Madge and Mrs Crawshay looking on, were well pleased to see that for once Uncle Dick did not regret coming to Ringsford. But although Madge found time to think of this, and to give intelligent attention to any one who addressed her, she glanced often at the door expectantly. At length the door opened, the butler entered, spoke a few words to his master, and then withdrew. Mr Hadleigh immediately advanced to Madge. ‘I am glad to tell you, Philip has returned,’ he said in a quiet voice. A flush of pleasure on her calm face expressed her gratitude for this good news. ‘Then he was only detained—nothing has happened?’ ‘I presume that nothing particular has happened; but we shall learn presently from himself. His message to me was only to desire that we should proceed to dinner at once, and allow him to join us in the dining-room. So you must permit Coutts to take you down.’ CALLS BEFORE THE CURTAIN. It has often been said that an actor exists upon the breath of applause; and to a certain extent this is literally as well as figuratively true; for during a long period of his early career he is fated to undergo many hardships, and frequently finds himself playing week after week for one of those unscrupulous ‘managers’ who can hardly be got to pay their company their salaries, while revelling in all possible comfort themselves. Indeed, a long chapter might be written upon the sorrows incident to ‘the profession;’ but this would be entirely beside our present purpose. Suffice it to remark, as an introduction to our immediate theme, that no histrion ever yet trod the boards who was unmindful of the public recognition of his talents; and so soon as an opportunity offers in which to distinguish himself, and his efforts are rewarded with a round of applause, from that moment will he devote himself the more assiduously to his calling, by reason of the enviable stimulus so received. It has been placed upon record how Fanny Horton, a once celebrated actress, won her first applause in a somewhat singular manner. During her performance in a particular scene, she was loudly hissed, when, advancing to the footlights, she asked: ‘Which do you dislike—my playing or my person?’ ‘The playing, the playing!’ was the answer from all parts of the house. ‘Well,’ she returned, ‘that consoles me; for my playing may be bettered, but my person I cannot alter!’ The audience were so struck with the ingenuity of this retort, that they immediately applauded as loudly as they had the moment before condemned her; and from that night she improved in her acting, and soon became a favourite with the public.