He wrote on a piece of paper that
they were to be given to her at once, and that he was to be called at ten.
There was a rehearsal at twelve.
On the night of the first performance, Hubert asked Rose to dine in his
rooms. Mr. Wilson proposed that they should have a roast chicken, and Annie
was sent to fetch a bottle of champagne from the grocer's. Annie had been
given a ticket for the pit. Mrs. Wilson was going to the upper boxes. Annie
said,--
'Why, you look as if you was going to a funeral, and not to a play. Why
don't ye laugh?'
In truth, Hubert and Rose were a little silent. Rose was thinking how she
could say certain lines. She had said them right once at rehearsal, but had
not since been able to reproduce to her satisfaction a certain effect of
voice. Hubert was too nervous to talk. There was nothing in his mind but
'Will the piece succeed? What shall I do if it fails?' He could give heed
to nothing but himself, all the world seemed blotted out, and he suffered
the pain of excessive self-concentration. Rose, on the other hand, had lost
sight of herself, and existed almost unconsciously in the soul of another
being. She was sometimes like a hypnotised spectator watching with foolish,
involuntary curiosity the actions of one whom she had been bidden to watch.
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