Severne made acquaintance with the manager, and obtained the _entre'e_behind the scenes. He brought his wife a bouquet every night, and presented it to her with such reverence and grace, that she was obliged to take it and courtesy, or seem rude to the people about.
Then she wrote to Miss Gale and begged her to come if she could.
Miss Gale, who had all this time been writing her love-letters twice a week, immediately appointed her mother viceroy, and went to her friend.
Ina Klosking explained the situation to her with a certain slight timidity and confusion not usual to her; and said, "Now, dear, you have more courage than the rest of us; and I know he has a great respect for you; and, indeed, Miss Dover told me he would quite obey you. Would it not be the act of a friend to advise him to cease this unhappy-- What good can come of it? He neglects his own duties, and disturbs me in mine.
I sometimes ask myself would it not be kinder of me to give up my business, or practice it elsewhere--Germany, or even Italy.
"Does he call on you?"
"No."
"Does he write to you?"
"Oh no. I wish he would. Because then I should be able to reply like a true friend, and send him away. Consider, dear, it is not like a nobody dangling after a public singer; that is common enough. We are all run after by idle men; even Signorina Zubetta, who has not much voice, nor appearance, and speaks a Genoese patois when she is not delivering a libretto. But for a gentleman of position, with a heart of gold and the soul of an emperor, that he should waste his time and his feelings so, on a woman who can never be anything to him, it is pitiable.""Well, but, after all, it is his business; and he is not a child:
besides, remember he is really very fond of music. If I were you I'd look another way, and take no notice.""But I cannot."
"Ah! And why not, pray?"
"Because he always takes a box on my left hand, two from the stage. Ican't think how he gets it at all the theaters. And then he fixes his eyes on me so, I cannot help stealing a look. He never applauds, nor throws me bouquets. He looks: oh, you cannot conceive how he looks, and the strange effect it is beginning to produce on me.""He mesmerizes you?"
"I know not. But it is a growing fascination. Oh, my dear physician, interfere. If it goes on, we shall be more wretched than ever." Then she enveloped Rhoda in her arms, and rested a hot cheek against hers.
"I see," said Rhoda. "You are afraid he will make you love him.""I hope not. But artists are impressionable; and being looked at so, by one I esteem, night after night, when my nerves are strung--_cela m'agace;"_ and she gave a shiver, and then was a little hysterical; and that was very unlike her.
Rhoda kissed her, and said resolutely she would stop it.
"Not unkindly?"
"Oh no."
"You will not tell him it is offensive to me?""No."
"Pray do not give him unnecessary pain."
"No."
"He is not to be mortified."
"No."
"I shall miss him sadly."
"Shall you?"
"Naturally. Especially at each new place. Only conceive: one is always anxious on the stage; and it is one thing to come before a public all strangers, and nearly all poor judges; it is another to see, all ready for your first note, a noble face bright with intelligence and admiration--the face of a friend. Often that one face is the only one Iallow myself to see. It hides the whole public.""Then don't you be silly and send it away. I'll tell you the one fault of your character: you think too much of other people, and too little of yourself. Now, that is contrary to the scheme of nature. We are sent into the world to take care of number one.""What!" said Ina; "are we to be all self-indulgence? Is there to be no principle, no womanly prudence, foresight, discretion? No; I feel the sacrifice: but no power shall hinder me from ****** it. If you cannot persuade him, I'll do like other singers. I will be ill, and quit the company.""Don't do that," said Rhoda. "Now you have put on your iron look, it is no use arguing--I know that to my cost. There--I will talk to him. Only don't hurry me; let me take my opportunity."This being understood, Ina would not part with her for the present, but took her to the theater. She dismissed her dresser, at Rhoda's request, and Rhoda filled that office. So they could talk freely.
Rhoda had never been behind the scenes of a theater before, and she went prying about, ignoring the music, for she was almost earless. Presently, whom should she encounter but Edward Severne. She started and looked at him like a basilisk. He removed his hat and drew back a step with a great air of respect and humility. She was shocked and indignant with Ina for letting him be about her. She followed her off the stage into her dressing room, and took her to task. "I have seen Mr. Severne here.""He comes every night."
"And you allow him?"
"It is the manager."
"But he would not admit him, if you objected.""I am afraid to do that."
"Why?"
"We should have an _esclandre._ I find he has had so much consideration for me as to tell no one our relation; and as he has never spoken to me, I do the most prudent thing I can, and take no notice. Should he attempt to intrude himself on me, then it will be time to have him stopped in the hall, and I shall do it _cou'te que cou'te._ Ah, my dear friend, mine is a difficult and trying position."After a very long wait, Ina went down and sung her principal song, with the usual bravas and thunders of applause. She was called on twice, and as she retired, Severne stepped forward, and, with a low, obsequious bow, handed her a beautiful bouquet. She took it with a stately courtesy, but never looked nor smiled.
Rhoda saw that and wondered. She thought to herself, "That is carrying politeness a long way. To be sure, she is half a foreigner."Having done his nightly homage, Severne left the theater, and soon afterward the performance concluded, and Ina took her friend home.