_Wildf._ (_to himself, as he goes to the wing_). Nice boy that; didn't think he'd care so much; must keep an eye on him. _Flattery_ must be over now. I wish I could have stayed to see it out; it was going magnificently; but there were some rather risky scenes ahead. Still, I believe it's a success; and, if it is, I shall have done with all this for ever after to-night. I can go to ALTHEA and tell her, without---- By Jove! wasn't it to-night that Old TOOVEY was to be in front? I wonder what he'll think of it. (_He looks at himself in the mirror._) He'll have some difficulty in recognising me in this get up. Well, I shall know on Monday. (_He goes on, and sings; then rushes back to the wing to change his costume, with the assistance of his dresser._) Yes, the coat, now, dresser, please. (_To himself, as he paints some lines on his face._) I couldn't see anyone at all like old TOOVEY. Very odd! They must have sent him the box, I suppose. Well, it doesn't matter; if he didn't think it necessary to come, so much the better. (_Aloud._) Wigpaste, please. Now the boards. All right--I'm ready. (_To the Boy._) Now, youngster, look out for your cue. [_He goes on._ _The Limelight Man_ (_up in the flies--to himself_). What's wrong with Mr. WILDFIRE? He as nearly broke down just now as----and I can't keep the limelight on him nohow to-night! He can't have been drinking--he ain't _that_ sort. But he do look bad--it's as much as ever he can do to go through with it; somethink's given him a turn. _Wildfire_ (_to himself, as he goes back to the wing, unsteadily_). She's here--and, what's worse, she's recognised me! She must have, or she would never have looked like that. If I could only have told her first; but, to discover it like this,--she'll think I meant to---- (_He pitches away his boards in a fury._) Well, I've done for myself--it's all over! (_To his dresser._) A note, eh? [_He opens it, and reads the contents mechanically_; Mr. TADMAN _and one or two other artistes come up with curiosity on seeing his expression_. _Tadm._ Why, WILDFIRE, old man, what's this? Play gone wrong? Never mind, dear boy, we can't have everything. But what's the report, eh? _Wildf._ (_impatiently_). Oh, I don't know. What does it matter now? (_He lets the note fall._) There, you can read it if you want to know. [_He walks away._ _Tadm._ (_with complacency_). Poor chap, he's hard hit! But I could have told him it wasn't to be expected that---- (_He picks up the note, and reads it with a falling jaw._) Hullo! What's the meaning of this? It says the piece is a tremendous go--safe for a long run--had to raise the rag again and again. Why, he'll make his fortune over this alone; and yet, look at him! (_Pointing to_ WILDFIRE, _who has seated himself on the pile of lumber, in utter dejection_.) And all those fools in front clapping and stamping for him to come on again. What _more_ does the feller want, I wonder! END OF SCENE XIII.