'Keeffe sent no 
 hint to his parents. He confided in Mon- 
 sieur Trouville alone ; and the good-natured 
 Frenchman was so tickled at the idea of a 
 staunch bigot's son wedding an Israelitish 
 maiden, and so full of sympathy with the
 
 48 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 reckless earnestness of his pupil's passion, 
 and the truly loveable nature of the young 
 girl, that he offered little obstacle to so 
 anomalous a union ; and, finally, was even 
 induced to assist in its accomplishment. 
 Each lover seemed determined to sacrifice 
 to the other. Rachel wished to turn Catho- 
 lic ; O'Keeffe wished to rush off to Holland, 
 and use all efforts to enter the most inac- 
 cessible of religious communities. Rachel 
 would be married by a priest ; O'KeeflPe 
 by a Rabbi. Monsieur Trouville, better 
 acquainted with English law, decided for 
 the lady, with this difference only, that the 
 priest was to be of the Established Church. 
 One morning, therefore, they were mar- 
 ried privately by special license ; and be- 
 fore O'KeeflPe could summon couraw to 
 broach the circumstance to his parents, his
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 49 
 
 father died. In the house of Cohen, Ra- 
 chel's name was heard no more. She was 
 looked upon as one of the dead. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 50 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TN the first year of their marriage Esther 
 -^ was born ; and during several ensuing 
 years their happiness was complete. Reli- 
 gious differences never troubled them. The 
 old French tutor continued their most inti- 
 mate friend, and, accompanied by his wife 
 and their two sturdy boys, invariably spent 
 the greater part of his holidays with them. 
 Little Esther, a dark-eyed, round-faced, rosy 
 child, loved Felix and Louis more than all 
 the rest of her friends put together ; for 
 Louis would take her out fishing and boat-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 51 
 
 ing, and Felix had been the first to call her 
 "Esther," her first name "Baby" having 
 been retained until she was old enough 
 to feel extreme though silent indignation 
 thereat. 
 
 She was nearly eight years old when 
 one evening she accompanied her mother 
 and father on their usual ride through the 
 poor little village of Cahirciveen. It was 
 hard work for her tiny wrists to hold in her 
 pretty pony whilst her mother stopped to ask 
 after Bridget Morane's baby, still harder 
 work to gather up the folds of her pretty 
 green habit and scramble down his sleek 
 side, to help young Pat Morane, aged seven, 
 to tie him to the post in the bog before his 
 mother's cabin. But Mrs. O'KeefFe told 
 Bridget to let the little ones enjoy the task, 
 and rode on to ask Mr. O'KeefFe to wait while 
 
 E 2 
 
 &^ona.NO.s,
 
 52 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Esther distributed some cakes and pence 
 among the shoeless urchins rapidly collect- 
 ing around. 
 
 Mrs. O'Keeffe was within a few paces 
 of her husband's high-spirited mare, when 
 a tall dark gentleman suddenly crossed 
 her path, and with rage on his countenance, 
 and an ejaculation very like a curse, spat on 
 the ground which her husband had just 
 passed over. Recognising the face of the 
 stranc^er as that of her brother Samuel she 
 uttered a sharp short scream. O'Keeffe at- 
 tempted to rein in the mare quickly, she 
 reared and plunged, and finally succeeded 
 in pitching her rider headlong down the ad- 
 jacent ravine. 
 
 He was taken up insensible, with con- 
 cussion of the brain, and his spine slightly 
 injured. For days he lay either uncon-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 53 
 
 scious or delirious at the nearest inn. His 
 half frantic wife, told that the excitement 
 of her presence might ruin his chance 
 of recover}', dared not insist on remaining 
 by his side, even though she had to endure 
 the pain and mortification of finding him, un- 
 der the influence of some nascent delusion, 
 insist upon retaining the village priest, Father 
 Shane, in almost constant attendance. After 
 some weeks, bodily health seemed to return, 
 but his mental vigour was still impaired, and 
 his temper totally perverted. Towards his 
 wife especially liis feelings seemed strangely 
 altered. He avoided all confidential inter- 
 course, and evidently regarded her with 
 soDie incomprehensible suspicion. 
 
 The priest, who had now gained a footing in 
 the household, was the same who had given 
 him his early education. Father Shane soon
 
 54 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 became a daily visitor, reading or praying 
 for hours with the invalid, and taking every 
 opportunity of impressing on his mind that 
 his accident was a direct visitation from the 
 Almighty for his inexpiable crime in marry- 
 ing an infidel. He considered every sug- 
 gestion to the detriment of Mrs. O'Keeffe 
 justified by religious zeal, and counselled the 
 feeble penitent to devote every hour to some 
 mortification or pious exercise, in the hope 
 of working out not only his own salvation, 
 but also the conversion of his wife. By 
 degrees all their former amusements 
 were relinquished ; one by one all their 
 liberal friends, including Monsieur Trouville, 
 were discarded. Bigots and priests sur- 
 rounded him. To the most rigid fasts, the 
 severest degradations and penances, he sub- 
 mitted himself, body and soul. From Mrs.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 55 
 
 O'Keeffe he strove to exact the cruelest sacri- 
 fices, subjecting her to hourly exhortations 
 or denunciations, forcing her to forego each 
 innocent recreation, for, as he said, " her 
 soul's sake," — in fact, treating her altogether 
 so injuriously that at last, in pure charity, 
 she was oblio;ed to believe that illness had 
 affected his mind. For a considerable time 
 she endured all with lamb-like patience, 
 hoping that restored health would bring back 
 his former habits. 
 
 Meanwhile, she avoided occasions of dis- 
 pute, and solaced her wounded affections by 
 devoting herself all the more tenderly to 
 their little daughter. But soon Esther be- 
 came an object of dissension. Father, friends, 
 and priests insisted on the child being bap- 
 tised. The Jewess openly resented the mere 
 idea of such a profanation ; but subsequently
 
 56 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Esther underwent the ceremony, and Mrs. 
 O'Keeife had to console herself by thinking 
 that an act her child had gone through per- 
 force, and without the slightest conscious- 
 ness on her part, could not materially affect 
 her future faith. But henceforth she deter- 
 mined more earnestly than ever to begin 
 without delay to show Esther the ab- 
 surdities of Catholic superstition, and stren- 
 uously endeavoured to secure her against 
 priestcraft by a special training of her own 
 in what she considered pure religion. 
 
 At eight years old Esther was, as has 
 been described, merely a rosy, dark-eyed 
 little thing, but in the following year she 
 altered wonderfully. Her chubby face 
 changed to a grave, pale oval ; her eyes 
 appeared disproportionately large ; she 
 grew tall, thin, and angular. The change
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 57 
 
 that crossed her mother's life already cloud- 
 ed hers, and with the first gush of her 
 mother's tears the child seemed to expand 
 into a girl. She began to think, and to 
 think after this fashion — 
 
 " Why does mamma cry ? She never 
 plays with me now. Perhaps she cried 
 because papa's ill; but no ! papa is well now. 
 Why does she go on crying, then? — I do so 
 wish she would sing about Jenny Wren. 
 No! not Jenny; I like the pig best, that 
 goes ' Hunc, hunc, hunc !' How still it is up 
 here! — I wish they would come and play 
 with me. I should like a noise, I think. 
 Father Shane's having dinner with papa. 
 They won't ring for me to be taken down 
 to dessert. I wish he would never, never 
 come to dinner. I can't make out what he 
 makes me learn. Oh, isn't that a dreadful
 
 58 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 tale he told me? The Devil, who has 
 great, big sharp horns and a tail — such a 
 tail! And he burns people! He'll come 
 for me, if I'm naughty. He did once come 
 for a little girl, nearly nine years old, with 
 large black eyes, and a mamma just like 
 mine, because she didn't say her Aves. Oh, 
 mustn't she have been frightened ? Mamma 
 says I'm not to say Aves ; and Father Shane 
 says I must tell him all mamma says ; and 
 mamma says I'm not to ; and I shan't, oh I 
 shant ! Perhaps I'm wicked. Perhaps 
 some night when mamma's kissed me and 
 gone to bed, and I'm quite, quite alone, 
 perhaps hell come, with his great big pointed 
 horns, and his great big fiery eyes, and his 
 great big wagging long black tail, and a 
 pitchfork. Perhaps he'd come behind — 
 slow — slow — slow, with wide great strides
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 59 
 
 like the seven-leagae boots. And he has a 
 cloven foot ! — what is a cloven foot ? And 
 he's nothing^ but claws for toes. Then his 
 breath would spurt out, all like burning 
 flames, and then — in a second he'd snatch 
 up my soul, that's inside me like, and 
 burn me in the dark deep pit of — of — 
 stuff like matches. Mamma says it's all a 
 wicked story. Mamma says there isn't a 
 devil, and I know mamma knows. But oh, 
 I do so wish she'd sleep with me. Then 
 I shouldn't have to cover my head up when 
 it's hot. I won't say my Aves, though — 
 oh ! I very nearly saw him one night." 
 
 With her mother's help, Esther soon 
 overcame her childish terrors. Her dislike 
 of Father Shane she never overcame, and 
 by the time she was ten she had grown 
 courageous enough to openly disobey him.
 
 60 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Her mother had become her religion, the 
 faith for which she would have undergone 
 martyrdom. Imagine, then, her feelings 
 when one morning she found herself rudely 
 snatched from her side, and seated alone 
 in a railway-carriage on the dreadful priest's 
 knee. She had seen trains whirl along the 
 railroad at the foot of the hill on which her 
 home was built. Her mother had fre- 
 quently explained their purpose and con- 
 struction, but on entering the first long 
 dark tunnel it was impossible for her to 
 restrain her fright. All her childish terror 
 returned ; she thought she must be going 
 to that dreadful place where children 
 went who did not repeat "Aves." Father 
 Shane began to look " almost " as if he 
 had horns. " Mamma, mamma !" she 
 shrieked, ao;ain and ac^ain. The tunnel
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 6 1 
 
 passed, she grew silent. The rumble, the 
 darkness, the shrill whistle, the shaking, 
 the sparks, the smoke, all were gone, and 
 the warm sun came beaming down on 
 velvety meadows and bright green lanes. 
 But to no attempt to amuse her would she 
 pay the slightest attention. She crouched 
 motionless in her corner, white as a sheet, 
 and crying without ceasing. 
 
 The object of this journey was to deposit 
 her in the convent of the " Good Shepherd," 
 for the completion of her education ; and 
 there Father Shane left her, under the care 
 of its kind gentle Abbess. But no endea- 
 vour of Abbess, nuns, or merry little pupils 
 could comfort Esther. During three entire 
 weeks she wept unintermittingly. She 
 would not eat, or take the shghtest interest 
 in anything about her. She kept perpetual-
 
 62 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ly asking for her niamnia, until her little 
 voice had no more strength to pronounce 
 the word. 
 
 Meanwhile the as^onv and indiojnation of 
 Mrs. O'KeefFe knew no bounds. She at 
 once flew to her husband, but he positively 
 refused to see her alone. Then she openly 
 and passionately upbraided him with cruelty, 
 imbecility, madness ; and in his very pre- 
 sence denounced Father Shane as the per- 
 verter of her husband and the kidnapper of 
 her child. 
 
 Provoked in his turn, Mr. O'KeeiFe taunt- 
 ed her with her Jewish origin, reminded her 
 that the nuptial benediction of the Holy 
 Catholic Church had never been pronounced 
 over them, attributing to that fatal deficiency 
 all the recent disasters and misery. Mrs. 
 O'KeefFe, insufficiently acquainted with Ro-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 63 
 
 man canon law to draw the fine distinc- 
 tions her husband and his priestly advis- 
 ers made between an unblessed and an^ 
 invalid marriage, imagined that he in- 
 tended to repudiate their marriage on re- 
 ligious grounds, and losing all patience at 
 the supposed outrage, she demanded an 
 immediate separation and the restitution 
 of Esther. 
 
 After a few days the priest was 
 deputed to inform her that the first 
 part of her request could only be granted 
 on condition she should legally bind her- 
 self to forego all further claim on, or 
 communication with, her daughter. This 
 she of course vowed never to do. Rather, 
 she said, should they kill her than extort 
 such condition. In her frenzy she ap- 
 pealed to her own relations. They refus-
 
 64 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ed to know her, and her letters were re- 
 turned unopened. Her brother Samuel, 
 however, made aware of the large part 
 his sudden apparition had played in ren- 
 dering that home miserable, grew some- 
 what amenable to pity — so far at least that 
 he informed her of the power legally re- 
 tained over the child, and how utterly 
 powerless she was as a married woman. 
 
 " Oh, Samuel, then get her for me any 
 way! Find her! Steal her! Anything. 
 I will do whatever you like. She shall 
 be a Jewess. She is one. Already I 
 have taught her our sacred law. Already 
 she despises the mummeries of priests. 
 Oh, take her to your hearts, though I am 
 an outcast. She is one of us. One of us 
 in every feature. One of us to the 
 
 core.''
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 65 
 
 This her brother, weeping with com- 
 passion, assured her was impossible. 
 
 But as she steadily refused to return to 
 her husband, or take any steps towards a 
 legal separation, under such barbarous 
 conditions, Samuel consented to meet her 
 in London, and see her safely located in 
 the house of her most intimate friend, 
 Madame Trouville. Monsieur Trouville 
 never ceased blaming himself for the share 
 he had taken in promoting the unhappy 
 union. He promised to seek information re- 
 garding little Esther, and to devise means, 
 if possible, for restoring her to her mo- 
 ther. He was as inveterate against Father 
 Shane as Mrs. O'KeefFe, but, ''after all," 
 he said, "it is not so much the child, as 
 its father's wealth they wish to retain." 
 Then he went to Ireland, trusting his old 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 Q6 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 established influence might bring O'KeeiFe 
 to some more reasonable settlement of 
 the question ; but Trouville's time was 
 gone, and no argument could his former 
 pupil be brought to see, except in the 
 distorted light of bigotry. Trouville con- 
 sequently returned home unsatisfied, but 
 more than ever determined to protect Mrs. 
 O'Keeife, and aid her in recovering Esther. 
 
 " Oh, you will never, never find her !" 
 sobbed the poor lady, falling back in the 
 arm-chair Mrs. Trouville had arranged 
 for her. 
 
 '' Betise ! You think Cork big enough 
 to hide her? I tell you London is not. 
 Be calm, Madame ; I promise she shall 
 come in one week at least — I mean one 
 week at most." 
 
 " No ! no ! they have sent her far away,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 67 
 
 where God knows how she may be fright- 
 ened and ill-used. My poor little darling ! 
 Oh, Esther, little Esther, where, where are 
 you?" and, like her biblical name-sake 
 Rachel, she continued weeping and refused 
 to be comforted. 
 
 The Trouvilles sat up talking long after 
 she had retired. They were mixed up in a 
 serious affair, protecting a run-away wife, 
 and plotting how to surreptitiously get hold 
 of a 3^oung child. But they were firm 
 friends, and allowed no fears of social re- 
 sponsibility to influence them. Until the 
 small hours of night tolled, they talked on, 
 the result being that Mrs. O'Keeffe became 
 their guest for an indefinite time. Mr. 
 Trouville was now editor of an influential 
 newspaper, and to make the arrangement 
 more comfortable to Mrs. O'Keeffe, it was 
 
 f2
 
 68 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ultimately suggested that she should bring 
 her literary powers into play for her hosts' 
 benefit, and thus prevent any feeling of 
 obligation mingling with their intercourse.
 
 69 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 11 TEANWHILE Esther became so ill that 
 ^^^ her father was summoned. The 
 physician he brought with him said restor- 
 ation to her mother would be the best 
 prescription. The advice was not follow- 
 ed, but Esther was removed from the con- 
 vent, and placed under the more congenial 
 care of Mrs. Kenny, a relative of Father 
 Shane's, who had, until failing health 
 obliged her to resign, superintended a large 
 Catholic boarding-school. Father Shane 
 lived in her house, for Mrs. Kenny found
 
 70 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 it convenient to divide her expenses. She 
 was a widow, and, like most belongings 
 of the Irish clergy, but ill-provided for. 
 She was a tender-hearted woman, whom 
 suffering had rendered sympathetic ; and 
 she possessed the knack of winning child- 
 ren's confidence. 
 
 The moment Esther looked up at that 
 soft, pale countenance, and met its mild 
 grey eyes, she felt she was with a friend. 
 Her reserve was broken, and thenceforward 
 she gradually gained strength. O'Keeffe pre- 
 ferred this second arrangement, since it 
 enabled him to see Esther constantly. 
 Every week he drove to Mrs. Kenny's, 
 carrying toys and trifles enough to win 
 the affections of a dozen children, but 
 the relationship of father and child 
 could never be heartily re-established.
 
 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 71 
 
 Esther regarded him with fear and sus- 
 picion, since he, she conjectured, had com- 
 bined with Father Shane — how, she knew 
 not — to make away with her mamma ; and 
 though she broke through her reserve 
 with Mrs. Kenny, on one topic she per- 
 sisted in remaining silent, that of her 
 mother's teaching. Nothing could induce 
 her to repeat one word of their well-re- 
 membered conversations ; these she hoard- 
 ed and brooded over in secret, anxiously 
 listening to every remark that touched up- 
 on her mother, and more determined than 
 ever to keep to her tenets. 
 
 Father Shane's directions she found tire- 
 some enough, still, when desired by her 
 father, she confessed, — everything but those 
 precious hidden memories which remained 
 ever burning within her. In studies she
 
 72 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 progressed fairly, yet she was glad enough 
 when lessons ended, and she could go 
 scampering where she liked on " Bess," 
 her little white pony, or sit playing by 
 Mrs. Kenny, striving to elicit, with girlish 
 cunning, some gossip that might touch on 
 her mother. Early sorrow tended much 
 to her precocious development, and by the 
 time she was fourteen she had diplomati- 
 cally drawn from her kind governess the 
 sad story of her parents* disagreement. 
 Regularity, active exercise, and the cheer- 
 ful companionship of young friends soon 
 obliterated all trace of constitutional deli- 
 cacy. Her health and spirits grew equally 
 vigorous. She read much. A new book 
 was her greatest joy. When, during one 
 of Mrs. Kenny's frequent illnesses, she dis- 
 covered a hidden chest full of novels and
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 73 
 
 literature too profane for Father Shane's 
 library of controversial works, her delight 
 was unbounded. She pounced with famish- 
 ed eagerness upon this mental pabulum. 
 Whenever she could escape her friends, 
 she sat in a quiet field, under a favourite 
 bit of hedge, poring over some worm-eaten 
 story-book, imagining herself the heroine 
 of exciting scenes and events. 
 
 In such a dreamland she continued for 
 nearly a year, mystifying her governess 
 and her father by her love of solitude, 
 and incurring long homilies from the 
 priest on uncertainty and fitfulness of tem- 
 per. These were indeed partly merited, 
 for some days she would be gloomy 
 and almost taciturn, and on others she 
 would be so elated that her sparkling 
 chatter to Mrs. Kenny, and her puzzling
 
 74 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 questions to her father, never ceased. But 
 so much came from the variety of her 
 readings. At last, satiated with romance, 
 she longed to examine the more earnest 
 works of Father Shane's sanctum. There, 
 in his absence, she secretly gloated over 
 books in whicli not only every religion, but 
 every shade of religion was discussed, except 
 that, the simplest of all, which her mo- 
 ther had taught. Finally, she abandoned 
 the sanctum, thoroughly convinced of the 
 utter uselessness of seeking to penetrate 
 the impenetrable. 
 
 At last her education was considered 
 finished. She was to become the head of 
 her father's household. But household 
 duties she had none. O'KeefFe himself 
 superintended everything. He chose ser- 
 vants pious and ascetic as himself His only
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 75 
 
 visitors were elderly people, for the most 
 part connected with the various religious 
 institutions to which he gave largely. His 
 coterie courted him, and spoke of him as 
 a saint. His marriage they considered 
 one of those terrible visitations which 
 Heaven delights to inflict on its favourites, 
 that they may furnish bright examples of 
 grace. Of Esther they were a little fright- 
 ened, and foretold evil things. She, in 
 turn, detested them and their ways. Per- 
 petual loneliness was not pleasant, but, at 
 any rate, preferable to such society. She 
 soon grew sad and serious. Vague long- 
 ings began to ferment within her. 
 Books no longer sufficed her. She crav- 
 ed for variety in her monotonous life, 
 — to travel, to test the unknown, to find 
 scope for her energies. Her aspirations
 
 76 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 were only restrained by fear of giving pain 
 to her father, whom she still tried to love 
 and respect. 
 
 Nothing could have scandalized O'Keeife 
 like the progressive spirit of his daughter. 
 His idea of woman was now quite the 
 old-fashioned one. Prayer and needlework 
 were to be her two chief objects, enliven- 
 ed by a little charitable attendance on the 
 poor, or an occasional visit from| a friend of 
 his selection. Above all, reasoning or argu- 
 ment was unfeminine. He simply required 
 of Esther unquestioning reliance on himself 
 and Father Shane. She might keep birds, 
 work in the garden, or braid altar-cloths. 
 It positively annoyed him to hear people 
 speak of her beauty, and to subdue her 
 vivacity became his earnest desire, until he 
 found that though she grew gloomy she
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 77 
 
 became not more pious, but more reserved 
 and obstinate in following her own line of 
 conduct. She seemed to snatch every op- 
 portunity to escape from home, to be more 
 constantly than ever at Mrs. Kenny's. He 
 began to consider her ungrateful, undutiful 
 even, and with the idea of winning her 
 confidence, upbraided her reticence, telling 
 her that all children should implicitly con- 
 fide in their parents. 
 
 " Did you, papa, always confide in 
 yours ?" 
 
 "No, my child, or I should have been 
 spared many sins." 
 
 '' What sins, papa ?" 
 
 " Sins of heresy, sins of disbelief" 
 
 *' Why did you disbelieve ?" 
 
 ** Because I had not faith — not faith, 
 Esther."
 
 78 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 " Papa, who gives people faith ?" 
 
 ''God, my child, and God alone, 
 through our Blessed Lord and His Holy 
 Mother." 
 
 "Then if he alone could give it you, 
 papa, and he didn't give it you, your 
 not having it could not be your fault." 
 
 O'KeefFe stared at Esther quite aghast. 
 It seemed as if her mother spoke. 
 
 Though this was the beginning of Sum- 
 mer, the weather was, even for Ireland, 
 unusually rainy. During a whole week 
 Esther was compelled to forego her daily 
 rides. Perhaps it was the lack of this ex- 
 hilarating exercise that made her indoor 
 life seem absolutely intolerable. Her fa- 
 ther, too, having been lately subject to 
 severe attacks of headache, frequently kept 
 his room for days together. She felt
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 79 
 
 more and more lonely, and in such de- 
 solation of spirit returned to the memory 
 of her mother, whom she would willingly 
 have sought, even in the grave. She grew 
 reckless. She no longer humoured the 
 weaknesses of her father, or concealed her 
 opinions. At last she positively refused to 
 go any longer to confession, openly avow- 
 ing her preference for her mother's doc- 
 trines to those of Father Shane. Then 
 trulv was O'Keeffe irate. His self-control 
 gave way completely. He tore up and 
 down the room, storming and raving like 
 a madman. A thousand times he cursed 
 her birth. He poured forth volleys of 
 abuse on the "vile Jewess," her "corrupt 
 mother." He called her " worthy off- 
 spring of an unsanctified union." He de- 
 clared her, over and over again, "no
 
 80 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 daughter of his," that she was in every 
 sense of the word a '' Cohen," a wretch- 
 ed "Cohen," and an infidel. Whilst 
 his frenzy lasted Esther stood motion- 
 less as a statue. But he had cut her to 
 the quick, and given her affection its 
 death-wound. 
 
 Father Shane had frequently taken 
 Esther to visit the cabins about Cahirci- 
 veen, and she would often linger behind, 
 long after the reverend gentleman had 
 taken his parting sip of poteen, regard- 
 less of smoke or smell of crackling peat, 
 heartily sympathising with the bitter grum- 
 blings of some broken-down Paddy, or 
 soothing some sick ill-fed child, to whom 
 the morsel of bread she invariably carried 
 with her seemed, after the yellow, coarse 
 meal, as great a luxury as plum-cake to
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 81 
 
 the peasantry of England. But the sight 
 of wretchedness she was powerless to alle- 
 viate became at last so heartrending that 
 she had for some time discontinued her 
 visits. 
 
 On this evening, however, after leaving 
 her father's presence, she felt no misery 
 could exceed her own. Her pony was 
 brought round, and filled with recklessly 
 despondent feelings, she cantered at full 
 speed towards the wretched hovel of 
 Bridget Moran. Before reaching it, how- 
 ever, she suddenly drew up, jumped off 
 Ben, tied him to a post by the bog- 
 side, and gathering the folds of her habit 
 across her arm, wandered right into the 
 midst of the drear, damp* waste, its wild- 
 ness and desolation well agreeing with her 
 mood. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 The bog extended at least half a mile 
 up the mountain side, and was interrupted 
 only by black pools of stagnant mud, or 
 deep ruts choked with surface rubbish 
 from the surrounding slate quarries. Here 
 and there, too, her footsteps were checked 
 by heaps of bleached shells, or by some 
 great cawing rook, who would flap his 
 heavy jet wing quite close to her cheek 
 as he flew towards a coveted slug, buried 
 out of all sight but his in the putrid vege- 
 tation. On Esther went, though the mist 
 began to fall, and the chill night-wind beat 
 right in her teeth. 
 
 Her face was perfectly colourless ; not 
 a feature or a muscle moved ; but when 
 at last she arrested her almost me- 
 chanical progress, and raising her hand 
 to her brow turned to scan from the
 
 A FIEST APPEARANCE. 83 
 
 height the wild waves of the green Atlan- 
 tic, there came, instead of immobility, 
 an expression telling unmistakeably that 
 some decision had been formed, some 
 decision that was unalterable. The fog 
 thickened round her, but on the sea the 
 sun glistened brightly ; and even while 
 she stood looking, the clouds rolled away, 
 and the fresh tints of a rainbow appeared 
 on the horizon. It was an omen of srood 
 promise. Relaxing her compressed lips, 
 she put them to a little gold whistle 
 on her watch-chain, giving " Ben " the 
 well-known signal that in a few minutes 
 his mistress would be on his back. Ten 
 minutes more, and Esther had arrived at 
 Bridget's cabin. A turf lire crackled op- 
 posite the entrance ; a witch-like cauldron, 
 full of " praties," was on the triangle before 
 
 a2
 
 84 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 it. A very old man, Bridget's father, sat 
 doubled up over his pipe on one side, 
 and within a foot of him, still nearer to 
 the fire, stood a battered wooden cradle, 
 within which, bundled up in a dirty 
 ragged blanket, slept the very model of 
 an infant, possessing by far the most in- 
 tellectual physiognomy in the tenement. 
 One would have thought the tiny creature 
 was being slowly roasted before that 
 blazing fire, but it seemed cosy enough ; 
 and though the " lodger " grunted and 
 rubbed its snout within an inch of its 
 straw pillow, though the cocks and hens 
 pecked around, though the dirty brown 
 cur yelped and whined at the newcomer, 
 though the hot steam from the smoking 
 washtub condensed upon its innocent little
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 85 
 
 brow, Baby slumbered on, fair as a daisy 
 in the bog. 
 
 Watching the cauldron stood a remark- 
 ably pretty girl, bare-legged, wild and 
 unkempt, with an expression worthy of an 
 Audrey. At the wash-tub soaped and 
 rubbed and rinsed her sister, the indefati- 
 gable Bridget, mistress of the establishment, 
 and mother of the baby. She was a 
 rosy, dark-eyed young woman, scarcely 
 older than Esther, though, besides the 
 infant, she had a son two years old. The 
 smile she gave Esther would have beau- 
 tified the plainest countenance, for no 
 care or hardship could ever get the better 
 of Bridget's brightness. She and her 
 husband, though reared in the lap of 
 destitution, had determined to better them- 
 selves, and as soon as a few pounds could
 
 86 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 be scraped together, Micky Moran tore 
 himself from his wife and the baby, and 
 started off with his boy to America. Still, 
 though she was left alone with the " ould 
 uns," their respective parents, the " inno- 
 cent cratur," her half-witted sister, and her 
 baby, — bread-winner-in-chief to all seven, — 
 when sympathizing friends wondered " how 
 on airth she kep up," the smile would burst 
 through her tears as she answered, ^' though 
 me jewel's in the West, and me darlint's 
 gone wid him, sure wasn't it for meself 
 and the childhren he wint? — not to men- 
 tion t'ould uns yinder." 
 
 Well repaid was her patient striving. 
 Within that very month a remittance had 
 arrived from her husband, enabling her to 
 prepare herself and baby to embark in 
 the next emigration ship from Liverpool.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 87 
 
 "Kitty," said Esther to the half-witted 
 girl by the fire as she stooped to enter the 
 low opening of the hut, " go and hold 
 Ben." 
 
 Kitty wriggled, grimaced, cuffed the pig 
 away from the cradle, and scampered off. 
 
 " Bridget, when does your vessel sail ?" 
 
 " In tin days from the prisint, Miss 
 Esther. Och ! Alanna ! but what ails yer, 
 thin, miss dear ? Av yer war a spirrit, the 
 rid couldn't be claner lift out av yer chakes. 
 Holy Mother! but it's in trouble ye are, 
 dear!" 
 
 " You are right in that, Bridget. Never 
 mind me. Where did you say Kitty was 
 going when you left ?" 
 
 " Deed, thin, it's her that breaks the heart 
 of me, miss dear. What'll be coming to 
 the purty crature but harrum, widout me at
 
 88 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 all? Shure wouldn't I lave half the life 
 av me to thim as wad lind me the manes 
 to be takin' the poor nat'ral along wid 
 
 us." 
 
 " Bridget, will you do something for me 
 if I give you money enough to take your 
 sister to America?" 
 
 " Faith !" exclaimed the girl, flinging her 
 arms above her head like a wild thing, 
 " Holy Mother ! an' w^asn't it yerself made 
 me dhrame that same? Oh! the Lord be 
 praised, and long life to you, miss, darlint ! 
 Shure the dhrame it was towld me. Holy 
 Mother ! Holy Mother !" and Bridget fell on 
 her knees before the washtub, crying with 
 excitement. 
 
 " Be quiet, my girl," said Esther authori- 
 tatively ; " you will wake the child. I have 
 promised nothing yet. Hold your tongue,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 89 
 
 I bid you," she added, as Bridget continued 
 pouring forth protestations and entreaties. 
 When she grew silent, Esther continued with 
 great solemnity — 
 
 " Now, Bridget, you must swear, by all 
 the saints in heaven, that if I send Kitty off 
 with you, you will obey me in everything 
 I ask you concerning myself" 
 
 '' Och ! an' isn't mesilf will swear ? Deed, 
 av yer war his rivirence himself, I couldn't 
 be more obadient. Wadn't I go the world 
 round for yer, thin, dear? Wadn't I be 
 
 martyred alive, dear ? Wadn't I be " 
 
 " Be silent. Be silent, and listen. 
 To-morrow I shall send you ten pounds, 
 and " 
 
 " Tin pounds ! — tin pounds !" almost 
 shrieked Bridget, falling again on her knees, 
 alternately wiping her streaming eyes and
 
 90 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 kissing Esther's habit, and the very grDund 
 about her. 
 
 " Whisht ! It's growing dark. I can 
 only stay a moment. To-morrow 1 shall 
 send you the money. I may not see you 
 again until you leave Kerry, but you must 
 let me know, as soon as possible, on what 
 day, and at what time — be exact to a mi- 
 nute — the car will set out that is to take 
 you to Killarney for Dublin. Meanwhile, 
 let no one know of your promise to me. 
 You can tell Father Shane, if you like, that 
 I have promised you money for Kitty. 
 Have you made your last confession ?" 
 
 " You're right in that, miss dear. Shure 
 it was this very morning that his rivirence 
 made the time to see me." 
 
 "Then good-bye. There, let go my 
 hand — let go, I say ! Good night."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 91 
 
 Esther hurried out, mounted Ben, and 
 rode off; but she had scarcely reached the 
 bog once more when she turned back, and 
 running again to the cabin, called out, 
 '* Bridget ! Bridget !" The baby was now 
 awake, and screaming so lustily that Bridget 
 did not hear. Kitty came, however. 
 
 " Kitty, lend me your cloak and an old 
 petticoat. It's cold I am getting with the 
 rain." Kitty went in and returned with the 
 things, and Esther galloped home at full 
 speed. 
 
 Nine of the ten days left to Bridget be- 
 fore starting soon expired. Esther had not 
 once seen her father since the altercation. 
 He remained praying and fasting in his 
 room, and, in spite of all Father Shane's 
 injunctions, she refused to supplicate his 
 forgiveness. She brooded over every word
 
 92 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 he had said, until her indignation magnified 
 his harshness, and she went wandering from 
 one deserted room to another, in ever in- 
 creasing bitterness of spirit. " Not a vestige 
 to remind him of my mother," she thought ; 
 ^' not a soul even to mention her name ! 
 Except myself Myself *no daughter of 
 his ' — • worthy oiFspring of an unsanctified 
 union' — 'of a vile Jewess.' Well, he will 
 not miss me, for he has not missed her. He 
 will not regret me ; he has not regretted 
 her. Will he ever remember me ? Perhaps ; 
 and with as much tenderness as he remem- 
 bers my ' corrupt mother.' " 
 
 Then her indignation would relax into 
 a burst of weeping ; she would ask her- 
 self why he had not loved her and her 
 mother, and why even her mother had 
 abandoned her, and left her of all girls
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 93 
 
 the only one destitute of affection. At 
 other times she would assure herself that 
 whatever reckless course she might pur- 
 sue it could not possibly matter to any one. 
 Her life and well-being had no interest for 
 a mortal. So, cost what it might, she 
 would make at least one desperate effort 
 after freedom. 
 
 Bridget Moran, true to her promise, 
 came to tell Esther when the car in which 
 she was to travel, left Cahirciveen. Esther 
 gave Bridget and Kitty a large trunk to 
 carry to the inn from which it was to 
 start. And besides, she gave Bridget 
 money with instructions to secure a third 
 place for another passenger — " a poor young 
 woman like yourself," she added, by way of 
 explanation. The still-room maid grumbled 
 as the peasants passed out, " the young
 
 94 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 missis 'ud be givin' away her head next 
 thing to thim low critturs." 
 
 Bridget said to Kitty, as they rested by 
 the road side, " Isn't it us 'ull be doing the 
 good turn by the colleen Miss Esther sinds 
 wid us, dear?" 
 
 The day of departure came. Bridget, 
 with her baby and Kitty, tore themselves 
 from their weeping, or rather howling, 
 friends, and ascended the car. The strange 
 colleen had already taken her place ; but 
 the hood of her brown cloak was drawn 
 so closely round her face, and her grey 
 woollen petticoat so completely muffled her 
 form, that, for all anyone could perceive, 
 she might have been an old crone of sixty. 
 In her perfect immobility and silence she 
 made a striking contrast to her fellow tra-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 95 
 
 vellers, who never ceased gesticulating and 
 lamenting until they reached Killarney. 
 Even then Esther might have preserved 
 her incognito, Bridget being too much en- 
 grossed by her baby and its wailings to 
 remember her resolutions regarding Miss 
 Esther's protegee, but for the idiot Kitty, 
 who began tugging at the stranger's cloak, 
 excitedly vociferating ^' Kitty's, Kitty's, " 
 until she aroused her sister's attention. The 
 result was that their travelling compan- 
 ion soon betrayed herself, though much 
 against her will, as Miss Esther. Bridget, 
 though grievously exercised in her mind at 
 the idea of aiding the young mistress to 
 run away from home, kept her promise and 
 Esther's secret, and, after a weary journey 
 by car and railroad, the whole party
 
 96 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 arrived safely in Dublin. Esther's first 
 idea had been to emigrate with her poor 
 friends, though, from the uncertainty of her 
 mother's place of abode, her mind wavered 
 between the United States and London. 
 One visit to the steamer, that was to con- 
 vey the emigrants from Dublin to Liver- 
 pool, was enough to fix her choice. All 
 her determination to escape from paternal 
 and priestly tyranny could not enable her 
 to face the prospect of even a voyage of 
 one day, still less a voyage of ten days, 
 amid such a scene of noise, dirt, and misery. 
 She took leave of Bridget on the deck of 
 the Liverpool steamer, and transferred her- 
 self and her box to one bound for Holy- 
 head, having decided that there were 
 greater probabilities of meeting with her
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 97 
 
 mother, and greater facilities in the mean- 
 time of finding a career for herself in 
 London than in New York or Boston. 
 
 VOL. I
 
 98 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TTTHEN Esther was fairly seated in the 
 ' ' train for London, she felt toler- 
 ably certain that all danger of pursuit and 
 detection was over ; and the sudden sense 
 of perfect freedom was so exhilarating 
 that for the first hour it drove every 
 other consideration completely out of her 
 thoughts. But, as she neared her journey's 
 end, she cooled down sufficiently to grow 
 practical, and to consider what would be 
 the best thing to do on arrival. 
 
 Her father had never stinted her in
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 99 
 
 money, and had not even noticed the 
 unusual demands she had latterly made 
 upon him ; still she was fully aware that 
 the sum she had brought away would 
 not be inexhaustible. She must therefore 
 decide upon some plan for earning her 
 own living. Nothing could be easier ! 
 Go to an hotel with her luggage ; " take a 
 car," and drive to one of those Governess 
 Agencies with which Mrs. Kenny had 
 often corresponded regarding old pupils 
 who had in their turn become teachers. 
 She remembered the name of one espe- 
 cially, because it was on all her school- 
 books, " De Porquet." His address was 
 Tavistock Street, Covent Garden. She 
 would order the driver to take her there, 
 and tell the gentleman at the Agency 
 that she wanted a situation, and could 
 
 H 2
 
 100 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 teach English, French, the piano, sing- 
 ing, fancy work, and many other things. 
 She felt that she could not afford 
 to lose much time, and made up her 
 mind to accept the first tolerable situation 
 offered to her at about £100 a year. 
 Having a good wardrobe in the black box, 
 she would require to spend very little of 
 her salary, and would therefore devote all 
 her earnings to the expense of searching 
 for lier mother during the holidays. She 
 was rather startled by the crowd and bustle 
 at London Bridge ; but two or three porters 
 came to her assistance, and she presently 
 found herself quietly seated in a private 
 parlour of the Station Hotel. 
 
 It was too late to think of going to the 
 Agency that day. Besides, she was quite 
 exhausted with the novelty and excitement,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 101 
 
 and the timid fancies that led her to ima- 
 gine everyone watching her and wonder- 
 ing whence she came. How dark and bare 
 the big bed-room seemed ! How the 
 chamber-maid stared as she lighted the 
 candles on the grim mantelpiece I Per- 
 haps it would look odd if she went to bed 
 at once, tired as she was. It was only 
 eight o'clock. She supposed people in 
 London went to bed about ten. She did 
 not wish to seem peculiar, so she would 
 go downstairs again and ask for a book. 
 When at last she did go to bed, she felt any- 
 thing but comfortable; the bed itself was 
 so high, so large, and so cold, that it seem- 
 ed scarcely a safe resting-place. She jump- 
 ed out in about ten minutes, to peep under- 
 neath it and to double-lock the door. At 
 last she grew warm and slept soundly.
 
 102 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Early next morning she carried out her 
 intention of going to the Governess 
 Agency. She was rather astonished at 
 the little back office and the common- 
 place look of everything ; but what aston- 
 ished her beyond all was the decisive air 
 with which the agent assured her that, 
 without previous experience and " unde- 
 niable references," putting "her name on 
 the books" would be out of the question. 
 However there were many other such 
 offices ; she would ask the cabman to 
 find one out and drive her to it. This 
 was easily accomplished, and she soon 
 found herself standing, with a beating heart 
 and flushed cheeks, in the waiting-room of 
 another considerably larger and more 
 imposing establishment. After waiting 
 for more than an hour, she was attended
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 103 
 
 to; but the result in this case was even 
 more disheartening than before. The lady 
 looked angr}^ with her, for, as she indig- 
 nantly remarked, " thinking she could possi- 
 bly enter into any negotiation for her under 
 the circumstances." Indeed, she almost 
 crave Esther to understand that her verv 
 presence there, without any references 
 whatever, compromised the " universally 
 known character of the institution." 
 
 Esther felt considerably shocked at these 
 first experiences, and was not particularly 
 re-assured when her driver informed her 
 he could take her no further, " cos 'is hoss 
 wanted changin'." They were then in the 
 Strand, and Esther felt so distracted by the 
 strangeness, the noise, and her disappoint- 
 ment, that perceiving no other cab at hand, 
 she walked on half bewildered. At last it oc-
 
 104 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 curred to her that she had better mquire 
 the way back to the hotel, and for this 
 purpose entered the next shop. It hap- 
 pened to be Lacy's, the theatrical book- 
 seller. The shop-man politely offered her 
 a chair, saying he would be at her service 
 in one minute. Whilst he attended to a 
 good-natured looking little man at the 
 counter, Esther's eyes were attracted to a 
 staring advertisement on the wall opposite. 
 " Fifty young ladies required immediately, 
 with good voices and able to dance. 
 Liberal salaries. Apply to Mr. Haynes, 
 Agent, Bow Street, Covent Garden." 
 Here perhaps was an opening. She was 
 not quite sure she could teach dancing, 
 but she must make a venture. She de- 
 termined on another effort, though she 
 was almost prevented making it by the
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 1 05 
 
 glance of unmistakeable interest with which 
 she felt the little customer at the counter 
 was eyeing her. 
 
 " If you please," she said at last, '' can 
 you direct me the way to — to this ?" she 
 added, pointing to the advertisement, for 
 her voice failed her as she saw the little 
 man still staring. 
 
 "Well 1" answered the shop-man, with a 
 sly wink at his customer, " I think we can, 
 miss. What do you say, sir ? " 
 
 " If the young lady will allow me, I'm 
 going that way myself, and will show her 
 where it is." 
 
 " Oh, thank you," said Esther. 
 
 "Come along, then," said the gentle- 
 man. 
 
 "You're from the country, ain't you, 
 miss?" he asked, walking by her side.
 
 106 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 " Yes, I haven't been in England long. 
 
 " You're a novice, I suppose ?" 
 
 Esther thoui^ht of the novices in con- 
 
 o 
 
 vents, and wondered what he meant. 
 
 " Ah ! it's a beautiful profession, my 
 dear," her companion continued without 
 waiting for a reply ; " many's the for- 
 tune's been made at it, in no time, or 
 less." 
 
 " I thought it was considered badly 
 paid," replied Esther, encouraged by the 
 little man's good-natured manner. 
 
 "Badly paid? There's not another pro- 
 fession where a woman can earn salt to 
 her porridge, bless yer. Why, it's only 
 last month I got a young girl, quite a 
 novice, a first-rate engagement at E. T. 
 Smith's, and now she's a leading lady." 
 
 *' Oh !" said Esther, wondering; then feel-
 
 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 107 
 
 ing her courage rise, she said, " Are you 
 an agent, sir ? " 
 
 "To be sure I am, ray dear. The fact 
 is, it was my advertisement you was read- 
 ing. My name's 'Aynes, and bless yer, you 
 needn't be frightened of me, for I'm quite 
 a father to the young ladies I bring out. 
 Now, I don't want to flatter you, my dear, 
 but why I was looking at you so hard 
 was 'cos I said to myself, now, if that 
 young lady's going into the profession, 
 she'll be a hit, as sure as I live. And I'm 
 the man could make her do it. Can you 
 tell me the time, my dear?" 
 
 Esther drew out her handsome little 
 watch, and Mr. Haynes felt by that token 
 and her manner and dress that a fish was 
 tumbling into his net well worth catcli- 
 ing.
 
 108 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Esther presently told him the disap- 
 pointment she had met with that morn- 
 ing, and what her difficulties were regard- 
 ing references. Then he saw the mistake 
 she was under, and seized an opportunity 
 of inveighing against the slavery of Gover- 
 ness life. 
 
 "A life not to be led in the kitchen, 
 you're too high for that, my dear ; not to 
 be led in the drawing-room, you're too 
 low for that ; so your place is, I suppose, 
 on the stairs, and that's rather a cold 
 place at times, I should think," he remark- 
 ed, evidently believing himself very witty. 
 
 By this time they had reached the 
 office. A fat little woman in black satin 
 and cork-screw ringlets opened the door. 
 *' My wife," said Mr. Haynes by way of in- 
 troduction. "Take this young lady into
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 109 
 
 the parlour for a few minutes, my dear." 
 Esther was dreadfully tired and faint, 
 and the cup of tea offered by the mo- 
 therly little woman was quite a god- 
 send. She soon gave all the confidence 
 she dared, and Mrs. Haynes arriving at 
 precisely the same conclusions regarding 
 her as her husband had come to, took his 
 hint and chaperon'd Esther back to the 
 hotel. On her return to Bow Street she 
 and her husband began arranging how to 
 assist the interesting novice, and it was in 
 consequence of this assistance that Esther 
 eventually found herself in the rooms de- 
 scribed in the opening chapter.
 
 no 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Qj INCE her introduction to Mrs. Staunton, 
 '^ Esther had made no new friends, 
 though opportunities for doing so had fre- 
 quently offered themselves during her les- 
 sons. Mrs. Markham, the butterman's wife, 
 who supplied the old lady's breakfast bacon, 
 asked her to dine off a Michaelmas goose; 
 and Miss Foster, a pert little pupil, with 
 plenty of what gentlemen called ^' chic " 
 but Tony called " cheek," once invited her 
 to a grand " spread " at Rosherville. 
 
 Mrs. Markham was a lady verging on forty, 
 fat and round as her primest double Glos'ter.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. Ill 
 
 She had somehow become possessed with 
 the idea that if she could only get a few 
 lessons in acting " on the sly," and " mibe- 
 known to Azm," she would certainly astonish 
 that " him,'' and distinguish herself, at those 
 select little theatres in Dean Street and 
 Liverpopl Street, in the sweet characters 
 of Desdemona and Juliet. 
 
 " Ain't she a ole fool ? " said Tony, as 
 he one day chalked her rotund outline in 
 the act of coming down with a bump in 
 the "handkerchief" scene of Othello, 
 " Ain't she* a fool now, gran'ma ?" 
 
 " My dear," returned gran'ma, reprov- 
 ingly, for she never depreciated her own 
 pupils, " she pays us very regularly ; and 
 really I must say she has some ideas. 
 Enough, however ! What have you pro- 
 vided for dinner?"
 
 112 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Dinner not being either a punctual or 
 ceremonious repast in this establishment, 
 Tony replied, 
 
 " Nothink ! I ain't got no money." 
 
 *^ Oh, you shocking child ! Did I not 
 give you one shilling, fourpence, and two 
 penny pieces only yesterday afternoon? 
 You will ruin me. That is what you cer- 
 tainly will do." 
 
 " Ugh, gran'ma," remonstrated Tony, 
 " I lost my bob at the So'. You know 
 what a 'eap o' thieves goes in and out 
 them doors ; why, you once 'ad your pocket 
 picked with ever such a lot in it, you did. 
 I only went to please you, yer know, an' 
 I took Miss Esther." 
 
 ''Well, did Jervis stick?" 
 
 " No ! She was all right ; she told 'em 
 all how you'd taught 'er like a good un.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 113 
 
 But there! That little wretch Foster 
 
 if she'd been a man, wouldn't I 'ave licked 
 'er ! And never paid us yet !" he added, . 
 with an indignant grunt. 
 
 " What has she done now ?" 
 
 " Well ! 'Pon my say so ! if she didn't 
 swear, before no end o' young fellers in 
 the passage goin' out, that she didn't be- 
 lieve actin' could be taught. It was all 
 nature, or nothink. She's all lies, or no- 
 think, that's what she is. Why, see how 
 you've had to teach her how to put her 
 arms out. Why, she couldn't stand 
 straight, let alone speak her Aaitches. But, 
 oh, though, wasn't it rich, that's all ? 
 Ton ray say so, I laughed fit to crack, I 
 did. Who should come by so softly — so 
 softly I didn't hear 'er, though I was a- 
 waitin' there for 'er — but Miss Esther; 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 and she put out her little hand, — she'd 
 got on a pair o' lavender kids, bran new, 
 I bet, — and she shakes 'ands with little 
 Foster — first time ever I see 'er do it — 
 and says she, out loud, and so clear every- 
 one 'eard 'er, and I believe she'd 'eard all, 
 and said it a-purpose " 
 
 " What did she say ? what did she say ?" 
 inquired Mrs. Staunton eagerly. 
 
 " She says, looking as grand as a hem- 
 press, ' I congratulate you. Miss Foster, 
 on your success to-night. You must feel 
 amply repaid for the many fatiguing hours 
 you have spent with our friend Mrs. 
 Staunton in studying that part.' And 
 then she took my 'and, an' we walked 
 home without speaking, because 'er voice 
 was tired." 
 
 "Ah, she is a lady, my dear, she is a
 
 A FIRST APPEAKANCE. 115 
 
 lady, I am sure. By-the-by, have you 
 learnt aught of her parentage ? 1 cannot 
 but believe she is a well-born young 
 woman." 
 
 " Yer right there, gran'ma. If she ain't 
 belongin' to 'igh society, Fm a Dutchman. 
 Every think she's got's fust-rate. Slie's got 
 a gold pencil-case in her pocket-book, and 
 you see'd that there watch of 'ers. Look 
 at 'er 'ands, too ; talk to me about thorough- 
 bred after them." 
 
 " Depend upon it," the old lady con- 
 tinued, as she rested from shovelling up the 
 cinders, and throwing them at the back of 
 the fire, "depend on it, she has eloped 
 from her friends. She tells me, however, 
 that she has very little money, and when I 
 consented to receive five pounds " 
 
 " Five pounds !" shouted Ton}^, rushing to 
 
 i2
 
 116 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 the old lady's side ; " five pounds ! Let's 
 look, gran'ma ! Let's look !" 
 
 " Wait a moment, you rude boy. Have 
 the consideration to wait, at least, until I 
 have finished speaking," drawled the old 
 lady peevishly, with a touch of that pecu- 
 liar love old people seem to have for try- 
 ing the patience of the young, but which 
 temporarily silenced Tony. 
 
 " When I consented, as I was observing, 
 to receive five pounds on account, she 
 informed me that probably I might have 
 to wait before she could pay me for all the 
 tuition she wishes to have during the next 
 three months, until she procured some lu- 
 crative engagement. However, this pay- 
 ment just arrives in time, for how I was 
 to pay Griffin the four months' rent, I could 
 not imagine. Something always turns up —
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 117 
 
 now does it not? Something always turns 
 up, just, thank goodness, in the nick of 
 time !" 
 
 " By Jove, really a fiver ! I say, do 
 show us the flimsy, gran'ma." 
 
 Mrs. Staunton drew out her old brown 
 purse, and handed him the bank-note with 
 Siddons-like dignity. 
 
 ^' All right, it's a good 'un !" he exclaimed, 
 holding it up to the light, and scrutinising 
 the water-mark. " Well, she is a brick ! 
 I say, gran, I 'ope old 'Aynes won't get 'er 
 into 'is clutches. You just tell 'er now the 
 sort 'e is. She don't know no more about 
 nothink than a newborn babe. Old Lang was 
 a-goin' to charge 'er four shillin's for a pound 
 o' coffee last night, only I 'appened to come 
 up, then 'e pertended 'e made a mistake, 
 and thought it was tea she ask 'im for. I've
 
 118 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 writ 'er the prices of a lot o' things she'll be 
 wantin'. But, I say, you'll tell 'er about 
 'Aynes, won't you, now ?" 
 
 " How excessively inconsiderate you are, 
 child !" Mrs. Staunton replied testily. She 
 was always testy when her necessities com- 
 pelled her to embark in any little transac- 
 tion not perfectly straightforward. " Ex- 
 tremely inconsiderate, Tony. Mr. Haynes 
 brought her here ; and it would indeed be 
 ungrateful on my part to speak ill of him. 
 She is quite old enough to take care of her 
 money. Besides, really it concerns neither 
 you nor me what Mr. Haynes does. If he 
 brings her out, of course he ought to be 
 paid for his trouble. He has always treated 
 us well." 
 
 " Oh, gran'ma ! but you know what a 
 hinfernal cheat he is ! He won't leave 'er a
 
 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 119 
 
 penny. And see 'ow clever she is ! She'll 
 be the greatest success in the metrupplis.'' 
 
 " My dear, it is never sure who will take. 
 Who knows but she may feel nervous, or 
 her voice fail, or " 
 
 " You know, gran'ma, you hioiv she'll do ; 
 and I call it a blackguard shame that feller 
 should be gettin' 'er to sign a hengagement 
 for body and soul without 'er knowin' what 
 she's a-doin' . Talk of the devil — 'ere's 
 'Aynes hisself ! What's he up to now?" 
 
 The object of Mr. Haynes's visit to Mrs. 
 Staunton was to propose an arrangement 
 for her young pupil to recite on the fol- 
 lowing Thursday before Mr. G. P. Browne. 
 Mr. Haynes of course apologised for mak- 
 ing so irregular a suggestion, — it being 
 generally understood between teachers of 
 elocution and theatrical agents that the
 
 120 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 preparation of novices must remain in- 
 complete so long as instruction or intro- 
 duction can be paid for, — but after his 
 last conversation with Esther, he considered 
 delay might be dangerous. Moreover, he 
 vv^ished his report to Mr. Gerald of her 
 qualifications to be supplemented by some 
 weightier opinion. Indeed, Mr. G. P 
 Browne might think it worth while to 
 engage her for his Christmas novelty, — this 
 year he had no pantomime, — in which case 
 the introduction to Mr. Gerald might stand 
 aside, while Mr. Haynes secured an inter- 
 mediate percentage. 
 
 Mrs. Staunton seldom disputed Mr. 
 Haynes's wishes. When she was a little 
 mercenary, it was merely from the sheerest 
 necessity. She felt delighted at the idea 
 of chaperoning such a pupil to the scene
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 121 
 
 of her own former triumphs, a pupil 
 whose future fame might reflect new 
 radiance on her own forgotten glory; for 
 Tony was fully justified in his assertion 
 that " gran'ma hieiv she'd be a success." 
 
 The day fixed seemed to Esther no sooner 
 appointed than arrived. Now her days 
 grew too short, so assiduously did she 
 work at an infinity of what are called 
 "juvenile leading parts." In the evening 
 Mrs. Staunton would frequently take her 
 to those theatres where she had the entree^ 
 glad enough to secure a companion who, 
 besides being sympathetic and full of dra- 
 matic enthusiasm, always insisted on pro- 
 viding a cab there and back.
 
 122 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 /~\N the appointed Thursday morning 
 ^-^ Esther felt extremely nervous, though 
 she would not acknowledge it even to 
 herself, at the idea of reciting before so 
 awful a personage as a London manager. 
 Up to the last moment she stood attitu- 
 dinising and practising before the dusty 
 looking-glass. 
 
 At last Mrs. Staunton, Tony, and Haynes 
 arrived. Though they were far too ex- 
 perienced to be deceived by her over-acted 
 insouciance^ they felt perfectly assured she
 
 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 123 
 
 would do them credit. The suppressed ex- 
 citement only heightened her beauty. 
 Shillings at this time being of no small 
 importance to all three, the cab must not 
 be kept waiting. In five minutes they 
 were rattling down the noisy thoroughfare. 
 In a quarter of an hour Haynes was thump- 
 ing with truly professional vigour at 
 the stage door of Mr. G. P. Browne's 
 theatre. 
 
 A stout elderly man without whiskers, 
 pale and flabby-faced, but with merry 
 grey eyes that, in spite of their smallness 
 and the inflamed tint of their lids, ex- 
 pressed the well-established fact that their 
 possessor was just the man to manage the 
 tempers of those " difficult little dears," 
 the ladies of the company, to accommo- 
 date the varied vanities of " walking
 
 124 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 gents," or, when some star was prevented 
 appearing by an untimely influenza or 
 extra potation, to address the unindulgent 
 pit. 
 
 He greeted Mrs. Staunton with '^ good 
 morning, Madam," and a slow grave in- 
 clination of his bald head. To Tony and 
 Haynes he simply gave a familiar nod. 
 Then, smiling with paternal benevolence 
 on Esther, " A pupil of yours, Mrs. Staun- 
 ton?" he inquired. 
 
 ''Yes, Mr. Barsett. Where is Mr. 
 Browne ?" 
 
 " Not expected this morning, my dear 
 Madam." 
 
 " Ain't he now ? " said Haynes, with a 
 Robsonian grimace. "Well, here's a se- 
 cret for you, old boy. Just you go up- 
 stairs — only the first flight, bless you ;
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 125 
 
 and if you enter the small door on your 
 right, there you will perceive the identi- 
 cal party inquired for. Won't do, Barsett, 
 won't do ; for we've come by appointment. 
 Meanwhile Til take the liberty of intro- 
 ducing our young friend to your illustrious 
 boards. You sit still here, Mrs. Staunton," 
 he added, taking a beer can off the seat in 
 the box-keeper's nook, " sit still, and 
 don't say we've tired you. There's that 
 young shaver of yours talking to old Joe, 
 as usual. Come along with me, Miss." 
 
 Esther passively followed, her heart 
 beating high at the prospect of actually 
 going behind the scenes, and seeing a 
 real theatre in broad daylight. The narrow 
 passages seemed very dark and dirty. 
 She lifted her bright purple gown daintily, 
 as it rustled among the shavings round
 
 126 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 "Old Joe," the carpenter's bench, where 
 stood Tony in confidential confab, assisting 
 a greasy little black-bearded man to test 
 some horribly-smelling blue and green fire. 
 A new burlesque being in active prepara- 
 tion, every kind of extravaganza property 
 lay strewn about the wings. Esther started 
 as the fringe of her cloak caught up a gigan- 
 tic black spider, and the scene-shifter, as 
 he detached the innocent wire manufacture, 
 and restored it to its original web on a 
 paper rosebush, heartily chuckled over the 
 young lady's "greenness." 
 
 Then they threaded in and out the 
 tall painted planks, which Esther grieved 
 to think constituted the slips ; and the 
 untidy, blocked-up, dismal, draughty pass- 
 ages she could not all at once bring 
 herself to believe actually represented
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 127 
 
 those wings where, according to her 
 novels, velvet-robed queens of tragedy 
 and no end of lords and dukes exchanged 
 love-vows. In another minute she was 
 " treading the boards," — she, Mr. Haynes, 
 and an asthmatic old charwoman, who, 
 liaving partly finished scrubbing them, stood, 
 pail in hand, shrilly protesting against 
 being prevented slopping the whole stage 
 by the untimely practice of Miss Foster. 
 
 This young lady, a piquante little 
 blonde, in short white skirt and canvas 
 slippers, was rehearsing for the twentieth 
 time a difficult pas^ much to the dis- 
 satisfaction of a small wizened old man 
 with a screeching fiddle. Evidently he 
 was in a rage with his careless pupil, for 
 he flung down his instrument with any- 
 thing but the marked gentleness of les
 
 128 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 maitres violons, who carry and swaddle 
 their Cremonas with all the tenderness 
 and care of a young mother for her first 
 baby. 
 
 Unmindful of the approach of strangers, 
 he bawled louder and louder : — " One — 
 two — three! One — two — three!" — to mark 
 the time of her long slow step. " There, 
 there it is !" he went on, his whole heart 
 in his business, " more from the hip — 
 more from the hip — rounder — slow — 
 slower — one — two — slower ! Two, the 
 knee bends — three — bless my soul ! Not 
 till four, the toe touches. What in hea- 
 ven's name is the matter with you ?" 
 The old dancing-master's voice crescendoed 
 to fortissimo. But the httle coryphee, 
 accustomed to his anger, was, for all 
 that, not so attentive but that she per-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 129 
 
 ceived Esther s entrance, and made a little 
 moue at Haynes, expressing " See what 
 this old brute is making me go through !" 
 
 Esther glanced round shyly ^and re- 
 spectfully, feeling she was, in all proba- 
 bility, in the presence of a Taglioni, at 
 any rate in that of some far cleverer 
 person than herself. Haynes left her for 
 a moment to speak to a rather short, 
 strong-built young gentleman-, in a blue 
 frock-coat, buff waistcoat, embroidered 
 shirt front, and a ruby and turquoise 
 cravat-pin, who had just entered. He 
 looked exceedingly lively, and what is 
 called wide-awake ; indeed it struck Esther 
 that all the people about the theatre had 
 a peculiarly sharp, vivacious, and ready- 
 for-anything air. Haynes presently in- 
 troduced his friend, Mr. Flexmore — for 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 it was no other than that celebrated 
 acrobat. Flexmore lifted up his low 
 crowned hat, replacing it more jauntily 
 on one side than ever, but looking so 
 thoroughly good-natured that Esther felt 
 almost comforted by the long inspection 
 of his kindly-beaming eyes. 
 
 " Well, Miss, this is the first time you Ve 
 been on the boards, I hear. Queer place, 
 isn't it ? Feel a small bit nervous, I dare- 
 say." 
 
 " Oh no ! not in the least," faltered 
 Esther, fibbing from sheer want of self- 
 possession; whereupon Flexmore gave a 
 curious wink at Haynes, and strolled across 
 to Miss Foster. 
 
 " And how are we getting on, my 
 dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm stuck at that horrid sinkinf?
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 131 
 
 step ; and he's such an impatient wretch," 
 she replied, laughing at her master, and 
 adding, " You know, Mr. Green, you make 
 me so dreadfully agitated that I really 
 can't do it !" 
 
 " Green, Green," ejaculated Flex more, 
 with burlesque solemnity, " where can you 
 expect to go to, if you shatter a delicate 
 young lady's nerves in this heartless 
 fashion ?" 
 
 " She's about as much time in her as a 
 kitten," growled the old man, retuning his 
 fourth string. 
 
 Flexmore took the violin out of his 
 hand. 
 
 " Come, come," he said encouragingly, 
 " let's -see where the difficulty lies." 
 
 "Here's the place," said the girl, mak- 
 ing a little mark on the music paper. 
 
 k2
 
 132 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Flexmore rosined the bow, scraped a 
 few bars, pressed his hat tighter over his 
 ears, pirouetted, entrechat'd five times in 
 the air, and slowly raising his leg from 
 the hip to a perfect arch, continued play- 
 ing the violin, whilst he executed the al- 
 most impossible pas to perfection. Esther 
 could not refrain from laughing at the 
 comic effect dancing in every-day clothes 
 produced; and when Flexmore present- 
 ed to her one of the most Liston-like 
 faces, her gravity was so completely upset 
 that she begged to be conducted to Mrs. 
 Staunton, in order to regain the composure 
 necessary for her coming trial. 
 
 Flexmore himself showed her the way 
 back, cracking theatrical jokes, a;id making 
 his funniest grimaces, partly because it was 
 his metier to appear invariably "jolly," partly
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 133 
 
 in an endeavour to forget for the moment how 
 cruelly his finely-developed chest was burn- 
 ing and aching with the disease he felt must 
 prematurely put an end to his career on this 
 world's stage. Mrs. Staunton was chatting 
 confidentially to Barsett, who had returned 
 from the throne-room upstairs to say that 
 his Majesty the manager must delay their 
 audience exactly one quarter of an hour. 
 This soon passed, and Esther followed 
 Mrs. Staunton up the narrow dark stairs 
 to Mr. G. P. Browne's private apartment. 
 
 The sun, hitherto invisible, now, as if 
 in spite, appeared through the greasy mud- 
 splashed window, and, like a huge blood- 
 red ball, shone full on Esther's point of 
 sight. The din of carts and rattling cabs grew 
 suddenly louder and louder, and almost pre- 
 vented her hearing Mr. Browne's curt greet-
 
 134 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ing. These two contre-temps, in conjunction 
 with the prosaic appearance of the room, and 
 the still more prosaic appearance of her 
 audience, so thoroughly awoke in her the 
 sense of surrounding realities, that she felt 
 in an instant all power of throwing herself 
 into one of Shakespear's conceptions gone. 
 She could not raise her eyes for that gory 
 spot dazzling them ; she could not lower 
 them but they fell on Mr G. P. Browne's 
 quaintly carved meerschaum and tobacco 
 pouch, or a gaudily coloured print of 
 ^'Flexmore behind and before." She 
 could scarcely hear herself speak, and 
 certainly action was out of the quest- 
 ion, for two empty packing cases lumbered 
 up the space between her and Mrs. 
 Browne's desk. All poetry and artistic 
 feeling she felt suddenly gone out of her.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 135 
 
 She was strongly inclined to cry. She 
 gabbled a few lines mechanically. She 
 tried again with no better success. Mrs. 
 Staunton saw she had lost nerve; Haynes 
 was awfully put out ; Mr. G. P. Browne 
 became convinced there was simply a good- 
 looking young woman before him — nothing 
 more. Tony was the only one who really 
 felt and understood the true reason of her 
 failure. Like a hero, he ventured to ex- 
 plain ; and Haynes found a satisfactory 
 outlet for his temper, in administering the 
 little fellow a sound box on the ears for 
 his pains. 
 
 After a vain effort to recover herself, 
 Esther said she felt ill, and must retire ; 
 so the interview broke up, to everyone's 
 complete discomfiture. Haynes left them 
 at the theatre door. Tony hailed a cab
 
 136 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 for Esther, and she reached her lodgings 
 with a sensation of tightness at her heart 
 that was almost suffocating. Her mortifica- 
 tion was at its height ; but though she in- 
 dulged in a refreshing cry, and though the dif- 
 ficulties in her path seemed greater than she 
 had ever imagined, she had not lost courage 
 by this failure. On the contrary, she de- 
 termined more than ever to fight all ob- 
 stacles to the death. Her pride was stung 
 to the quick by Mr. Browne's low estimate 
 of her powers. In spite of his polite ob- 
 servations, she had not failed to detect it. 
 Towards Mrs. Staunton, too, who had tried 
 so kindly but ineffectually to conceal her 
 chagrin, she felt positively culpable. 
 
 It was unpleasant enough next day to 
 have to resume her lessons. What, on her 
 way to Shore Street, she thought, would
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE . 137 
 
 be the use of telling that weather-beaten 
 old veteran of her tremors and palpita- 
 tions? If she wanted fine rooms and 
 complete etceteras, she might build her 
 own theatre and engage her own com- 
 pany. Mrs. Siddons played Shakspeare 
 in a barn. If she had no concentration, 
 the sneeze of a lad in the gallery, or the 
 rustle of a silk dress in the stalls, might 
 destroy her. If she had so little imagina- 
 tion, so little control over her mind, she 
 had better take in sewing for a living, or 
 go as nursemaid to some greengrocer's chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Thus she soundly rated herself; but 
 gradually recovering her spirits, she con- 
 tinued, more hopefully, " No ! vouloir cest 
 pouvoir" She had felt Juliet, Portia, and 
 other great characters ; she had expressed
 
 138 A FIRST APPEARANCE, 
 
 them in all their intensity and earnestness. 
 Mrs. Staunton, Haynes and Tony knew her 
 strength. Only by accident had she been 
 so suddenly paralysed. She had never 
 supposed she could feel nervous, or she 
 would have kept a tighter hand over her= 
 self. This she determined — Mr. Browne 
 must see her once more, and be made to 
 revoke his yesterday's opinion.
 
 139 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 11 IRS. STAUNTON was grumbling at 
 -*-^-^ Tony for having let the fire go out, 
 when Esther entered, glowing with her 
 brisk walk. She at once assumed an air 
 of cheerful insouciance^ which quite took 
 Mrs. Staunton aback. The old lady, having 
 expected to see her downcast and despond- 
 ing, had prepared a pretty little consola- 
 tion speech. She enjoyed comforting her 
 pupils whenever they had a stroke of ill- 
 luck, and was, therefore, considerably dis- 
 appointed to find her sympathy uncalled-for.
 
 140 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Esther, taking her hand, plunged at once 
 into the difficulty. 
 
 " Now, my dear Mrs. Staunton, I know 
 you are going to scold me. I did make 
 a shocking mess of it yesterday, I acknow- 
 ledge ; but I don't know that it much 
 matters, except that I gave you a drive in 
 the rain for nothing. How cold your 
 hand is ! I hope you did not catch a 
 cold?" 
 
 Mrs. Staunton replied, rather stiffly, she 
 was not feeling particularly well. 
 
 " Neither was I yesterday. Loitering 
 about that dirty place, listening to that 
 dreadful fiddle scraping, completely took 
 everything out of me. Mr. Browne, of 
 course, could not form any idea of how ex- 
 cellently I had been taught. Never mind, 
 you dear, patient mistress. It will come
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 141 
 
 to him with keener relish by-and-by. I'm 
 quite up in Juliet's impatience this morn- 
 ing. Here, let me put those coals on for 
 you. Now I'll begin." 
 
 Mrs. Staunton sat perfectly still, and 
 made no remark. She was cross. She 
 thought Esther might have more conside- 
 ration for her feelings than to take the 
 failure so coolly. Then she dragged her 
 black gauze shawl tighter across her chest, 
 took up her spectacles and book, drew her- 
 self more upright, only occasionally giving 
 a little grunt, as she tried rather nervously 
 to find the page in her old Shakspeare 
 at which Esther was about to begin. 
 
 Esther tossed her hat on the sofa, 
 swung aside her plaid cloak, and with a 
 fervor and earnest rapidity so sudden 
 that it quite startled the old lady, de-
 
 142 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 claimed with passionate intoxication, " Gal- 
 lop apace, ye fiery-footed steeds ! to 
 Phoebus' mansion !" Juliet's sublime im- 
 patience, her love-longings, her very 
 adoration of the stars into which she 
 would have her Romeo apotheosised, 
 were pictured in their fullest beauty. 
 Mrs. Staunton had never so seen, so heard, 
 or so conceived a Juliet. In her appre- 
 ciation of art all ill-temper vanished. 
 Her worn old cheeks glowed again, and 
 rising at the Nurse's cue, she seized the 
 poker and hobbled across the room, as 
 fully engrossed in the parts as Esther 
 herself 
 
 Never had the two characters acted up 
 to each other with greater spirit. Over- 
 come as Nurse and teacher, the old lady 
 hugged her pupil with an admiring aifec-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 143 
 
 tion as real as acted. A burst of applause 
 came in roost appropriately as the scene 
 ended, for during its repetition Mr. Browne 
 and Mr. Haynes had entered unperceived. 
 It is needless to add that under no cir- 
 cumstances could Esther's talent have been 
 more clearly manifested. 
 
 " By gad, she's glorious, ma'am !" 
 ejaculated the delighted manager. " You 11 
 make a hit, my dear young lady, if there 
 ever was one. Mrs. Staunton, pray allow 
 your grandson to fetch a bottle of port — 
 the very best. You must be tired, both of 
 you. It will do you good. Sit down Miss 
 What is your name?" 
 
 "Esther Cowen." 
 
 " Sit down. Miss Esther Cowen, and rest 
 yourself. Bless me! what a head of hair 
 she has !"
 
 144 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 This last remark was elicited by Esther's 
 never tightly-bound locks having escaped 
 from their ivory comb in unfettered luxuri- 
 ance. 
 
 Esther disappointed her entertainer by 
 positively refusing to partake of the poison- 
 ous compound brought in triumph by 
 Tony, and which the rest of the party 
 highly enjoyed. She ate some of the arrow- 
 root biscuits, however, that Mrs. Staunton 
 produced from her cupboard ; and after 
 going through one or two more recitations 
 by special desire, she took her leave. Tony 
 bounded downstairs to open the door. 
 When they were outside he said, 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Esther, you know that 
 there two-shillin' piece yer gave us yes- 
 terday ? I had to pay a subscription to 
 ray club with that, I had. I want a
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 145 
 
 few things rather partickler this evenin', 
 and — and, I say, if you've got such a 
 thing as another shillin' about yer, I'll 
 really give it yer back as soon as pos- 
 sible. Will yer now ?" 
 
 Esther had become sufficiently interest- 
 ed in Tony to observe him narrowly, 
 and to seek to unravel the motive of his 
 mysterious little actions. But she felt it high 
 time to resist his continual demands on her 
 purse. He had so often had sixpences and 
 shillings, that all his original hesitation in ac- 
 cepting money seemed gone. He pocketed 
 whatever he could getwith a blunt "Thanks." 
 If he had an apple, or a gingerbread-nut, it 
 slid immediately into that omnium gatherum 
 on the right side of his jacket. Yet he was 
 certainly not a selfish child. He never 
 seemed to possess toys, sweets, or books. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 His clasp-knife, pencil, and alley-taws were 
 his sole amusements in the daytime. Yet 
 he was constantly asking Esther for the 
 oddest things. 
 
 One morning she intended giving an 
 old serge gown to Betsy, but the urchin 
 dropping in to see her, and accidentally 
 perceiving her intention, begged for it so 
 earnestly, that he defrauded the maid of 
 the gift. He seemed, above all, anxious to 
 conceal his acquisitions from Mrs. Staunton, 
 so they certainly were not circulated in that 
 quarter. He must have some secret 
 market for his small wares. Esther was 
 confirmed in this suspicion by remarking 
 that he always hurried on, pretending not 
 to observe her, if she happened to meet him 
 in the street. 
 
 At home his position was certainly no
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 147 
 
 sinecure. Besides being his " grandma's" 
 factotum, he frequently managed her pupils 
 as well as her household. They, one 
 and all, recognised his importance. To 
 many of them he was at times indispen- 
 sable ; for when they performed at the 
 Soho or Cabinet Theatres, Tony carried 
 their bandboxes, fastened their dresses, 
 put on their goloshes — in fact, looked after 
 them generally. When their courage failed, 
 Tony scampered for porter. Was some 
 indispensable property found wanting just 
 two minutes before the curtain drew up, 
 Tony rushed everywhere to find it ; or 
 there he was in front, exactly at the right 
 moment, "helping' with hands, voice, and 
 feet, until you would have thought him 
 converted into six kisty claqueurs ; or 
 were some poor girl by chance hissed — 
 
 l2
 
 148 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 an uncommon occurrence, however, for 
 the audiences at these places are un- 
 usually good-natured — no one in the world 
 could have guessed but that the gruff 
 peremptory "Turn him out ! Turn him 
 out !" came from some elderly spectacled 
 critic. 
 
 Critics do occasionally visit these modest 
 little houses, and unprotected talent does 
 occasionally find an opening from an ap- 
 pearance on their boards. But to return 
 to Tony's last request of Esther. What 
 could he want with another shilling? 
 Perhaps he was about to invest it in a 
 long talked of paint-box. As soon as 
 she had handed i'c to him, he walked 
 quickly down St. Giles's. Esther too was 
 going home that way. She determined 
 to watch him, and solve the mystery.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 149 
 
 The thickening fog enabled her to follow 
 his rapid footsteps quite closely without 
 fear of detection. Straight down the 
 slushy High Street they trudged, Tony 
 whistling as only one with lusty young 
 lungs can whistle, and elbowing all by- 
 standers out of his path, with the self- 
 importance of a police sergeant. He 
 was presently interrupted, however, with 
 " Hallo, Ton}^, where are yer off to ?" 
 shouted by a sallow lanky lad, with the 
 half savage suspicious expression peculiar 
 to the youth of that quarter, who was 
 slinking outside a gin shop. " Stop a 
 minute, can't yer?" he continued, cram- 
 ming his hollow jaws with huge hot 
 lumps of a large kidney pie. " I'm a- 
 coming along with yer." 
 
 " No ! that yer ain't, yer great beast !"
 
 150 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 replied Tony. " What are yer loafin' 
 about there for, munchin' away at that 
 there pie, as tho' yer wouldn't give a 
 feller a bit, was it ever so. I'll tell 
 yer what now, if yer don't give us at 
 least a quarter of it, I'll pay yer out for 
 what I owes yer as I come back, I will." 
 "Unconscionable little robber," thought 
 Esther, eyeing with more pity than dis- 
 gust the wretched object of this un- 
 warrantable threat, who, it must be ad- 
 mitted, was quite four inches the taller, 
 and might have been almost a man from 
 his face. But Tony's pugilistic successes 
 were too well known to be lightly pro- 
 voked. He often indulged in a *' set-to/' 
 not unfrequently returning to the alter- 
 nate scolding and doctoring of Grand- 
 mamma, with his blue eyes half closed,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 1 5 1 
 
 and his snub nose considerably enlarged. 
 He once told Esther confidentially he was 
 rather partial to fighting, " because it was 
 something to do like," and "when once 
 he begun he didn't know how to stop." 
 
 A lump of the pie, then, having been 
 given him with a grumbling remark, 
 " Don't bully us no more then for that 
 tuppence," it was carefully enveloped in 
 Tony's ragged cotton handkerchief, and 
 stowed alongside the clasp-knife. 
 
 On he sped, until he reached a ding)' 
 corner shop. It was a grocer's, and Esther 
 wondered by what charm " excellent family 
 teas at two shillings," and "best Musco- 
 vados at threepence halfpenny," detained 
 him so long at the window. At last he 
 thrust his finger in liis cheek, and extracted 
 the shilling she had given him, scrutinized
 
 152 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 it with the calculating air of a financier, and 
 as he entered the shop, spat on it, with 
 the superstition of a vulgar little boy. 
 Thence, after a few moments, he emerged, 
 laden with whity-brown and blue paper 
 parcels, and turned into a low-covered pas- 
 sage on the right — a dark, dirty passage 
 always, but at this time of day rendered 
 more particularly uninviting by the crowd 
 of unfashionable loungers who crowded, 
 higgled, or quarrelled beneath its protecting 
 shade. 
 
 The idea of being afraid of back slums 
 never entered Esthers mind, and she 
 followed, brimming with curiosity, into 
 the close, squalid quadrangle into which 
 the passage led. This was Paradise Court. 
 The begrimed, half-windowless houses were 
 high enough to completely exclude the
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 153 
 
 damp November breeze ; but, to compen- 
 sate, the place bad an atmosphere peculiar 
 to itself, equally dank and thick, but not 
 equally inodorous, for, from the slops and 
 household refuse, amongst which rolled 
 many a ragged, sickly-faced babe, picking 
 its dainty scrap of orange-peel or potatoe- 
 paring, arose airs certainly not balmy, and 
 certainly not from heaven. In the centre 
 of the court there had once been a well, 
 but it was always getting dry or choked, 
 and the children occasionally met with 
 accidents in trying to get at its fetid 
 waters. The commissioners, therefore, after 
 the complaints of a few years, put up a 
 pump. The pump-water looked fresh and 
 sparkling, and, according to the inhabi- 
 tants, " didn't smell so over particklar." 
 When the cholera, however, had carried
 
 154 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 off all the court's inhabitants but fifteen, 
 it was found that the shallow spring 
 from whiiih, to the very hour of their 
 death, the poor sufferers had slaked 
 their thirst, received all the surface drain- 
 age. A benevolent lady then came for- 
 ward, and erected a large drinking-foun- 
 tain just outside the passage — too high, 
 it is true, for the children to reach, but, 
 for all that, a God-send. 
 
 At the fourth house Tony stopped, 
 gave a low, peculiar whistle, and listened 
 for an answer. Receiving none, he tied 
 his several parcels of groceries together, 
 held them by one end of the string 
 between his tough little teeth, and clam- 
 bered over the rails into the area. He 
 then opened a basement window, the 
 panes of which were one and all either
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 155 
 
 cracked, covered with cobwebs, or inge- 
 niousl}' patched with brown paper and 
 putty. In a few seconds he was lost to 
 Esther's sight ; but she was not long in 
 discovering that by straining well over a 
 broken part of tlie iron railing, she could 
 plainly hear every word the boy spoke, 
 though the female voice which replied 
 was too indistinct to reach her in any 
 connected phrase. 
 
 " Mary out again, Mammy ? Bother ! 
 couldn't one o' them good-for-nothin 
 youngsters about the court come and sit 
 along with yer? Didn't she fill the kittle? 
 Ain't never a bit o' candle either ?" 
 
 The woman's voice muttered something 
 in a peevish, complaining tone. 
 
 "All right! I got 'em." 
 
 Then came a lidit, and Esther could dis-
 
 156 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 tinguish, through the dirty glass, Tony on 
 his knees before a rusty old grate, arrang- 
 ing a fire .with bits of dried hawthorn 
 twigs, the products of his ramblings in 
 Hornsey Wood, eked out with a few cin- 
 ders, and any odd combustible rubbish he 
 had contrived to collect, and which he kept 
 stowed away in the further corner of the 
 cellar ; for the low bare-walled, unboarded 
 room looked nothing better, though in some 
 preceding generation it might have been a 
 comfortable kitchen. As the fire brightened, 
 fanned by Tony's breath, the contents of 
 the apartment were plainly revealed. 
 
 On an old straw mattress opposite the 
 window, lay a moaning, emaciated woman^ 
 whose relationship to the boy was indicat- 
 ed in each feature of her worn haggard 
 face and each curling lock of her matted,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 157 
 
 uncombed, but, notwithstanding, bright 
 golden hair. She was covered with a 
 tattered brown rug and a youth's great- 
 coat, — the identical great-coat Esther had 
 heard Mrs. Staunton deplore as lost. A red 
 woollen comforter had also departed from 
 its original destination, and was carefully 
 pinned round her head and neck. A 
 half bottomless cane chair was screwed 
 down on her right, and a stout piece of 
 cord fastened from it to an iron nail in 
 the opposite wall, supported, clothes-line 
 fashion, a warm grey woollen curtain 
 which Esther observed was of precisely 
 the same material as the serge dress once 
 intended for Betsy. 
 
 The table in the centre of the room 
 was quite a chef-d'oeuvre of mechanical 
 genius. The half of an old sugar barrel.
 
 158 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 generously given by Tony's friend the 
 grocer, formed its substructure, the top 
 ornamented on its upper side by the bare 
 shoulder and straw hat of a nymph in pink 
 after Watteau, was a transmogrification of 
 a discarded '^ slip," coaxed from " Old 
 Joe," the theatrical carpenter, by dint of 
 two pints of threepenny and an ounce of 
 bird's-eye. 
 
 Upon this article of furniture Tony pro- 
 ceeded to turn out his pockets. The kidney 
 pie appeared first, its luscious juices ex- 
 uding through their ragged envelope ; 
 then came a dirty paint-brush, followed by 
 two slices of bread and a scrap of cold 
 bacon. Finally, issued forth tlie little 
 phial of gin, abstracted, as before seen, 
 from his Grandmamma's cupboard. 
 
 In ten minutes the kettle began singing.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 159 
 
 With pantomime speed the child mixed 
 a brown mug full of grog, refrizzled the 
 remnant of his breakfast, and converted the 
 dry husky bread into slices of hot drip- 
 ping toast. He then went to the mattress, 
 tenderly raised his mother, who all the 
 while kept up what sounded to Esther 
 like a continual complaining, and coaxed 
 and teased her into eating every morsel 
 of what he had prepared. 
 
 Esther fancied she could, even by that 
 dim light, detect a flush and a smile on 
 the pale face as it sank back into its old 
 position to doze in comparative ease. 
 
 Tony continued busy some time longer, 
 opening his groceries, making tea, and 
 putting the spoutless earthenware pot on 
 the hob beside .the kidney pie. This last, 
 though he considered it too indigestible for
 
 160 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 his mother, would be a rare treat to Annie, 
 his sister. 
 
 Then he went through numerous domes- 
 tic offices he was evidently in the habit of 
 performing. Finally, having again made up 
 the fire on the most economical principles, 
 he returned to the bed, gathered the sleeves 
 of the great-coat carefully over the invalid's 
 feet, placed a bit of candle and a match- 
 box by her side, drew the curtain round 
 her head, and as he had entered so made 
 his exit.
 
 161 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FN the excitement of watching the scene 
 *~ recorded in the preceding chapter, 
 Esther forgot how late and cold it was 
 growing. She must have been leaning 
 there nearly half an hour. Her feet were 
 so stiff and benumbed that she almost 
 slipped down in the greasy mud of the 
 passage, now perfectly dark. Her lodgings 
 looked positively cheerful, contrasted with 
 the slushy, foggy streets. Betsy, at whose 
 mercy was not a little of Esther s comfort, 
 had evidently been in a holiday humour, 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Ibr tea was already on the table, and some 
 poached eggs keeping hot in the fender. 
 
 Having changed her wet boots, and hung 
 up her waterproof, Esther began her soli- 
 tary meal, Shakspeare in hand, as usual. 
 But the drama she had just witnessed sur- 
 passed even his in interest that night, and 
 the volume had fallen unnoticed, when the 
 door opened, and Tony himself appeared 
 on the threshold. 
 
 ." May I come in ?" he said. " I see 
 you're 'avin' tea, but I won't be a second. 
 I've been an' fetched them there books you 
 wanted. 'Ere they are. Lacy says they're 
 out o' print, so I run round to the theatre 
 to borrow these till to-morrow. Old Crabs 
 — yer know, that feller yer see me talkin' 
 to at the book-stall — he'll find yer some 
 second'and in a dav or two."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 163 
 
 "Thanks, Tony," replied Esther, taking 
 the volumes, and wondering how he could 
 possibly have done so much in the time 
 she had taken simply to walk home — 
 " thanks. But no, you are not to go yet. 
 I want to have the honour of your com- 
 pany to tea, always provided you take 
 your cap off in the presence of a lady." 
 
 " Oh ! I'd take my skin off for you, I 
 
 would ! Look 'ere, though, if I stop, will 
 
 you make it all right with gran'ma tu-mor- 
 
 row? ni ketch it else, being out so 
 
 ong. 
 
 His hostess, entering into the agreement, 
 at once produced all the luxuries she pos- 
 sessed in the way of cake and jam. While 
 she glanced over the plays just brought, 
 Tony crammed himself, until he declared 
 — he was such a vulgar child — he " must 
 
 M 2
 
 164 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 stand up an' 'ave a drink o' water." Then 
 they drew their chairs cosily before the 
 bright fire, chatting pleasantly, until, by 
 confessing her eavesdropping, Esther gain- 
 ed Tony's entire confidence, and promised 
 herself to assist this labour of filial love, in 
 which she, poor motherless girl, could so 
 deeply sympathise. 
 
 " Bat, my boy," Esther remarked, after 
 a break in tlie dialogue, " don't you think 
 it was rather too bad to commit high- 
 way robbery on your friend w^ith the 
 pie?" 
 
 " No — served 'im right ! — served 'im 
 right !" Tony reiterated, with emphasis. 
 " I never 'its no little uns, no, nor big 
 uns either, that ain't mean. That there 
 lanky chap 'ud never spend wot he got 
 on anybody. Well, now, I spends wot I
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 165 
 
 gets, and I gives it 'em — them as I'm fond 
 of, I mean. Law ! he ain't fund o' no one, 
 he ain't. 'Spose, now," he continued, as if 
 about to tackle an abstruse argument — 
 " 'spose, now, yer spent it, and yer ate it 
 — well, what's the use ? But look 'ere, 
 yer know, when yer gives it away, why, 
 they've got it, an' — an' there it is, yer 
 know." 
 
 Esther laughed, and said she would 
 suppose anything but that it was right to 
 take another boy's property by fist force. 
 
 "Fist force is a jolly good thing for 
 Annie, anyhow. I'll be bound she's tuckin' 
 in that indenticle pie at this blessed mo- 
 ment !" And Tony chuckled, and rubbed 
 his pudgy hands at the thought of it. 
 
 " By-the-by," remarked Esther, finding 
 this last remark incontrovertible, " you
 
 1 ()Q A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 have scarcely told me anything about 
 your sister. What is she like ? Is she 
 like you ?" 
 
 " Like me ? Lor' bless yer, she's as 
 thin as a twig o' young May. She's gen- 
 teel-looking, though ; an' ain't she clever ! 
 She can read a lot better than me, 
 though no one ever learnt her. Ain't she 
 eyes too ! As fine as you've got, only a 
 different sort. I tells 'er they're like 
 saucers, 'cos I don't want 'er to be rollin' 
 'em about like Miss Foster ; but if they 
 
 ain't the biggest, beautifullest Stop a 
 
 moment. Look 'ere. This is 'er." 
 
 Tony took out his pencil, and sketched 
 on the wall, over the mantel-piece, the 
 full face of a large-eyed, serious young 
 girl. 
 
 " What does she do all day ?"
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 167 
 
 " Sometimes one think, sometimes an- 
 other. She's been envelope- makin' lately. 
 I don't care about that. The stoopin' 
 makes 'er chest ache. She's never got no 
 appetite after. The room's so hot in Sum- 
 mer, an' so cold in Winter. I'd rather 
 she'd be tailorin' or ware'ussin', 'cos then I 
 can bring an' take the work, an' Mam's 
 got some un to sit with 'er. Any'ow, she 
 always pays the rent some'ow. Three 
 shillin's a week for that there room — an' 
 it's an 'ole, I call it nothin' better than an 
 'ole. Yes," he continued, apostrophising 
 the sketch, and adding here and there a 
 touch — *' yes, that's you all over, old gal ! 
 Wants a little fillin' out, yer do," Then, 
 sitting down again, he said, with increased 
 fraternal emotion, " An' she's as good as 
 gold, she is ! She never talks to none o'
 
 168 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 til em imperdent sluts about the court ; 
 she's alwa^^s tidy, an' — only she do go on 
 at Mam's sfrumbles a little too strongs. Yer 
 see, women get on better with us men than 
 with one another. Lor ! no one knows 
 how that there poor crittur suffers. I tells 
 Annie of course she's a temper. Ain't she 
 a right to 'ave a temper ? Lyin' there as 
 'elpless as a cat all day long. Lor ! I'd 
 be just like a devil, I know, if it was 
 me. 
 
 " Like a what ? Tony, speak properly, 
 like a good boy, if you can, and tell me 
 how your mother became so poor — that 
 is, if you do not mind giving me your con- 
 fidence." 
 
 " Will you tell me your secrets, then ? 
 Ain't you a lord's daughter, now ? I say, 
 do tell us?"
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 169 
 
 Esther replied that, as it would be a pity 
 to destroy such a lofty illusion by ex- 
 plaining what an ordinary person she was, 
 she should certainly refuse to comply with 
 his request. 
 
 " All risht ! — never mind ! So here ofoes. 
 Well, now," — Tony could not get on at all 
 without his expletives — " well, now, Gran'- 
 nia thinks Mam's in Marylebone work'us, 
 and that Annie's a nuss gal. As you know, 
 she ain't there, an' why ain't she there ? 
 Cos " — here Tony rose from his seat, and 
 looked as majestic as a small grubby boy 
 could look — '• cos / took 'er out. Yer see, 
 she'd never been used to such a place. 
 She was a dressmaker, an' 'ad a business 
 of 'er own when she married father. 
 Father was fond of a drop, an' she 'ad 
 us two an' a baby — he died, poor little
 
 1 70 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Willie ! Lor ! he was a fine child too ! 
 The cholera was what took he an' father 
 off. Then Mam would 'ave nice funerals — 
 she didn't belong to a buryin' society, as 
 I do — that there club, yer know, yer lent 
 me money for. An then I was bad, an 
 altogether we 'ad to leave the 'ouse, and 
 go into one room, an' she took in sewin" 
 by the day. Sometimes she got eighteen- 
 pence an' her vittles, but sometimes she got 
 none, or only ninepence from the shops, an' 
 'ad to provide 'erself, except with tea. 
 So let 'er be workin' twelve or four- 
 teen hours every day, a-wearin her poor 
 old eyes out, as she did, she could 
 scarcely ever make more than six shil- 
 lins a week. I was too little to do 
 anything but eat — I was always a reg'lar 
 beast for that, drat me ! Annie went out
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 171 
 
 a-nursin' for a shillin' a week an' 'er 
 vittles — she was only ten, yer know ; an' 
 'ow Mam managed to pay two shillins an' 
 sixpence a week for the room, an' get 
 Annie clothes, an' feed me, the Lord 
 knows. She did it, anyhow, until she got 
 ill herself, an' then, though it went sadly 
 against 'er, for gran'ma was very bitter 
 with her, an' is to this day, for marryin' 
 father, who, as a scene-painter, ought to 
 have looked 'igher, she says, an' who. 
 she thought, would always have stopped 
 an' lived along with 'er. Any'ow, she 
 did write to gran'ma; and then she took 
 me to live with 'er, but 'ad it writ down 
 I was entirely to be given over to 'er; 
 an' she gave Mam a shillin' a week be- 
 sides. I blubbered like a good 'un to 
 leave Mam ; but Annie took me, an' left
 
 172 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 me there. I took to the cat first, and 
 then I got used to gran'ma ; an' Mam 
 went to the 'ospital, and then to the 
 'ouse ; an' Annie used to come an' see 
 me on a Sunday, an' tell me every- 
 think. An' so, when I grew old enough, 
 we made up our minds she should leave 
 the 'ouse ; an' little by little, Annie an' 
 I managed to get 'er out, cos a gentle- 
 man, who was with a Frenchman, an' who 
 seed me at the theatre one Christmas, 
 'elped us, an' spoke to the guardians, who 
 allow mother three shillin's a week, out- 
 door relief, to this day. He was very 
 kind to us, that gentleman. I carried his 
 luggage to the hotel one day, an' he 
 sent me half-a-crown by the waiter. 
 Grice is a friend o' mine to this day — 
 the waiter, I mean. Then Annie gets
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 173 
 
 four shilliu's a week, an' I does the 
 rest some'ow. So there she is, quite 
 comfortable. I don't think she'll die now ; 
 but when she was very bad, Annie an' 
 I made up our minds we'd do by 'er 
 what she'd done by father an' Willie, 
 and, worst come to the worst, she should 
 'ave a genteel burial. That's why we be- 
 long to the club." 
 
 Esther leant her cheek on her hand, 
 and gazed thoughtfully on Tony's fearless 
 round face. He resumed his sketching on 
 the wall. 
 
 " Do you ever go to church ?" she in- 
 quired, wondering what religious training 
 had formed such a character. 
 
 "Not if I know it!" he answered, 
 continuing his pastime — '* not if I know 
 it!" he repeated, flinging down his pencil
 
 1 74 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 with violence as an unpleasant reminis- 
 cence arose. ^' Last time I went there 
 ■ — well, I was a little shabby, I know, 
 and gran'nia had told me not to go, 
 cos of my jacket an' trowsis, — last time 
 I went there one o' them red beetles 
 comes up an' collars me, ^ Don't allow 
 no beggars 'ere,' says he. He'd 'old o' 
 me tight', or I'd 'ave pitched into 'im, 
 if I'd died for it. Me a beggar indeed! 
 It 'urted my feelin's a little, I can tell 
 yer. Miss Esther, If it had been Annie, 
 she'd 'ave blubbered. Ugh ! all I've 'ad o' 
 their religion's bother enough. It's the 
 same think over an' over again. Not a 
 word of it do I undercumstumble. If I 
 nmst go to church, I'll go to Father 
 Maginn's Chapel. Lots o' poor people 
 there — beggars too, for the matter o' that,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 175 
 
 an' somethink to look at, an' smells nice, 
 an' a jolly lot o' singin'. Only I 'ate 
 them Catholics, yer know." 
 
 ''And pray why?" said Esther. 
 
 "Why? 'Cos o' Guy Fawkes, yer 
 know," he answered, singing out — 
 
 " ' An' the gunpowder treason and plot, 
 I don't know no reason 
 Why gunpowder treason 
 Should ever be forgot.' 
 
 " Yes, all I've had o' their religion's 
 bother enough. A lady come an' read to 
 Mam one day, an' so frightened an' up- 
 setted her, that I throwed all 'er tracks 
 into the rubbish 'ole — all about sinuin' an' 
 the devil. Who'd be sinners, if they was 
 rich ? As if any feller 'ud be a thief if 
 he'd got wot he wanted ! An' think people 
 'uU tell lies if tliey ain't afraid ? It's bein'
 
 176 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 poor makes people sinners. An' about the 
 drink, too ; let 'em give tracks to the gents 
 1 sees come to the theatre as tight as tight. 
 Not a bit o' notice is taken o' them ; but if 
 a feller in the gallery's upset ever so little, 
 isn't he collared by the bobbies in a jiffy? 
 Thmk I don't know why fellers an' women 
 gets tight? It's cos they goes to them 
 ginshops — it's because they feel bad, an' 
 tired, an' hungry, an' got no place com- 
 fortable o' their own. Them places looks 
 so warm an' jolly, an' there's company, an' 
 singin' an' laughin'. Then, when the child- 
 ren's young, they're obliged to carry 'em 
 with 'em. Sometimes the little uns gets a 
 drop, an' they feels more comfortable too ; 
 and so they stops and stops, till all their 
 money's gone, an' is sorry to leave then. 
 It's bad for them little uns, I know ; but,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 177 
 
 lor , if yer only see'd where they live, an' 
 the dirt, an' smell, an quarrellin', an' no 
 vittals ! They ain't got places like Mam's, 
 yer know ; an' she wouldn't have it, if I 
 wasn't wot that there track-woman calls a 
 sinner. If I wasn't a prig, an' a liar, an' a 
 beggar — a beggar from you, Miss Esther, I 
 mean, only I'll pay back some day, 'pon 
 honour I will — if I wasn't to prig from 
 gran'ma, an' tell 'eeps o' lies to her. Mam 
 an' Annie 'ud go to the bad. I ain't like 
 that lanky chap w^ith the pie ; he prigs to 
 get hisself gin, an' prigs from people he's 
 no call on. I only prigs from gran'ma. I 
 know lies an' stealin' 's bad, an' I don't do 
 it for the likin' of it." 
 
 " Surely it would be better to work 
 honestly for them, Tony, and to tell your 
 grandmother you were determined to stick 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 fast to them, because you felt it to be right 
 to do so." 
 
 "Work for 'em !— don't I ? Let a bit o' 
 work come across me, an' whoever sa^^s no 
 to it ! I ain't no patience with fellers that 
 won't work if they can. 'Tain't for them 
 there ought to be work-'usses — I'd let such 
 as them die in the ditch. Never a week 
 goes but I earns four or five shillin's — 
 more than many a man I knows does. 
 But 'tain't always gran'ma can do without 
 me givin' 'er some. Then there's the 
 vittals an' coals. At Christmas I gets a 
 good deal from the pantomimes — but, lor', 
 'ow the money flies ! There's always boots 
 or clothes wanted, for Annie must go re- 
 spectable. Then Mam must 'ave things 
 nice, or they goes agin 'er stomach. Work ! 
 — bless yer, if it was only me, I'd be rich,
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 179 
 
 I would. I could get lots o' situations for 
 myself. Many a gent's took a fancy to 
 me before now. But then, look at them ! 
 An' who's to clean gran'ma's rooms, an' 
 get 'er dinner, an' make 'er laugh, when 
 she's a bit low? Mam 'ud be as dead as 
 a door nail, let alone Annie, who'd 'avo 
 been at the bad long ago, if she 'adn't 
 been an angel, she would. Young Lang, 
 the grocer's son, gave 'er a real gold 
 brooch one day, if she'd promise to go 
 with 'im to see the fireworks on the 
 fifth of November. He's a beast, 
 though, he is, so I made 'er take it 
 'im back. She cried hard about it for 
 a whole week. Yer see, it was a big 
 brooch, an' plain, an' 'eavy. She could 
 'ave popt it for more than a pound. It 
 was awful cold then, too. The snow 'ad 
 
 N 2
 
 180 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 spoilt my luck, so we'd no fire for a few 
 days, an' was altogether down. But says 
 I, ' Annie, my dear, don't let's sell your 
 respectability for a bushel of coals — I've 
 got an 'eap o' money comin' in to-night.' 
 Sure enough, an 'eap did come, for the 
 frost bursted the pipes of the draper's 
 in Church Street, an' I 'elped 'em to 
 scoop out the water — 'elped 'em all night, 
 like a nigger, I did, an' one o' the young 
 men give me sixpence, an' old Williams 
 give me a shillin', an' we 'ad a jolly 
 fire an' pork-chops, instead o' that there 
 rubbishin' finery. She shall 'ave a gold 
 brooch some day, she shall."
 
 181 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 TTTHEN her visitor had left, Esther 
 * ' counted up her worldly goods with 
 the greed of a miser — two gold bracelets, 
 a watch and chain, a locket, and four 
 handsome rings, were all her jewels ; but 
 the dressing-case and desk had massive 
 silver fittings ; and she had a splendid 
 fur cloak, for which her father had paid 
 forty guineas. Tony might sell some of 
 these, if she should not get an engage- 
 ment before her last bank-note was paid 
 away. Then, in return for his agency, 
 she would be able to help him. How
 
 182 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 could he be helped except with money ? 
 She would like to teach him ; but then 
 his time was fully occupied ; and if she 
 kept him with her for an hour or two 
 daily, she would deprive him of his earn- 
 ings during that time. At last she hit 
 upon an expedient, and, on the following 
 day, made him this suggestion : — 
 
 "Tony, how much do you make from 
 four to six o'clock every day ?" 
 
 " It all depends — sometimes somethink, 
 sometimes nothink." 
 
 " What is the most you get ?" 
 
 " Well, I 'ave got as much as two bob." 
 
 " What is two bob ?" 
 
 "Two shillin's, I mean. But that's out 
 o' the way. Sometimes I gets sixpence, 
 sometimes tw^opence. Never can tell what 
 turns up."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 183 
 
 " Then, my dear boy, will you give me 
 those two hours a day of your time for half- 
 a-crown a week ?" 
 
 ''But what to do? Anything a long 
 ways off?" 
 
 " No." 
 •^ "I can get back by the time the theatres 
 open? On account of gran'ma's pupils, you 
 know." 
 
 "Yes. I only wish you to stop in 
 this room with me, and do what I tell 
 you." 
 
 " Well, if it's not murder nor forgin', I'm 
 yer man." 
 
 " Then listen, Tony. I like you very 
 much. I do not like your falsehoods 
 nor your pilferings, and you are a shock- 
 ingly dirty, vulgar little boy. Don't turn 
 so red, dear child, you know I like
 
 184 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 
 
 you. Well, I want to make you clever, 
 so that you may grow rich, and become 
 a good man. First, I want to teach you to 
 read and write." 
 
 " I can read an' write. Why, I showed 
 yer my 'an'-writin^" 
 
 " Yes ; but I mean correctly, so that 
 you might go into a shop or a counting- 
 house." 
 
 " Yer must know 'rithmetic for that." 
 
 ^' I am aware of that ; and, what is 
 worse, I am aware that I don't know 
 much of it myself." 
 
 " Oh ! I do then. I can reckon any- 
 think, I can. If ' bits ' is twopence a 
 pound, an' shin o' beef fippence three 
 fardens, 'ow much will two pound, eleven 
 bounces an' a quarter, 'arf an' 'arf, come 
 to ? I can tell yer that in a jiffy."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 183 
 
 *' Than you are cleverer than I am. 
 But book-keeping is quite a study, and I 
 propose we both learn it together." 
 
 *' Oh, if you don't know it, I don't mind 
 learnin' it of you." 
 
 " Learning it with me, you mean. You 
 must also be present when I study my 
 parts, to observe that I pronounce the 
 words clearly and correctly ; that I never 
 say ' nothink ' instead of ' nothing,' or 
 * cud 'ave 'ad ' instead of ' could have 
 had,' or miss an ' h,' or make any of 
 those mistakes that so easily creep into our 
 way of talking." 
 
 " There now ! If gran'ma ain't been 
 puttin' you up to tellin' me all about my 
 haitches an' things. She's always goin' 
 on at me. But I talks as well as Mam 
 an' Annie an' all the chaps I know. I'm
 
 186 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 jolly glad Gran hain't got time to learn 
 me. What's the use of haitches, I should 
 like to know ?" 
 
 " Because, instead of talking like an 
 ignorant boy, you would speak like a little 
 gentleman." 
 
 "Who wants to be like a little gentle- 
 man ? What good would one o' yer little 
 gentlemen be to Mam or Annie or Gran ? 
 When I've been sent for to clean windies, 
 knives, an' such like, I've seen enough o' 
 yer little gentlemen ! A precious lot of 
 babbies, I call 'em.'* 
 
 " At any rate, you shall read to me 
 until the two hours are up. We will begin 
 to-night." 
 
 Tony's face glowed with delight at the 
 prospect of sitting in that room with Miss 
 Esther every evening.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 187 
 
 " That 'ud be jolly. I say, wouldn't 
 it though ? But — but it ain't you ought 
 to pay me. I ought to be payin you, 
 
 an' yet " He paused, remembering 
 
 he could not afford to pass his time so 
 agreeably for nothing. " Well, there, 
 Miss Esther, I owes yer a 'eap already, 
 but I'll pay yer back some day ; so if 
 ver like to mve us that there two shillin 
 a week besides, I'll stick it on to the 
 account, an' yer shall 'ave a penny a shillin' 
 hinterest on the whole lump." 
 
 " Who taught you to give interest so 
 liberally?" asked Esther, laughing. 
 
 "That's what they does at the pawn 
 shops, an' the loan hoffices, and the 
 leavin' shops ; but then when yer pops 
 anythink, down goes threepence for your 
 ticket to bec^in with ; an' in the loan
 
 188 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 hoffices down goes a tizzy for puttin' yer 
 name down. In the leavin shops yer 
 pays by the hour. Then yer hain't got 
 no watch, so they cheats awful. A organ 
 boy I knows, says, in furrin' parts — it's 
 Hitaly he comes from — the hemperors or 
 governments keeps the pawn-shops and lends 
 'em money cheap. Lor' ! shouldn't I like to 
 pop this 'ere jacket to Queen Victoria! " 
 
 That evening Esther entered on her 
 new employment. Tony's progress was 
 slow. His copy-book she declared " dis- 
 graceful," for its lithographed headings 
 were all tortured into trees or queer faces 
 by his ever-mischievous pencil. Partly, 
 then, for amusement, partly because it 
 came natural to her to help anyone she 
 could help, Esther became the family friend 
 of the Stauntons.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 189 
 
 One thing, however, sadly weighed on 
 her spirits. Since her indulgence in Para- 
 dise Court society, her stock of money 
 rapidly dwindled. In the midst of her 
 lessons with Mrs. Staunton, her conversa- 
 tions with Haynes, or her chats with Tony, 
 this wearing, worrying fact always intruded 
 itself. She still had her jewelry, and 
 Tony had enlightened her as to what base 
 purposes ladies' knick-knacks are occasionally 
 put. With her fur cloak, her possessions 
 would probably realise fifty pounds. That 
 much they must be worth, she thought, 
 for the workmanship of her trinkets was 
 exquisite. 
 
 At the outset of her London life, she 
 imagined that to embark in a successful 
 dramatic career, it would merely be neces- 
 sary to appear before some celebrated
 
 190 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 London manager, recite a prepared speech 
 or two, and enter at once on a remunerat- 
 ive engagement. 
 
 But nothing having come of her inter- 
 view with Mr. G. P. Browne, whose Christ- 
 mas novelty turned out to be an old ex- 
 travaganza resuscitated, she replied to 
 various advertisements in the Era^ a paper 
 Mrs. Staunton bought weekly. She then 
 found herself in communication with dirty 
 tawdry men, who astonished her with pro- 
 posals that, being a novice, she should 
 either pay them for the privilege of ap- 
 pearing at their provincial theatres, or 
 bind herself to take, without any salary 
 whatever, any parts they pleased, for at 
 least three months. One metropolitan 
 manager sent a young man to see her, 
 with instructions that if she was really a
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 191 
 
 handsome girl, with good eyes and legs, 
 he might oflPer her twenty-five shillings a 
 week for the pantomime. More and more 
 disillusioned, Esther again summoned Mr. 
 Haynes, and frankly declared the exact 
 state of her finances ; that is, mentally in- 
 cluding her jewels, she assured him she 
 possessed but fifty pounds in the world. 
 
 "Then I'll tell you the best thing to do," 
 said the little fat man, as if suddenly in- 
 spired with an original idea. " I'll tell 
 you the best thing to do. There's the 
 Diamond Theatre close by. It's just 
 finished re -decorating. Now, I know Smy- 
 thies who's got it, well. He wants to get 
 it let to amateurs and swells for private 
 performances. He'll be glad to let you 
 have it for an opening night, by way of 
 advertisement, for a mere nothing, — most
 
 192 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 
 
 likely for just paying workmen and gas. 
 I can sell you lots of tickets to pay those 
 expenses. I know Mitchell's, Sams, Bubbs, 
 Keith and Prowse, and the lot of 'em. 
 They'll do anything for me. Half-a-dozen 
 gents I know want to get up ' The Lady 
 of Lyons.' Pauline's a capital part for you, 
 and they'll pay for their parts." 
 
 Esther was as yet so blissfully ignorant 
 of how these performances are frequently 
 got up, that she sat in amazed silence, her 
 great eyes opening wider and wider on 
 her companion's comically shrewd face. 
 
 " Yes, they'll pay for their parts. 
 'Claude' will fetch three pound. Lieuten- 
 ant Snelgrove always pays that for the 
 best parts. He squints a little with one 
 eye, but you won't mind that. Then Mr. 
 Rudolphus Wilkins, he's a bit of a muff.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 193 
 
 For the life of you you'll not be able to 
 help laughing at him ; but ^ Damas' for him 
 is as good as two guineas. ' Glavis ' and 
 the other parts fetch — say on an average — 
 five to ten shillings a-piece. They all find 
 their own dresses, of course. I daresay too, 
 they'll get up a little supper after. There ! 
 I'm sure I've hit on the best thing you 
 can do." 
 
 "But I should never be able to ar- 
 range all this," said Esther, quite be- 
 wildered. 
 
 " Leave all the arrangements to me. 
 Mrs. Staunton and me 'ull manage it." 
 
 Esther, alarmed at the strange aspect her 
 affairs had taken, did not know what to 
 say. Haynes therefore resumed, with a 
 considerable dash of persuasion in his 
 voice, 
 
 VOL. r. o
 
 194 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 " You know, miss, the gentlemen must 
 see you do something before they will en- 
 gage you. How can I get you anything 
 worth having unless you are seen ? Now, 
 when we get up this performance, we'll 
 invite all the managers in London, and it's 
 my opinion, — I'm a matter-o'-fact man — 
 don't suppose I'm not, miss " 
 
 Esther waived her hand, deprecating the 
 idea that any doubt had crossed her. 
 
 " I'm a matter-o'-fact man, and it's my 
 opinion they'll all be wild — yes, be wild to 
 get you, and you'll make your own terms. 
 Now, what do you say to it ?" 
 
 Still Esther remained silent. It seemed 
 such an extraordinary thing to undertake. 
 Her next thought she spoke aloud. 
 
 " I have so little money."
 
 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 195 
 
 " Money ? My dear young lady, money?" 
 said Haynes, pushing aside his chair, and 
 taking up a Napoleonesque altitude oppo- 
 site the old horse-hair sofa on which she 
 sat. " I pledge you my honour it shall 
 cost a mere trifle — and fifty pounds is not 
 a trifle in my eyes. Let us go into it. Say 
 printing ten pounds, and advertisements ten 
 pounds. Well, you make that twenty 
 pounds by selling the parts. Then say only a 
 hundred and fifty tickets sold — why, you 
 pocket something besides. Now do put 
 your mind at ease. Leave it to me and 
 Mrs. Staunton, and you're all right." 
 
 *' Yes," said Esther, thoughtfully. " But 
 
 " But what, my dear miss ?" asked 
 Haynes, soothingly, with an expression 
 
 o2
 
 196 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 people have when trying to pat a lap-dog 
 into docility. " Now but what ?" 
 
 " If these gentlemen are so anxious to 
 get up a performance, why not let them 
 take the theatre? I would pay them 
 for the privilege of acting Pauline. The 
 managers could come just as easily to see 
 me, and I should escape the business re- 
 sponsibility, of which I am quite ignorant. 
 Indeed, I should be afraid " 
 
 "Ah! If you're afraid, of course that's 
 another thing. But I must tell you, if you 
 are, you'll never get on in the dramatic 
 profession " 
 
 Esther changed her attitude and sat 
 upright. Courage she considered her 
 forte. Haynes had touched a penetrable 
 point. 
 
 " There is something in what you say,
 
 A FIRST APPEARAXCE. 197 
 
 though," he continued, "if it could be manag- 
 ed. But then it can't. I thought of that very 
 idea myself; but, you see, my dear young 
 ladv, these are all fTentlemen in business. 
 Even Snelgrove, though he's a Lieutenant 
 in the Volunteers, is a clerk in the Bank as 
 well. Young Wilkin's father's a parson. 
 Mr. Barrett's in a City warehouse ; and 
 Morrison and Brownrigg, his employers, 
 would fight shy of him if he went in for 
 theatricals The minor parts wouldn't 
 think it worth their while, and some of 
 'em are so awful vulgar, I wouldn't have 
 you appear under their management, was 
 it ever so. No ; depend on it I'll advise 
 you for your own good. Haven't I been 
 in the profession — T was going to say 
 sixteen years, but I may say ever since I 
 was born ; for my father was in it before
 
 198 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 me, and my mother's doing heavy ladies at 
 Brighton at this very day. If you think I 
 don't know how to bring out a young lady, 
 as she ought to be brought out as a lady, 
 I can refer you to any member of any 
 theatre in the provinces, or the metropolis, 
 or New York itself However, think over 
 it. Dont't take my advice. Consult with 
 your friends," — the agent guessed pretty 
 well her friendless position by this time, — 
 " and when you've come to a conclusion drop 
 me a line, and I'm your servant. I can't 
 tell you, my dear Miss Cowen, what a deep 
 interest I take in you. It's because " — here 
 Haynes attempted sentiment — " it's because 
 you're so like a poor dear sister of 
 mine. She's gone now. I've never been 
 the same man since ; but I'm getting 
 melancholy. Good-bye — good-bye. If you
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 199 
 
 want me, I'm yours at any moment. Good- 
 bye." 
 
 Esther accompanied him nearly to the 
 door of the room, and returned saying to 
 herself, " I daresay he's not a bad-hearted 
 man after all ;" then she sat down with 
 her back to the light and reviewed her 
 position, until it was time to go to Mrs 
 Staunton. 
 
 Haynes jumped into a hansom and was 
 hard at work in his office until six 
 o'clock. When the regular agency busi- 
 ness was over, he sketched, for his private 
 convenience, the following estimate of 
 the money that would pass through his 
 hands in connection with the perform- 
 ance he intended arranging at Esther's 
 expense, and of the share that would 
 stick to them in its passage : —
 
 200 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 To be received from Client Actual Balance 
 
 and for parts. Expenses. for self. 
 
 £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. 
 
 Theatre 25 Theatre 12 10 12 10 
 
 Gas 10 Gas 5 5 
 
 Workmen 13 5 6 Workmen 3 5 6 10 
 
 "Ss'^rompter)} '<><' Mrs. Stam^ton... 1 00 2 00 
 
 Printing 18 Printing 6 12 
 
 Advertisements 20 Advertisements.. 8 12 
 
 Cabhire 300 Cab hire 100 2 00 
 
 For Claude's part 5 
 
 Pay Miss Co wen) « a ^ q n n 
 
 for Claudes part)" ^ " " "^ " " 
 
 For Damas's part 40 Ditto for Damas's) ^ ^^ 3^0 
 
 part. 
 
 Total 101 5 6 39 15 6 61 10 
 
 Esther's remark was not so very wrong. 
 Haynes was not by any means bad- 
 hearted, but he was above all a business 
 man, and had only that shifting kind of 
 principle, that elastic species of morality, 
 which seems especially to characterise agents, 
 whether house agents, governess agents, thea- 
 trical agents, or agents of any class. The 
 real profits of these people being seldom de- 
 rived from direct letting or hiring, their 
 advantages spring from a thousand incal- 
 culable odds and ends, of which, until
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 201 
 
 fairly within their clutches, an employer 
 forms no idea. As to Haynes's last pro- 
 posal, Esther had serious misgivings. But 
 her circumstances were growing desperate. 
 She had gone too far to recede. 
 
 She felt she must venture almost any- 
 thing, even placing herself at the mercy 
 of one whose unscrupulousness she was 
 too penetrating not to perceive. Her 
 appreciation of Mrs. Staunton's, Haynes's, 
 and Tony's characters was most exact. 
 Money, she knew, was the main want 
 of all three, and all three thought their 
 El Dorado discovered in one whose need 
 of wealth, and the protection it gives, 
 was more ursjent than their utmost ne- 
 cessities. Haynes fully believed Esther's 
 statement as to the amount of her posses- 
 sions. He knew he was oroinG: to fleece
 
 202 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 
 
 her of every vestige, but if she made 
 a hit, the engagement sure to ensue 
 thereon would compensate her; if she 
 failed — beautiful and clever women do 
 sometimes fail — at all events she could 
 return to her friends, wealthy friends he 
 felt sure, who would of course amply 
 indemnify him. 
 
 Mrs. Staunton took genuine interest 
 in her pupil, apart from pecuniary con- 
 sideration. She had always been the 
 most uncalculating of housewives, shuffl- 
 ing on from hand to mouth with phi- 
 losophical laisser-aller. She seemed to 
 think Esther's five pound-note would hold 
 out for ever, though in half an hour 
 it was changed for Miss Foster's porter; 
 Miss Foster, the young lady Esther had 
 so mercilessly exposed in flagrante delicto.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 203 
 
 Regarding Haynes's project Mrs. Staunt- 
 on refused to incur the responsibility of ad- 
 vising. She merely promised her assistance, 
 in case it was carried out, undertaking the 
 two especially difficult offices, where ama- 
 teurs are concerned, of promptress and 
 stage directress. Tony was to be cla- 
 queur^ call-boy, porter, assistant scene- 
 shifter, messenger, and a dozen other 
 things. But all under protest, for, as 
 Esther sat that afternoon on the edge 
 of his mother's mattress, — the room not 
 yet boasting the cane chair she had 
 ordered, as Annie's birthday present, — he 
 boldly expressed his entire disapprobation 
 of the scheme — thus concluding a lengthy 
 if not logical argument ostensibly ad- 
 dressed to his mother. 
 
 *' I tell yer what it is. He's goin' to
 
 204 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 wictimise 'er. He is, as sure as a gun. 
 Don't it stand to reason ? Else, why don't 
 he take the theatre and get up the perform- 
 ance hisself? He ain't none too rich to 
 look down on what 'ud really make money. 
 Is he, Mam ? " 
 
 " I do think he's right, miss," Mrs. Staun- 
 ton, jun., replied feebly, " and you would 
 be sure there's some partickler reason why 
 the child don't want you to 'ave nothink 
 to do with it, if you knew how fond he is 
 of 'avin' 'is 'air done by the 'airdresser as 
 waits on the ladies them nights, and how 
 he do enjoy showin' hisself off a bit." 
 
 "No, I don't. I don't enjoy showin' off, 
 mother — an' — an' — why it's years since he 
 did my 'air," Tony blustered out, blushing 
 all over at the unpleasant turn given to the 
 conversation.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 205 
 
 When Esther returned home, she sat 
 still, staring into the red-hot fire, as if coun- 
 sel and fate could be read in its caverns. 
 Tony said Haynes was going to victimise 
 her. Could she avoid being victimised ? 
 Each of her London acquaintances had a 
 mercenary interest in her. But they knew 
 the exact state of her finances. This only 
 proved, therefore, that they considered hers 
 a really productive talent. Her emergency, 
 she felt convinced, was merely temporary. 
 After a success, Mrs. Staunton, as well as 
 Mr. Haynes, said she could command almost 
 any terms. That she would succeed, even 
 Mr. G. P. Browne, that Fadladeen of critics, 
 had not doubted. Still, as Tony observed, 
 if this was to be really a profitable perform- 
 ance, why did not Mr. Haynes take it 
 upon himself?
 
 206 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Fully ten minutes Esther thought over 
 this. Five minutes would generally have 
 sufficed her to see round, through, over, and 
 under any such suggestion. Then she rose, 
 lighted her candle, drew out her desk, and, 
 within a quarter of an hour, had posted the 
 following letter ; — 
 
 " Cecil Street, 
 November 2nd. 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 '* After deliberation I feel that 
 I am too ignorant to take the responsibility 
 of the ^Diamond' entertainment on my very 
 young inexperienced shoulders, although 
 you and Mrs. Staunton have so kindly offer- 
 ed to superintend the professional part. 
 You assure me that it will, to use your ex- 
 pression, ' make money. ' As a business 
 man it is more your business to make money
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 207 
 
 than mine. Why, therefore, not engage 
 the theatre and performers for yourself? I 
 would willingly pay you ten pounds for the 
 opportunity of making a debut 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 ^' Esther Cowen." 
 
 Then Esther rang for tea, — tea and those 
 everlasting poached eggs. Ordering food 
 was a daily grievance. It so happened 
 whenever she felt herself most thoroughly 
 Desdemona, Imogen, or Viola, in rushed 
 Betsy with, " Please, butcher's here, and 
 what's for dinner ?" Eating alone, too, 
 made her appetite flag. If Tony dropped 
 in about dinner time, she made an excellent 
 meal ; if not, unromantic as it sounds, she 
 bolted her food in a few minutes. Betsy 
 said downstairs that "it was all along o'
 
 208 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 
 
 this she looked so pale now-a-days, this an' 
 livin' lonesome enouorh to sfive a cat the dis- 
 
 o o 
 
 mals." Perhaps the maid of all work was 
 right. At any rate, Esther was dismal 
 enough next morning. She awoke before 
 dawn with a sick headache — quite a No- 
 vember dawn of grey-brown hue, that 
 ushered in only just enough daylight to 
 force lier from the solacing fire to the cold 
 moist window-sill. There, book in hand, 
 she sat recalling all the saddest of her 
 memories, and prospecting the drear waste 
 of all her hopes. She was in the worst 
 mood for combating a difficulty ; out of 
 spirits and, not having yet breakfasted, out 
 of strength. So when Haynes entered 
 rather unceremoniously, after Betsy's grum- 
 bled announcement, who " hated people 
 a-comin' when she was sweepin' up," the
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 209 
 
 agent had Esther at a decided advan- 
 tage. 
 
 " Good morning," she said rather abrupt- 
 ly. " I suppose you are come about the 
 ' Diamond ' performance ?" 
 
 " That is my business, miss, but if you're 
 engaged, or I happen to be too early, 
 ril drop in again by-and-by." 
 
 '' No, no. Be seated. I only hap- 
 pen to have a splitting headache. It's the 
 weather." 
 
 ^' Well, I'd rather the weather get the 
 blatne of it than me. I'll not bother you 
 long, but just explain why I can't mix 
 myself up in the theatre as you pro- 
 pose." 
 
 "You cannot take it yourself, then?" 
 Esther returned, pushing her hair back 
 from her forehead as she tried to collect 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 her thoughts in spite of its throbs. ^' Why 
 not?" 
 
 " Because you see, miss, I'm not a young 
 lady." 
 
 " Of course not ! How does that inca- 
 pacitate you?" 
 
 ^'Ha! ha! ha I" Haynes laughed, — 
 laughing because he thought especial joviali- 
 ty on his part might counteract her 
 unusual gloominess, and make things go 
 pleasantly. " I don't mean to say, miss, 
 that I am physically incapacitated, but 
 it wouldn't do. It really would not 
 do." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Because you see, my dear young lady, 
 Smythies wouldn't have it ; and the ladies 
 and gentlemen wouldn't have it ; so I 
 couldn't have it." Then, pausing, disappoint-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 211 
 
 ed of even a smile in reply to his jocosity, 
 he continued : — " The long and short of 
 it is, miss, that I, as was my father before 
 me, have been a theatrical agent all my 
 life ! " 
 
 ^'Well?" 
 
 " Well, yes, done well, considering. But 
 if I were to go in for transformin' of a 
 theatrical aojent into a theatrical manager, 
 it 'ud end in my having to withdraw from 
 both them professions. It 'ud be setting 
 up in opposition to my own patrons, 
 and all them ladies and gentlemen as 
 I didn't at once offer enorao^ements to, 
 'ud at once take their names off my 
 books." 
 
 Esther was too ill to argue the point 
 any further. Mr. Haynes attributed her 
 
 p2
 
 212 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 silence to acquiescence in his plans, and 
 in a few days arrangements were made 
 for a rehearsal.
 
 213 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 rriHE weather continued foggy and rainy, 
 -■- but Esther, in waterproof and go- 
 loshes, tripped down slushy St. Giles's in 
 excellent spirits. The excitement buoyed 
 her up. 
 
 When she reached Mrs. Staunton's she 
 insisted on hiring a cab, though the old 
 lady feebly remonstrated against the ex- 
 travagance. Tony fetched it, steadfastly 
 refusing to let Esther pay an extra six- 
 pence for him, but not too proud to 
 cling on at the back, avoidinor the sus-
 
 214 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 picious Jehu's " cuts behind," with practised 
 dexterity. When they stopped at the 
 stage door, he flew past them into the 
 theatre, dusted two front stalls with his 
 red cotton handkerchief, and returned to 
 hand them over the pit benches. 
 
 " Come along, ladies," he said. " Here's 
 two seats. Old Johnson's behind, and 
 Foster with one of her swells a-comin' 
 up the street. He stopped his carriage a- 
 purpose to walk with her. Won't she 
 think no small beer of 'erself now ? Sit 
 still a bit, Miss Esther. Law ! ain't you 
 got a colour !" 
 
 " Tony, do not be so excessively rude," 
 said his grandmother, as she drew him 
 towards her, to straighten his unusually 
 clean collar, and pull down his jacket. 
 
 "Oh, and 'eres 'Aynes all right," con-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 215 
 
 tinued the restless urchin, fidgeting out 
 of her grasp. "Ain't he been an' got 
 hisself up too ! See his choker, gran'ma. 
 An', oh my eyes ! Why he's got a ring 
 as good as old Johnson's." 
 
 Mr. Johnson was said to be a decay- 
 ed gentleman ? His seediness and general 
 shabbiness certainly justified the ad- 
 jective. His gentility might be attribut- 
 ed to a gloomy, almost saturnine gravity, 
 and an " ofF-colour" diamond ring, dis- 
 played, upon all great occasions, on a grimy 
 little finger. Having black eyebrows, 
 and a " good frown," he was often cast 
 for leading villains. He was also con- 
 sidered adaptable to T. P. Cooke's best 
 parts, William, in " Black-eyed Susan," 
 and " The jolly young waterman." On this 
 occasion, however, he descended to the
 
 216 A FIKST APPEARANCE. 
 
 office of door-keeper and ticket - taker. 
 Lieutenant Snelgrove next arrived, and was 
 introduced to Esther as her Claude. 
 He squinted atrociously, and when im- 
 pressed by the unusual attractions of his 
 Pauline, he fixed his straight eye senti- 
 mentally upon her, the other cocked up 
 so comically that Tony coughed until the 
 veins of his forehead swelled with sup- 
 pressed laughing. Mr. Rudolphus Wilkins 
 followed; he lisped, and was unmistake- 
 ably knock-kneed, but since he paid to play 
 Damas, as the blunt warrior must he be 
 cast. 
 
 The minor characters all looked very 
 slovenly in their curious hats and neckties, 
 and all smelt more or less of tobacco. 
 They were lively and good-natured, and 
 paid immense respect to Esther. Miss
 
 A FIRST APPE AR ANCE . 2 1 7 
 
 Foster was to play Madame Deschapelles. 
 In all the glory of new pink bonnet and 
 black velvet jacket, she stood in a side 
 box, doing her best to captivate a tall 
 distinguished-looking gentleman who ap- 
 peared willing enough to become her 
 victim. 
 
 The other ladies had such easy fluent 
 speech, such a charming gaiety of manner, 
 such perfect self-possession, that Esther, 
 feeling sure they must be immeasurably 
 cleverer than she was, took the first op- 
 portunity of shrinking into a quiet corner. 
 Then the ladies set her down as " proud," 
 and were all the more eag;er to secure 
 her acquaintance. Indeed their friendliness 
 and frankness grew quite overwhelming. 
 They called her "my dear," cautioned 
 her one against the other, expatiated on
 
 218 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 their appreciated or unappreciated genius, 
 until Esther could not repress a sigh of 
 relief when she heard the call-boy Tony's 
 bell. 
 
 The word " rehearsal " had hitherto con- 
 veyed to her mind an idea of serious exalted 
 study, and she felt more bewildered than 
 ever when the dramatis personce began to 
 gabble off their lines, sauntering L.R., C, 
 R.U.E., or wherever Lacy's edition might 
 indicate, with hats on, arms akimbo, or 
 anyhow. Most of them refused to acknow- 
 ledge that they ever studied, and tried to 
 impress Esther with the idea that art came 
 by inspiration. But on this score Miss 
 Foster's fibbings had enlightened her ; and 
 she attached as little importance to their 
 boasting, as one does to that of the amateur 
 pianist who declares he can play compo-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 219 
 
 sitioas at sight that would cost a Thalberg 
 days of hard practice. The poetry with 
 which Esther had invested theatrical life 
 faded more and more rapidly. A melan- 
 choly despair seized her. But, for all that, 
 her determination to succeed never wavered. 
 The necessity of a serious thorough repeti- 
 tion of her first part on the identical boards 
 upon which she was to make her debut^ 
 seemed now more urgent than ever. Yet 
 the dread of appearing conspicuous would 
 certainly have restrained her, had not Mrs. 
 Staunton, experienced old stager, read her 
 pupil's countenance, and remonstrated on 
 the folly of mauvaise honte before such a 
 company. 
 
 " When I played," observed the old lady, 
 quite angrily, " with Mr. Kemble, Miss 
 O'Neill, and other great ones, they worked
 
 220 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 indefatigably, and were not too conceited 
 to rehearse the same passage twenty times 
 over in one morning." 
 
 "An' wlien it comes off, Miss Esther," 
 added Tony, who had returned to Mrs. 
 Staunton's side '' you'll see what a precious 
 deal their nature's done for 'em. They'll 
 look naturals then, an' no mistake. Won't 
 they, gran'ma?" 
 
 Grandmamma was too much chagrined 
 by the evident incapacity of her pupil's 
 " supporters " to reply. She sat still, her 
 thin lips twitching with suppressed indig- 
 nation, until the cue was given which Esther 
 awaited in intense alarm. 
 
 "Now, my dear, go on! Come, come, 
 no nonsense ! Keep well in front, and 
 don't hurry." 
 
 Esther went on. The chattering in the
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 221 
 
 side-box ceased. Everyone was listening. 
 But she could not speak ; she felt giddy. 
 
 Tony upset one of the benches, and said 
 something loudly to Mrs. Staunton. Then 
 Esther looked towards her friends, and 
 began ; inarticulately at first, but by de- 
 grees entering into her part, until at length 
 she grew so wholly absorbed that all trace 
 of stage-fright disappeared. When, at the 
 conclusion of her last " length," she ad- 
 vanced to the footlights, excitement had so 
 heightened her beauty of colour and expres- 
 sion, that it was positively overwhelming. 
 Her action might be a trifle too rapid, 
 but it never once lost its unimpeachable 
 grace. In no position were the lines of her 
 lithe supple form ever thrown out of har- 
 mony. 
 
 " You only want a little practice, miss,"
 
 222 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 said one of the amateurs patronisingly. 
 
 *^ We shall get on very well by-and-by," 
 said another, attempting to shake hands 
 with her. Tony came round, and led her 
 back to Mrs. Staunton. 
 
 *'My dear," said the old lady, patting 
 her softly on the shoulder, " I told you 
 you were safe ; but you hurried a little. 
 Yes, it certainly was rather hurried." 
 
 " By Gad !" ejaculated Haynes, coming 
 down from the gallery quite out of breath, 
 " Mrs. Staunton, my good madam, she'll 
 make her fortune in a year." 
 
 The conversation in the side-box re-com- 
 menced. 
 
 *^ It's really too absurd, showing off like 
 this at rehearsal. Of course one can see 
 she is quite a novice, but I am surprised, 
 Mr. Gerald, to hear you admire her figure.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 223 
 
 You told me half an hour ago you couldn't 
 bear lanky women." 
 
 "Now did I say I admired her figure? 
 I must have been thinking of some one 
 else's plump little form. But I must tear 
 myself away. Ta-ta, ta-ta." 
 
 And, without further ceremony, Miss 
 Foster's companion sauntered out of the 
 box, He was soon within a few benches 
 of Mrs. Staunton, speaking to Haynes, who 
 had on his most business-like, yet de- 
 ferential expression. 
 
 " What the deuce d'ye mean by bring- 
 ing her out in this ridiculous manner? 
 You surely cannot mean her to appear 
 here, with this set of muffs, on the 
 fifteenth ?" 
 
 " Now don't you recollect, sir," ex- 
 postulated Haynes, '^ you wrote me word
 
 224 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 that you must see something rehearsed 
 before you could decide as to the capacity 
 of any of my fair clients ? And if you 
 only knew, sir, the trouble and expense 
 — an enormous expense, pon my honour, 
 sir, I've been at to get this affair up. 
 If I'm one penny out of pocket it '11 cost 
 me 
 
 '' No details, my good fellow, no de- 
 tails. Now introduce me, for I think 
 she may do." 
 
 Haynes fussily pushed aside the forms 
 for his patron. Mrs. Staunton and Tony 
 rose. Esther kept her seat, bowing slightly 
 in acknowledgment of the introduction. 
 He paid her some ordinary compliments. 
 She made no reply, but observed in a 
 glance that he was handsome, well bred, 
 and evidently not of the set to which
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 225 
 
 she at present belonged. He was not 
 young, though no tinge of grey softened 
 the brightness of his rich brown hair, 
 no deepening line on his high but by 
 no means broad forehead prognosticated 
 a wrinkle. His voice was clear and 
 manly, a little too loud, perhaps, but it 
 suited his air de grand seigneur^ and 
 made his undertones the more fascinating. 
 His fine impudent grey eyes seemed al- 
 ways laughing. He looked in such im- 
 perturbable good-humour with himself and 
 all about him, that every one liked him, 
 and he carried everything his own way, 
 by apparently never dreaming he could 
 be contradicted. 
 
 Mr. Gerald was now in London for 
 the express purpose of producing a drama, 
 written some years previously, but never 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 brought out, for the want of a suitable 
 heroine. A suitable heroine was every- 
 thing to the play, for its interest was 
 almost concentrated on the Venetian 
 Countess herself— a great defect accord- 
 ing to some modern managers, who con- 
 sider action everything and the characters 
 m7, a defect, however, for which Gerald 
 had many an illustrious precedent. At 
 any rate, the striking originality of the 
 plot, the novelty of the situations, and 
 its exquisite language, more than com- 
 pensated for the discontent of a few 
 minor actors. 
 
 All the qualities required in a Juliet 
 were required in the Countess, — youth, 
 grace, beauty, above all, intensity of pas- 
 sion. The last proved to be the diffi- 
 culty. Young and beautiful actresses
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 227 
 
 abounded, but intensity of feeling could 
 only be procured in mature women. 
 Several ambitious young ladies, Miss Foster 
 among the number, had rehearsed the part, 
 but Mr. Gerald had never been able to 
 infuse the true verve into their render- 
 ing of it. They might act the character 
 tolerably, but, to satisfy him, they must 
 feel it as he did. Now that eveningr 
 
 o 
 
 Esther, notwithstanding her disadvantage- 
 ous surroundings, had thoroughly forgot- 
 ten herself in her author's conception. 
 If Mr. Gerald saw she was nervous and 
 inexperienced, he also saw she could be 
 in earnest. That was what he wanted. 
 Mrs. Staunton's pupil should do his Coun- 
 tess. He sat down by the old lady, al- 
 luding to those days when she and the 
 drama were both in their prime; and 
 
 q2
 
 228 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 whilst she expatiated on the genius of 
 her contemporaries, he noted Esther's at- 
 tractions from a theatrical point of view. 
 But Esther was very tired, and after a 
 few moments she asi^ed Tony to accom- 
 pany her to a cab. 
 
 Miss Foster, with all her coquetry, could 
 not have arranged a better display of 
 her personal advantages than Esther made 
 unconsciously, as she crossed the rows 
 of benches, assisted by the little boy. 
 None but an Irish girl accustomed to 
 bog-ruts and stepping-stones, could have 
 tripped over those forms so gracefully. 
 Her foot too was exquisite, even in 
 goloshes. She was dreadfully tired, and 
 on her way to Cecil Street, remarked, for 
 the first time, how horribly London cabs 
 jolted, and how distractingly their ill-fitting
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 229 
 
 windows clattered. For once, too, Betsy 
 had let the fire go out in her room ; 
 and as it was past ten o'clock when she 
 reached her lodgings, she would not 
 trouble her to re-kindle it, or to make 
 tea, but went, cold and faint, to her 
 comfortless bed.
 
 230 
 
 M 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 RS. STAUNTON, Tony, and Mr. Gerald 
 remained until the second and third 
 
 pieces were gone through. Mr. Gerald took 
 Mrs. Staunton into his confidence respecting 
 the Venetian Countess, and Mrs. Staunton 
 grew elated at her pupil's prospects. 
 
 " I'll make her do it, sir. I'll make 
 her do it, and she will be such a hit, — 
 my word on it, Mr. Gerald, — as has not 
 been within your recollection. She will 
 look your part admirably." 
 
 '' She is certainly a striking-looking 
 person."
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 231 
 
 "Ay, — but she was not looking well to- 
 night. Was she, Tony ?" 
 
 " I think she always looks well, gran'- 
 ma. 
 
 " Has she a quick study?" 
 
 " A most remarkable facility. She learn- 
 ed ' Mrs. Haller ' in one afternoon." 
 
 "An 'ated that part, she did. Don't 
 you remember, gran'ma, she said, * no les- 
 sons in the world could make her play 
 such stuff?' " 
 
 " She could have played it, my dear, if 
 I had taught her. Though she has her 
 fancies, I admit." 
 
 " Pray Heaven, then, that she may fancy 
 the Countess ! If I send the manuscript 
 to-morrow, by what day d'ye think she'll 
 be prepared to read it ?" 
 
 "Let me see! To-day's Tuesday. At
 
 232 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 eleven to-morrow she comes for her lesson. 
 If you send it before that time, we could 
 go over it once or twice then, — on Wednes- 
 day morning also. By Thursday afternoon 
 I daresay she will be sufficiently familiar 
 with its chief points, to give you a fair 
 idea of our conception of it." 
 
 " Does she live with you ?" 
 
 " No, she lodges in the Strand. Do not 
 fidget so, Tony." 
 
 ^' There are tw^o or three passages I am 
 rather fastidious about. We may have to 
 make her read them several times." 
 
 '^ Oh I she'll know everything about 'em 
 in a jiify," said Tony, exasperated at his 
 ideal being canvassed so coolly. 
 
 "Tony, be silent, do !" said gran'ma. 
 
 Mr. Gerald wished her good night. Miss 
 Foster beckoned him with her lace hand-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 233 
 
 kerchief, and in order that his name might 
 be added to the list of her admirers, coaxed 
 him to drive her home in his cabriolet. 
 Not that she really cared one jot about him 
 — he was far too refined to be " her style ;" 
 she only cared for the honour and glory 
 that his supposed admiration would reflect 
 upon her in the eyes of her intrigue-lov- 
 ing circle. 
 
 Mrs. Staunton and her grandson walked 
 leisurely home. The old actress was tough 
 and strong, in spite of her pale cheeks 
 and withered form. She was inured to 
 late hours, and never felt so well as when 
 the approaching debut of some young pupil 
 revived theatrical excitement. 
 
 She was so unusually sanguine and elated 
 regarding Esther, that she ungrudgingly 
 acceded to Tony's suggestion that " two
 
 234 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 pints o' beer an' a crab 'ud be something 
 like a tuck." 
 
 By ten o'clock next moiling, Mr. Gerald 
 sent his valet with the play. Seeing a 
 boy mopping the passage, the valet said, 
 
 " Here, you youngster, give this 'ere 
 parcel to yer missus, and see if there's a 
 hanswer. Sharp !" 
 
 Tony twirled his mop nearer to the 
 flunkey's face than was pleasant, and then 
 stood poking his tongue out until Mrs. 
 Staunton herself majestically received the 
 messenger, and soundly rated her grandson 
 for his *' excessively vulgar conduct." 
 
 Esther arrived shortly after, and while 
 Mrs. Staunton skimmed the first sheets 
 of the drama, took the opportunity of 
 whispering something to Tony, that caused 
 him to bound out of the room, and
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 235 
 
 run without stopping to his mother's. 
 
 Then Esther sat, dreamily peering into 
 the fire, until Mrs. Staunton came to the 
 end of Act 1. 
 
 '*My dear," said the old lady, as she 
 took off her glasses and wiped them, — 
 " if Mr. Gerald had known you from 
 infancy, he could not have depicted a 
 character or person more close in its 
 resemblance to yourself It's the very 
 thing for you !" 
 
 " Do you think so ?" Esther replied, 
 wearily. 
 
 She was no longer so enthusiastic as 
 formerly. Besides, she felt tired to begin 
 with ; for her usual visit to Tony's people 
 had that morning been protracted to 
 more than two hours ; and witnessing 
 sickness and poverty frequently over-
 
 236 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 powered her nerves. Yes — she began 
 to find she had nerves now. 
 
 "I am sure so, my dear. See here ! 
 The heroine ought evidently to be a tall, 
 slight girl about seventeen." 
 
 " But I am nearly twenty." 
 
 *' On the stage, my child, you will barely 
 look seventeen." 
 
 " Then," continued Esther, glancing 
 over Mrs. Staunton's shoulder at a pas- 
 sage in the open page, " here she is de- 
 scribed ^as a lily in whiteness,' now I'm 
 not pale enough for that." 
 
 "I am sorry to say you look so this 
 morning. Tony tells me you seem growing 
 a little weak." 
 
 " Oh, I'm very well. Then what have I 
 to do?" 
 
 " It appears," said Mrs. Staunton, resum-
 
 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 237 
 
 ing her spectacles and the manuscript, 
 "in the first scene you have only two 
 words to utter, ' Never again — never again,' 
 but the business is beautiful. It says, 
 * Piazza San Marco by moonlight.' A 
 very pretty scene that will make. A 
 gondola is to be seen rowing slowly out 
 of sight ; you remain by the water's edge, 
 standing, one hand over your brow, 
 thus — " and the old actress stood up, 
 and assumed a picturesque pose — " your 
 gaze must be riveted on the boat, your 
 ears drinking each sound of the departing 
 oar as if it struck the knell of all your 
 fondest hopes ; then you pronounce slowly 
 — no, you don't pronounce them, you must 
 merely moan out the words thus, ' Never 
 again — never again,' and your hand must 
 fall, like mine, slowly and heavily. A
 
 238 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 slight spasm must pass over your face, 
 and with a low heart-broken sob you 
 then fall senseless on the stage. Now 
 that business will be very effective, exceed- 
 ingly effective, my dear, if managed well." 
 
 " But I'm sure I could not do it, unless 
 I knew why I had to feel so miser- 
 able." 
 
 "Well, well, let uS go straight through 
 it." 
 
 They sat down on the sofa, holding the 
 manuscript between them. Esther grew 
 immensely interested. The descriptions of 
 the dark-eyed, graceful heroine fitted her 
 exactly ; and when she afterwards read it 
 aloud to her teacher, it was evident she 
 already fully entered into its spirit. Mrs. 
 Staunton corrected her, taught her how to 
 give each sentence its fullest effect, and
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 239 
 
 steadily controlled her impetuosity until 
 the final scene. Then she took the curb 
 off her high-spirited pupil ; the rapid pas- 
 sion of Esther's earnest nature had full 
 swing, and had he been present, Mr. 
 Gerald might well have congratulated 
 himself on his Countess. 
 
 The hours passed so quickly that night 
 came upon them before they thought twi- 
 light near. Esther looked at her watch. 
 Nearly five o'clock, and she had promised 
 to be again in Paradise Court at half-past 
 three. 
 
 *' Oh ! I'd no idea it was so late. I 
 must go. May I come to-morrow early ? 
 Isn't she splendid ? That triumph at the 
 end is glorious ! How I shall enjoy daring 
 the senators to their worst ! — and I shall 
 stand firm and erect, like the Archangel
 
 240 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Michael, with my heel on the villain's 
 neck. What a wretch he was !" 
 
 " I can t quite approve of your heel on 
 his neck, ray dear," returned Mrs. Staunton, 
 again polishing her glasses. 
 
 " Of course not really on his neck. I 
 mean I shall feel as if I had him down, 
 down, trampling on him." And Esther 
 ground her pearly teeth, still mentally in 
 Venice. 
 
 ''Yes, that certainly is a good point. I 
 wonder who Mr. Gerald has got to do the 
 ' heavy ?' I hope it's not old Bangles."
 
 241 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 TN a quarter of an hour Esther was by 
 -^ Tony's mother's bedside. In the Court 
 that night there was much weeping and 
 gnashing of teeth. The long-dreaded 
 event had come at last, and the dilapi- 
 dated dwellings of those poverty-stricken 
 tenants were to give place to broader 
 thoroughfares and statelier buildings. 
 
 " An wherever we are to go to, God 
 alone knows !" wailed the poor invalid, 
 who had wept her voice fainter than 
 ever. *' We owe for three weeks now, 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 an' there's little left to get a shillin' on, 
 if we would. At this time o' year, too, 
 when firin's so dear, an' me so ill. Oh ! 
 whatever shall we do ? — whatever shall 
 we do ?" 
 
 " Annie," said Esther, taking Tony's 
 sister on one side, ^' how is this? Three 
 weeks owing, when I have given you 
 money every week for rent?" 
 
 " Oh, do forgive us, miss," sobbed the 
 girl. " But it all went in vittals, it did. 
 She kept a cravin' so after tea ; and then 
 the doctor said she must have meat once 
 every day, the whole week long. It's 
 Tony's fault. He told me to get it, an' 
 what he's done with his money I don't 
 know." 
 
 " That's a wopper, yer do know — yer 
 do," said Tony, who considered circum-
 
 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 243 
 
 Stances altogether so aggravating that he 
 lost his temper. " I tell yer what it is, 
 Miss Esther, — an' she knows it too, she 
 does — I got 'em in two sacks o' coke, an' 
 a pound an' a 'arf o' dips ; I got 'er a 
 pair o' boots an' a new bed. The straw's 
 elevenpence now ; an' I was forced to 
 get myself a pair o' trowsis, I was; so 
 she know's pretty well how my money's 
 gone ; an' I'll not stand it, Annie." 
 
 " Come, come, don't quarrel. Now let 
 me hear exactly what your landlord 
 said." 
 
 "Oh, he came 'ere looking as jolly as 
 jolly. He's got lots o' what they calls 
 ' compensashin,' that is, they pays 'im more 
 than the 'ouse is worth. It's us it puts 
 out so, but they never thinks to give us 
 nothink." 
 
 r2
 
 244 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 *'An' there's no lodgin' to be had with- 
 out payin' a fortune for rent," added the 
 mother, wiping her eyes with a corner of 
 the old counterpane. " Wherever are we 
 to put the furniture too ?" 
 
 Esther could scarcely help smiling, deep- 
 ly as her sympathies were roused, to hear 
 the poor woman speak of the few odds 
 and ends of rubbish that constituted her 
 household gods as " furniture," especially 
 after having previously remarked there 
 was nothing " to raise a shillin' on." 
 
 " An' mother, too, was gettin' quite 
 strong, with the tea an' meat," put in 
 Annie. " She got up, and walked up an' 
 down the room, quite like 'erself again." 
 
 *' She'd be as strong as an 'orse in no 
 time," said Tony, " if she hadn't to worry 
 so, an' be always botherin' about where
 
 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 245 
 
 things was to come from. She is a worrit- 
 tin' disposition though, that's some think 
 against 'er." 
 
 "An' there's no call for you to turn 
 disrespectful to your own mother, Tony ; 
 you hain't got a bit o' feelin', you know 
 you 'aven't." And Mrs. Staunton now cried 
 more than ever. 
 
 " Come, children," said Esther, authori- 
 tatively. **This is the time to comfort, 
 not to scold one another. And, Mrs. 
 Staunton, what is the use of exhausting 
 yourself with crying? Annie, what has 
 your mother eaten to'day?" 
 
 " She's had nothing but two cups o' tea 
 since breakfast, an' she scarcely tasted then." 
 
 " No wonder she feels low-spirited. I 
 am really angry, Mrs. Staunton, that you 
 persist in taking so mucli tea. It is the
 
 246 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 worst thing you can drink. Annie, be sure 
 and make your mother cocoa for breakfast, 
 and if, as you say, she sometimes fancies a 
 little porter, by all means let her have it. 
 Take this, Tony, and fetch a mutton chop 
 at once. No fire, did you say? No more 
 there is. Well, run to the cook-shop and 
 get something she likes, and you may as 
 well get a little over for yourself and your 
 sister. Do try, like a dear good woman as 
 you are, to drink a little stout to-night. 
 You will ? There, there, that's right, don't 
 cry ! Oh, pray don't cry. Now, let go my 
 hand. Yes, I will come to-morrow. Good- 
 bye, good-bye. Keep up your spirits. Bless 
 me, Annie ! You crying too ? You are an 
 extremely naughty girl. No ! no ! Don't 
 kiss my hand. I'm a mere girl like your- 
 self, only a little better off." " Perhaps" she
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 247 
 
 mentally added, as a doubt on that point 
 smote her heart. In spite of fatigue she paced 
 hurriedly home. She found it necessary to 
 walk quickly, and with her veil down. In 
 Ireland "her maiden smile lighted her safe- 
 ly" wherever she went. In the streets of 
 this more civilized metropolis, a smile at her 
 own innocent thoughts many an English gen- 
 ileman would have rewarded by an insult.
 
 248 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A T nineteen joy and sorrow quickly 
 -^-^ alternate. That same evening Esther 
 felt quite happy, for she quitted her dingy 
 room, flung aside her muddy gown, and 
 travelled by Imagination's express to Italy's 
 " Bride of the Sea," where, until midnight, 
 she dwelt among the great, revelled in 
 princely luxury, and triumphed over mis- 
 fortune and villainy, like — Alfred Gerald's 
 " Venetian Countess." 
 
 On Thursday the author kept his ap-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 249 
 
 pointtnent with Mrs. Staunton, After a few 
 general remarks, he seated himself, and 
 spoke so kindly, so paternally to Esther, 
 that she at once felt quite at ease. He seem- 
 ed delighted by her enthusiastic praise of his 
 drama. Then the reading commenced, and 
 Gerald declared that he himself had never 
 felt or understood half the force of his own 
 writing until that afternoon. This inspired 
 Esther with still greater earnestness. In 
 the last scene she quite surpassed herself 
 Previous to taking leave, however, he re- 
 marked that there were one or two slight 
 alterations in the reading he should like to 
 mention. They could be left, however, for 
 a future occasion, when the casting of the 
 piece, the date of its production, and 
 other details were arranged. As it was 
 already late in the season little could be
 
 250 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 done before Easter. It might, however, 
 be found as well to bring it out before the 
 Winter, for a night or two, by way of test. 
 This, and much more, Mr. Gerald hoped to 
 settle in a few days. " Then, perhaps, Mrs. 
 Staunton would allow him to bring Mr. 
 Beaumont, the eminent tragedian, who had 
 kindly promised to undertake the Count; 
 and perhaps Miss Co wen would kindly con- 
 sent to read her scenes once more, assisted 
 by that gentleman." 
 
 The second leading lady was still unpro- 
 vided, and Mrs. Staunton, though she knew 
 Miss Foster aspired to play the Countess, 
 would not neglect the opportunity of re- 
 commending her for a part she might 
 more reasonably hope to accomplish pass- 
 ably. Mr. Gerald considered that young 
 lady's ambition was better limited to sou-
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 251 
 
 brettes or ballet-dancing. Then Esther 
 good-naturedly ventured to put in a word 
 for her fellow-pupiL She was answered 
 by a kindly smile, and " No, no, I as- 
 sure you, Miss Cowen, I appreciate your 
 friend's powers correctly. It really would 
 not do." 
 
 When Gerald got into his hansom, he 
 twirled one end of his silky moustache 
 with more than usual complacency. He 
 felt he had hit on the right girl at last. 
 He really never thought his blank verse 
 would declaim so well, and considered 
 Esther remarkably clever to get it up so 
 thoroughly in a couple of days. He 
 found her genuine unafFectedness delight- 
 fully refreshing after the overpowering 
 fine airs of most lady-professionals. Where 
 could she have picked up such a capital
 
 252 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 manner ? Her love-scene, though, was ter- 
 ribly stagey. How could an old woman of 
 seventy teach love-making ? The worst of 
 it was. Miss Cowen imitated her to the 
 life, and it couldn't be "knocked out of 
 her " in her teacher's presence. That scene 
 was certainly not up to the mark. He 
 must get a private introduction to her, 
 and show her where Mrs. Staunton missed 
 it ; and show her, moreover, how absurd 
 it was for her to mix herself up with 
 such a wretched set of amateur spouters 
 as were at the Diamond Theatre, if she 
 ever intended aiming at anything great. 
 Indeed, for his own sake, he must con- 
 trive to put a stop to that affair. It 
 would never do for his Countess to have 
 made a debut under such ridiculous cir- 
 cumstances.
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 253 
 
 She lived in the Strand somewhere. 
 Evidently she was one of little Foster's 
 set. He would ask her to take him to 
 call on Miss Cowen. After his first visit 
 he had no doubt the entree would be 
 easy enough. He never happened to come 
 across a peculiarly innocent-looking damsel 
 in the theatrical world but in the sequel 
 she invariably- turned out faster than any 
 of her companions, and that was not say- 
 ing a trifle if Miss Foster was one of 
 them. 
 
 Gerald's friends said he was " one of 
 those fellows who always have the devil's 
 own luck." Certainly the idea of asking 
 Miss Foster's assistance had scarcely crossed 
 his mind, when her voyante costume and 
 golden chignon flashed before his eyes. 
 Her lesson always succeeded Esther's.
 
 254 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 She was now on her way to Shore 
 Street. " Nothing like seizing opportu- 
 nity," thought he, stopping his cab. In 
 another moment he had raised his hat, 
 and was gazing into the twinkling blue 
 eyes of his companion with just the kind 
 of admiration she loved to attract. His 
 request was difficult to bring about, for 
 Foster would be furious when she learnt 
 Miss Esther was to play the Countess. 
 But Gerald was one of those men who 
 always know the right thing to say. He 
 naturally alluded to their recent meeting 
 at the Diamond. 
 
 "Too bad," he remarked, "making you 
 Madame Deschappelles. You should do 
 Pauline." 
 
 "It don't signify ; I've got a good part 
 in the after-piece. As it's her first specu-
 
 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 255 
 
 lation, I don't mind obliging Miss Cowen." 
 
 " — h ! her speculation, is it ? Who 
 pays the piper?" 
 
 "That's just what we are all dying to 
 find out ; but it's well known you know 
 everything about everybody, Mr. Gerald, 
 so do tell us all about that girl. Haynes 
 pretends he's as ignorant as the rest of us, 
 but he's not the one to go paying a lady 
 all that attention for nothinsj. She must 
 be well off, at any rate. Now, do tell us 
 — where does she come from ?" 
 
 " If you don't know, my dear," an- 
 swered Gerald, smiling mischievously, " I 
 scarcely think I ought to enlighten you. 
 But let us talk about yourself" 
 
 "No, no, I want you to talk about 
 her," said Miss Foster, shaking her shoul- 
 ders with a child-like prettiness, intended
 
 256 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 to be irresistible. " Do tell me who she 
 
 is." 
 
 " Oh ! never mind her. About Madame 
 Deschappelles — why the deuce can't you 
 play Pauline, and let her do Madame? 
 She is older than you are, I'll swear !" 
 
 '^ Of course she wouldn't stand that, as 
 the thing's her own getting up. It does 
 seem ridiculous, though, to give a part 
 like Pauline to a mere novice. One could 
 hardly hear her speak in the first scene 
 last week. Indeed, I can't profess to per- 
 ceive Miss Esther's prodigious talent." 
 
 *' I must say I consider you infinitely 
 more suited to play Pauline at the ' Dia- 
 mond.' " 
 
 " So I am ; but, you see, it's impos- 
 sible." 
 
 *''I don't see any such thing. All things
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 257 
 
 ought to be possible for you," and Gerald 
 pressed the gloved hand resting coquet- 
 tishly on his arm. 
 
 "What nonsense you men do talk, Mr. 
 Gerald ! How could I get to play Pauline 
 instead of her ?" 
 
 " Simply by leaving it to me, and doing 
 what I ask you." 
 
 " Oh ! but you might ask something 
 shocking. I'm afraid of you." 
 
 "What, after so easily making me your 
 slave ! No, I promise to ask nothing, for 
 I know you will not be cruel enough to 
 leave me unrewarded. You shall play 
 Pauhne instead of Miss — I forget her 
 name." 
 
 " Miss Co wen." 
 
 "Yes, Cowen, I'm afraid, though, I've 
 lost her address." 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 ^'190, Cecil Street." 
 
 "Ah, yes, I remember. He must go 
 there and see her. Rather a ticklish 
 thing for you to undertake, my pet. Must 
 be managed diplomatically. You visit her, 
 of course ?" 
 
 " Well, no, not exactly. Of course I 
 can call on her. I have frequently thought 
 of doing so. But — but, you see, no 
 one seems to know anything about her, 
 and really one's afraid of calling on — on 
 some person perhaps not quite the 
 thing." 
 
 The truth was Esther had constantly 
 rejected Miss Foster's overtures, and had 
 been almost rude in discouraging her 
 attempts at intimacy. 
 
 " I don't think you need have any 
 scruples. We can first make a short
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 259 
 
 business visit. Til take you to-morrow. 
 Let me drive you there — will you ? 
 We'll try my new bays in the park after- 
 wards." 
 
 The lady was charmed with this arrange- 
 ment. It was not until after they had 
 parted a few doors from Mrs. Staunton's, 
 that Gerald remembered she might now 
 hear about his having selected Esther 
 for the " Countess," and would probably 
 be too much incensed by the intelligence 
 to keep her engagement with him. In 
 this, however, he had his usual luck, 
 for Mrs. Staunton, too prudent to be the 
 first announcer of ill-news, wisely abstained 
 from mentioning her more fortunate pupil's 
 prospects. 
 
 s2
 
 260 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "VTEXT day Esther was not a little 
 ■^^ astonished when the maid-of-all-work 
 brought her Miss Foster's and Mr. Gerald's 
 cards. She stood in her bed-room, bath- 
 infT her face after a fatio^uinor visit to 
 Tony's mother. But for her, the poor 
 woman must now have returned to the 
 workhouse. This, Annie and Tony de- 
 clared, would be the death of her and 
 break their hearts. The boy's contributions 
 to the family expenditure grew very scanty. 
 For three days he had not '' picked up a
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 261 
 
 single job." His spirits were down, and, 
 as he told Esther, " It was all U P 
 with 'im if ever he lost his pluck." 
 
 At this crisis, in common prudence, the 
 young lady should have dropped her ac- 
 quaintances, but it never occurred to her 
 to allow so much trouble to fall on three 
 people for want of a few pounds. She 
 told Tony to look out for another room 
 at once, more comfortable, and not in 
 quite such a dirty place. She was 
 glad to remove Mrs. Staunton. The con- 
 stant gatherings of the Court's miser- 
 able inhabitants, their perpetual squabbles 
 or wailings, the " dead set " their wretched 
 little ones had learnt to make on Esther's 
 purse, rendered the scene altogether too 
 terrible for one so sympathetic, and she 
 had just returned from it in anything but
 
 262 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 the mood for receiving Mr. Gerald's com- 
 panion. Miss Foster had made a visiting 
 toilette, he declared, calculated to " dazzle 
 and destroy " every lion in the drive. 
 
 Whilst awaiting Esther, she amused her- 
 self by criticising the apartment, pointing 
 out its dilapidations, and wondering " how 
 anyone comme il faui could exist in such a 
 place." Gerald leaned against the mantel- 
 piece, glancing at himself in the mirror. 
 He was approaching that age when a man 
 finds it necessary to keep assuring himself 
 he still looks and feels as young as ever. 
 Apparently he relished the young lady's 
 sallies ; at any rate he highly gratified her 
 by the common-place flatteries he retorted. 
 But these suddenly ceased when Esther, 
 in all her own sweet dignity, entered the 
 room. He felt at a glance he could not
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 263 
 
 talk rubbish in her presence, and he soon 
 became almost ashamed of having made 
 his visit in such company. 
 
 " I thought I'd come and see you at 
 last, my dear," began Miss Foster, *' and I 
 knew you'd be glad to see Mr. Gerald. 
 Law ! How surprised you look !" 
 
 " I confess I scarcely anticipated this 
 visit." Then, turning a shade more plea- 
 santly to Mr. Gerald, Esther continued : 
 " I suppose, really, it is with reference to 
 the drama you are kindly come ?" 
 
 " Yes ! It's the play we've come about. 
 Mr. Gerald will tell you what it is we 
 want ; and as you don't seem particularly 
 glad to see us, I may as well tell you it's 
 only on business we're here." 
 
 " Indeed ? I should very much like to 
 know what has procured me this pleasure."
 
 264 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 '' My dear Miss Foster," said Gerald, 
 interrupting that young lady's reply, " do 
 not plunge us into business in this abrupt 
 manner. I hope Miss Cowen and I may 
 have many opportunities of talking over 
 dramatic affairs. I thought I had quite 
 made you understand that the suggestion 
 I have some time or other to make to 
 Miss Cowen requires reflection. Indeed 
 we must know each other a little bet- 
 ter before I can venture to ask her a 
 favour." 
 
 " Pray ask me anything you like." 
 ^' May I ask you, then, to kindly permit 
 me to select the four or five boxes I should 
 be glad to engage for my friends on the 
 night of your performance ? I was not 
 aware until yesterday that you were al- 
 ready a lady-manager."
 
 A FIKST APPEAEANCE. 265 
 
 " That I certainly am not. Mr. Haynes 
 assured me my only chance of procurhig 
 an engagement was to allow him to take 
 the Diamond Theatre in my name ; but 
 about boxes, or any business appertaining 
 to it, I must refer you to him. He ar- 
 ranges all such matters." 
 
 " Oh, but there are some alterations Mr. 
 Gerald wants to talk to you yourself about. 
 Miss Cowen." 
 
 '* Yes, I remember there were some 
 alterations, of which Mr. Gerald spoke to 
 me at Mrs. Staunton's ; but those were 
 not in the ' Diamond ' performance, those 
 were 
 
 " Excuse me. Miss Cowen, those were 
 precisely what I have called to ask you 
 kindly to allow me to explain privately, 
 as I would on no account wound the old
 
 266 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 lady's feelings by differing with her as to 
 any of her little arrangements." 
 
 " Oh ! I know Mrs. Staunton won't mind 
 the change at all," persisted Miss Foster, 
 "for she's particularly partial to me, I as- 
 sure you." 
 
 '' Now pray, Miss Foster, leave the 
 management of this to Miss Cowen and 
 me. We know Mrs. Staunton and her 
 ways quite as well as you can do. Per- 
 haps Miss Cowen will allow me to come 
 some other time, and talk over theatrical 
 affairs. I leave town in a few days. 
 Might that plead my excuse for asking her 
 to see me as soon as possible ?" 
 
 " I can see you any afternoon from three 
 to five o'clock. I am always engaged after 
 that hour." 
 
 " I shall onlv trouble you for half-an-
 
 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 267 
 
 hour. But it reall}^ would be a great 
 convenience if you could see me to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 *' Certainly. I shall be disengaged at 
 the time I mention." 
 
 '' In that case, then, I must not intrude 
 any longer to-day." Gerald rose, but turn- 
 ing to Miss Foster, whom he had dexter- 
 ously prevented putting in a word edge- 
 wise, '' I must really not hurry you away 
 from your friend," he said. " Shall I leave 
 you, while I take a turn in the park, and 
 call presently to drive you home ? The 
 fact is, I am afraid my horses will catch 
 cold waiting." 
 
 " Dear me ! no, Mr. Gerald. Miss 
 Cowen and I can see each other any day. 
 Good-bye, my dear. We're going a drive 
 in the park. You know where Fiorina
 
 268 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Villa, St. John's Wood, is ? Now, mind, 
 I shall expect you to come and see me." 
 "Thank you — thank you. I fear the 
 fog is thickening. It may be clearer in 
 Hyde Park. Good afternoon — good after- 
 
 noon." 
 
 As her guests descended the incon- 
 veniently narrow staircase, Esther, by a 
 girlish impulse, turned to the window. 
 She felt rather mystified by Miss Foster's 
 remarks, and began to fancy that, by some 
 mistake or other, cross purposes had been 
 played. A more sophisticated young lady 
 might have hesitated to consent so un- 
 demurringly to the proposed visit of a 
 gentleman, almost a stranger ; but Esther 
 had known very few men in her young 
 life, and no thought about proprieties 
 ever crossed her mind. Indeed she felt
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 269 
 
 quite grateful to Mr. Gerald for not hav- 
 ing requested her to read through " The 
 Countess" in the presence of Miss Fos- 
 ter, who, she felt instinctively, would only 
 sneer at her attempts. 
 
 For a moment she stood at the window, 
 listening to the clanking and pawing of 
 Gerald's bays. They reminded her sadly 
 of her own little "Ben." ''Ben" would 
 belong to some one else by this time. 
 Never more would he and his old mis- 
 tress scamper along the emerald sward. 
 
 Miss Foster stepped into the mail-phae- 
 ton, and after several bewitching minau- 
 deries, was fluttering herself down in the 
 midst of her sea of furbelows by Gerald's 
 side, when she caui^ht svj^it of Esther's 
 purple gown at the window. 
 
 " Well, T do declare if there's not Miss
 
 270 A FIRST APPEAEANCE. 
 
 Cowen smiling at you, Mr. Gerald ! You've 
 made a conquest there without much diffi- 
 culty, you see. How shockingly that girl 
 dresses ! I've never yet seen her in any- 
 thing but that old merino." 
 
 Gerald looked up, but he could not 
 flatter himself he was the object of Esther's 
 attention. Her eyes remained wistfully 
 fastened on his horses, and she stood sin- 
 cerely unconscious of their driver's gaze. 
 This, he considered, was too much for 
 any fellow, and with the pretence of some- 
 thing being wrong about the bit of the 
 off animal, he got down, and muttering 
 something to his groom, went to the horse's 
 head. Then Esther could not fail to see 
 him, and then he looked up rather too 
 long, and lifted his hat to her. This 
 made her leave the window, colouring
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 271 
 
 violently, as she bit her lip with mortifi- 
 cation, asking herself how she could have 
 done such a rude thing as to stare at 
 them like that. 
 
 At half-past five o'clock Tony came 
 in. 
 
 " I hope you have come to go on with 
 your lessons to-night ?" Esther said. 
 
 " No, I ain't, Miss Esther ; I ain't got 
 no 'eart for learnin' anythink but 'ow to 
 make them comfortable again. I can't 
 find no room about nowhere's — not even 
 for three shilHn's a week. I jest been to 
 see one in that beastly Hand's Lane, an' 
 it ain't got no fireplace, nor no chimbly, 
 even. Mam 'ud be froze. She's always 
 cold, even in the Court." 
 
 " Never mind ; you must look about for 
 a few days longer, that's all. It won't do
 
 272 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 for you to lose heart, though. Think, 
 Tony, how much depends upon you !" 
 
 " We all seem pretty much dependin 
 on you now, Miss Esther. It's a shame, 
 too, I know. I daresay you've little 
 enough. But there, what's to be done ? 
 Even Gran' ain't no payin' pupils except 
 you jest now." 
 
 " Why, Miss Foster still has lessons, and 
 you say Fiorina Villa is so elegant that 
 surely she is rich." 
 
 " Yes, she is ; but she's a pig. She never 
 pays anybody. All 'er money goes in 
 dressin' 'erself up, an' cuttin about. Gran' 
 asked 'er for ever so little on account the 
 other day, an' she said she really couldn't 
 pay us a penny before Christmas, though 
 I'm blowed if, that very afternoon, she 
 didn't go to the shop where Annie's got
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 273 
 
 a job at strawplaitin', 'an give two guineas 
 for a pink bonnet. I jest met 'er, swellin' 
 about with it, in that 'ere chap's carriage. 
 If I was Gran' ketch me standin' it." 
 
 " Haven't you earned any money to-day, 
 Tony?" 
 
 " Yes. There it is," said Tony, savagely 
 clapping down on the table a threepenny 
 bit and four pennyworth of coppers. "That's 
 their dinner ; that's their supper ; that's 
 their firin' ; an' that's my wages ! That's 
 ray fat lot to put in the Post-Office Savin's 
 Bank ! An', look 'ere, the beetle wouldn't 
 call us a beggar now ! Oh no !" And 
 the boy seized the out-at-elbow sleeve of 
 his tattered jacket, giving it an extra rip in 
 sheer indignation. 
 
 " Do not be such a silly child. Come 
 here. Closer !" Esther took a needle and 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 cotton from a little work-basket, and made 
 him stand quietly by her side while she 
 repaired the rent. *'You say truly," she 
 continued, stitching away. *' I myself have 
 little enough money — so little that I must 
 ask you to do for me what I have not 
 courage enough to do for myself I must 
 ask you to — to pawn some of my jewels, 
 and to find out what all I have in the world 
 is worth." 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to say you got 
 none left ?" 
 
 " Not enough to go on with, I fear, until 
 after the performance." 
 
 " Law ! I thought you was quite well 
 off, I did. An' lendin' us such an 'eap too I 
 Everythink you've got is so fust-rate. Well, 
 I'm blest !" 
 
 Tony was astonished — so astonished that
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 275 
 
 he drew away his sleeve, and stood so long 
 stock still, staring in Esther's face, that, 
 in spite of ever^^thing, she could not help 
 laughing. 
 
 " Well," said Tony, rubbing his forehead, 
 and delivering himself of a long, deep sigh, 
 or rather puff, ^' where's the things yer 
 want us to pop ?" 
 
 Esther went into her room, and returned 
 with the jewel-case, the contents of which 
 she one by one displayed. Tony was more 
 amazed than ever. He kept exclaiming, 
 " Everythink is fust-rate, an' no mistake !" 
 At last he could not resist saying, ^' Oh ! 
 Miss Esther, I say, jest put that there on, 
 will yer? Let's see 'ow it looks on yer. 
 Do, now." 
 
 Esther clasped the emerald bracelet on 
 her slender wrist.
 
 276 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 *^An' now them rings. Do — there — on 
 that finger, an' on that." 
 
 Esther put them on. 
 
 "An this 'ere brooch. Ain't it splen- 
 did ? Wouldn't I like Annie to see that ! 
 She'd think precious little of young Lang's 
 after that there one. Don't you look 
 stunnin' ! I say, may I put on this 'ere 
 chain ? I never 'ad a real gold chain on 
 yet, as I knows of" 
 
 Esther allowed the child to bedizen 
 them both to his heart's content ; but re- 
 marked, 
 
 " I thought only girls cared for finery, 
 lony. 
 
 " You ain't seen so much o' fellers at 
 the theatre as me, then. Ask Mr. May, 
 or Mr. 'Arrison, or Mr. Nathan — Ithey 
 gives twice the trouble about their things
 
 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 277 
 
 as the ladies. 'Tain't only actors neither. 
 That ere chap with little Foster thinks 
 jest as much about titivatin' an' blackenin' 
 'is 'stachoes as she does about 'er shenong. 
 An' last time as I cleaned the windies at 
 Buckmaster's shop, I seed two old officers 
 — I daresay they was generals — come in 
 and swear like any think — the little fat un, 
 'cos the gold lace and tags wasn't 'ansome 
 enough, and the lanky un 'cos there 
 wasn't enough paddin' in his buzzum. I 
 thought I should 'ave busted with larfin', 
 they did put theirselves out so." 
 
 Esther laughed. Tony always made her 
 feel merry — perhaps that was why she 
 liked him. Betsy came in to ask if any- 
 thing more was wanted that night. Betsy 
 always came in when Tony was there. 
 She had quite '*took to that larky little
 
 278 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 cure." She gave him the " Jim Crow " 
 song-book ; he gave her a pocketful of 
 nuts ; and certainly his influence had tended 
 considerably to render her less inattentive 
 to Esther. When Betsy had left the room, 
 Esther said — 
 
 "It is quite late — you must go now. 
 Take the jewels with you — I know you 
 will take care of them ; and if you will 
 walk home with me after my lesson to- 
 morrow, you can tell me what they say 
 about them." 
 
 " All right," Tony answered. Then, sud- 
 denly thinking, he added, " But bless 
 me 1 I daresent take 'em without your 
 comin' along with us, Miss Esther." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why, they'd tliink I'd stolen 'em, an' 
 all they'd advance on the lot 'ud be
 
 A FIRST APPEAKANCE. 279 
 
 jest a bobby to collar us. Now do I look 
 the sort o' young gentleman to 'ave a 
 gold chain ?" 
 
 " If you are a good boy, I daresay you 
 will have one some day, Tony." 
 
 " Maybe," said the child, standing on the 
 edge of the fender, to catch another 
 glimpse of himself before he restored the 
 chain to its case. " Tell yer Avhat — - 
 you jest come along with us when we 
 leave Gran's. I'll do all the business for 
 you. 
 
 " Oh ! no — not in the morning. Let us 
 wait until it is dark, Tony." 
 
 "That'll be best— so it will. About 
 five o'clock, when I come from my les- 
 son. 
 
 " Yes, please, dear. Now you must 
 go. Good night. Don't stop talking to
 
 280 A FIRST APPEARANCE. 
 
 Betsy on the steps. I heard her mistress 
 scold her for being at the door so long 
 yesterday. Good night." 
 
 END or THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE.
 
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