"Cue," said the prompter, close to her side, but she did not hear. Already she was moving forward with a steady grace, born of inspiration. She dawned upon the audience, handsome and proud, shifting, with the necessity of the situation, to a cold, white, helpless object, as the social pack moved away from her scornfully. Hurstwood blinked his eyes and caught the infection. The radiating waves of feeling and sincerity were already breaking against the farthest walls of the chamber. The magic of passion, which will yet dissolve the world, was here at work. There was a drawing, too, of attention, a riveting of feeling, heretofore wandering. "Ray! Ray! Why do you not come back to her?" was the cry of Pearl. Every eye was fixed on Carrie, still proud and scornful. They moved as she moved. Their eyes were with her eyes. Mrs. Morgan, as Pearl, approached her. "Let us go home," she said. "No," answered Carrie, her voice assuming for the first time a penetrating quality which it had never known. "Stay with him!" She pointed an almost accusing hand toward her lover. Then, with a pathos which struck home because of its utter simplicity, "He shall not suffer long." Hurstwood realised that he was seeing something extraordinarily good. It was heightened for him by the applause of the audience as the curtain descended and the fact that it was Carrie. He thought now that she was beautiful. She had done something which was above his sphere. He felt a keen delight in realising that she was his. "Fine," he said, and then, seized by a sudden impulse, arose and went about to the stage door. When he came in upon Carrie she was still with Drouet. His feelings for her were most exuberant. He was almost swept away by the strength and feeling she exhibited. His desire was to pour forth his praise with the unbounded feelings of a lover, but here was Drouet, whose affection was also rapidly reviving. The latter was more fascinated, if anything, than Hurstwood. At least, in the nature of things, it took a more ruddy form. "Well, well," said Drouet, "you did out of sight. That was simply great. I knew you could do it. Oh, but you're a little daisy!" Carrie's eyes flamed with the light of achievement. "Did I do all right?" "Did you? Well, I guess. Didn't you hear the applause?" There was some faint sound of clapping yet. "I thought I got it something like--I felt it." Just then Hurstwood came in. Instinctively he felt the change in Drouet. He saw that the drummer was near to Carrie, and jealousy leaped alight in his bosom. In a flash of thought, he reproached himself for having sent him back. Also, he hated him as an intruder. He could scarcely pull himself down to the level where he would have to congratulate Carrie as a friend. Nevertheless, the man mastered himself, and it was a triumph. He almost jerked the old subtle light to his eyes.