The tragedy had been in rehearsal for a fortnight, and it promised well, if the representative of the jealous woman could only be brought to “put a little life into the death scene”--the exhortation which the Irish actress of the part of Francesca offered to her daily, but ineffectually. Miss Hoppner neither looked the part of a tragically jealous woman, nor did the stabbing of her rival in anything like that whirlwind of passion with which Garrick, in spite of the limping of the blank verse of the poet, almost swept the rest of the company off the stage when endeavoring to explain to the actress what her representation lacked, on the day after his chat with Mrs. Woffington on the same subject. Poor Miss Hoppner took a long breath, and passed her hand across her eyes as if to get rid of the effects of that horrible expression of deadly hate which Garrick's face had worn, as he had craned his head forward close to hers to show her how she should stab her rival--the slow movement of his body suggesting the stealth of the leopard approaching its victim, and his delivery of the lines through his teeth more than suggesting the hissing of a deadly snake in the act of springing. “Ay, do it that way, my dear madam,” said Mrs. Woffington, “and the day after the tragedy is played, you will be as famous as Mr. Garrick. 'T is the simplest thing in the world.” [Illustration: 0130] “You have so unnerved me, sir, that I vow I have no head for my lines,” said Miss Hoppner. But when, by the aid of the prompter, the lines were recovered and she had repeated the scene, the result showed very little improvement. Garrick grumbled, and Miss Hoppner was tearful, as they went to the wardrobe room to see the dresses which had just been made for the principal ladies. Miss Hoppner's tears quickly dried when she was brought face to face with the gorgeous fabric which she was to wear. It was a pink satin brocaded with white hawthorne, the stomacher trimmed with pearls. She saw that it was infinitely superior to the crimson stuff which had been assigned to Mrs. Woffington. She spoke rapturously of the brocade, and hurried with it in front of a mirror to see how it suited her style of beauty. Mrs. Woffington watched her with a smile. A sudden thought seemed to strike her, and she gave a little laugh. After a moment's hesitation she went behind the other actress and said: “I'm glad to see that you admire my dress, Miss Hoppner.” “Your dress?” said Miss Hoppner. “Oh, yes, that crimson stuff--'t is very becoming to you, I'm sure, Mrs. Woffington; though, for that matter, you look well in everything.” “'T is you who are to wear the crimson, my dear,” said Peggy. “I have made up my mind that the one you hold in your hand is the most suitable for me in the tragedy.” “Nay, madam, Mr. Garrick assigned this one to me, and I think 't will suit me very well.”