A strange silence suddenly fell, for all were impressed by the dignity and force of Janina's words. She glared at Kaczkowska with glowing eyes and then turned on her heel and left the room. Cabinski had fled to the box office after hastily divesting himself of his costume. "Whew! she's a sound nut, that new one." "Kaczkowska will never forgive her that . . ." "What can she do? . . . Miss Orlowska has the backing of the management." Mimi, immediately after the play, went to the dressing-room of the chorus where she found Janina still agitated. "How good you are!" cried the actress effusively. "What I did was right . . . that's all," Janina replied. "Take a trip with us to Bielany, won't you?" begged Mimi. "When? . . . And who are going?" "We're going within the next few days. There will be Wawrzecki, I, a certain author, a very jolly chap, whose play we are to present, Majkowska, Topolski and you. You must come with us!" After lengthy persuasions and kisses, which Janina received indifferently, she finally agreed to accompany them. They waited for Wawrzecki and afterwards all went together to a pastry shop for tea, taking with them also Topolski, who there composed a circular addressed to the whole company requesting them to appear without fail at the morrow's rehearsal, punctually at ten o'clock. CHAPTER V For Cabinski all days on which there was a performance were important days, but only three days were extraordinary: Christmas Eve, Easter Day, and . . . the name day of his wife which fell on the 19th of July, sacred to St. Vincent de Paul. On those three days the director and his wife would hold a reception on a grand scale. Cabinski the miser would vanish, and in his place would appear Cabinski the munificent, dispensing hospitality after the ancient custom of the Polish nobility, while certain deeply hidden hereditary cells of lavishness opened up in his ego. The guests were received and feted generously and no expense was spared. And, if later, as a result of this, advances on salaries were smaller for a month or so, their deferment more frequent, and the director's complaints of a deficit more numerous, hardly anyone minded, for all enjoyed themselves to the utmost, particularly on the name day of the directress. Cabinska's Christian name was Vincentine, but none bothered their heads about why her husband called her "Pepa," for nobody was interested to that extent. In accordance with the announcement of Topolski, the company assembled punctually for the rehearsal. They were to play The Martyr by D'Ennery, in which the title role, one of the showiest and most lachrymose in her repertory, was invariably acted each year by the directress. She played it really well, putting into it her entire store of tears and vocal lamentations, and had the deep satisfaction of thrilling the public.