Drouet breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid that he was about to precipitate another conversation upon the marriage question. The part of Laura, as Carrie found out when she began to examine it, was one of suffering and tears. As delineated by Mr. Daly, it was true to the most sacred traditions of melodrama as he found it when he began his career. The sorrowful demeanour, the tremolo music, the long, explanatory, cumulative addresses, all were there. "Poor fellow," read Carrie, consulting the text and drawing her voice out pathetically. "Martin, be sure and give him a glass of wine before he goes." She was surprised at the briefness of the entire part, not knowing that she must be on the stage while others were talking, and not only be there, but also keep herself in harmony with the dramatic movement of the scenes. "I think I can do that, though," she concluded. When Drouet came the next night, she was very much satisfied with her day's study. "Well, how goes it, Caddie?" he said. "All right," she laughed. "I think I have it memorised nearly." "That's good," he said. "Let's hear some of it." "Oh, I don't know whether I can get up and say it off here," she said bashfully. "Well, I don't know why you shouldn't. It'll be easier here than it will there." "I don't know about that," she answered. Eventually she took off the ball-room episode with considerable feeling, forgetting, as she got deeper in the scene, all about Drouet, and letting herself rise to a fine state of feeling. "Good," said Drouet; "fine; out o' sight! You're all right, Caddie, I tell you." He was really moved by her excellent representation and the general appearance of the pathetic little figure as it swayed and finally fainted to the floor. He had bounded up to catch her, and now held her laughing in his arms. "Ain't you afraid you'll hurt yourself?" he asked. "Not a bit." "Well, you're a wonder. Say, I never knew you could do anything like that." "I never did, either," said Carrie merrily, her face flushed with delight. "Well, you can bet that you're all right," said Drouet. "You can take my word for that. You won't fail." CHAPTER XVII A GLIMPSE THROUGH THE GATEWAY: HOPE LIGHTENS THE EYE The, to Carrie, very important theatrical performance was to take place at the Avery on conditions which were to make it more noteworthy than was at first anticipated. The little dramatic student had written to Hurstwood the very morning her part was brought her that she was going to take part in a play. "I really am," she wrote, feeling that he might take it as a jest; "I have my part now, honest, truly." Hurstwood smiled in an indulgent way as he read this. "I wonder what it is going to be? I must see that." He answered at once, making a pleasant reference to her ability. "I haven't the slightest doubt you will make a success. You must come to the park to-morrow morning and tell me all about it."