However, there could be no question of such exaggeration in the case of a Shakespearean heroine. Of all the poet's creations is not Beatrice the most fantastic? And was not Esther, of all who had essayed the _rôle_, the most original in her style of beauty, the most unique in her method of playing it? That is why Mowbray, clearing all traditions at a single bound, had given free rein to his fancy. He had lowered the conventional scaffolding, cut short the tower-shaped _coiffure_. The top of the head was relieved, while two undulant, billowy masses depended therefrom, flowing behind the ears, no powder being used, which brought out at once the delicate contour and exquisite coloring of the face in strong relief. There was nothing classical nor rococo about it; it was all odd, novel, and overwhelmingly graceful. Esther had but to cast one glance at the mirror to be convinced that she had never been more beautiful. Mowbray leaned towards the maid and whispered a word in her ear. "What is it?" inquired Esther. "Nothing," replied Mowbray; "Miss Peg is going in search of some pins which I require." "Peg, I forbid you to leave the room!" But the command came too late. Whether Peg had not heard or had seen fit not to hear, she had quitted the room. Scarcely had the door closed ere Mowbray stooped and murmured her name. She had risen and recoiled across the room. "Oh, my lord, this is wrong!" she cried. "Mowbray's wish makes wrong right," he replied. "What do you fear,--the man who loves you to distraction?" Resolutely she fixed her eyes on his, striving to read therein, beyond the disarray of his senses, the true thought which animated him. [Illustration] "You love me? You have already said the same thing to twenty others,--to Bella Vereker, for instance!" He shrugged his shoulders impatiently. "I have never owned a second love! Neither she, nor any one else. You are my first love, and you shall be the only one!" "I do not believe you. You are not telling me truth." "Certainly I am," he exclaimed. "You shall be Lady Mowbray in the sight of God and man, with the reversion of the office which my mother holds at court." This was no illusion! Esther began to weaken, vanity being in reality her vulnerable point. At this moment a heavy knocking sounded upon the door, so resonant, so brutal that they both trembled. "They are about to begin!" cried a voice in the passage. Perhaps it may seem singular to those who have not experienced similar situations, that such an incident can save a young girl; that the sentiment of secondary but immediate duty can brusquely awaken her at the moment that the notion of primal duty is losing its hold upon her. Esther recovered her presence of mind upon the instant. "I am on in the first scene!" she cried. "Quick, my costume!" She threw open the door. The callboy had disappeared, but one of the company who was to play the part of Hero, already dressed, was just descending to the greenroom.