Bildungsromans; Feminist fiction; Women -- Employment -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
With gloomy eyes fixed on her altered face she stood a moment
struggling with herself. Then the hard look returned, and she spoke out
defiantly, as if in answer to some warning voice within herself. “No
one cares what I am, so why care myself? Why not go on and get as much
fame as I can? Success gives me power if it cannot give me happiness,
and I must have some reward for my hard work. Yes! a gay life and a
short one, then out with the lights and down with the curtain!”
But in spite of her reckless words Christie sobbed herself to sleep
that night like a child who knows it is astray, yet cannot see the
right path or hear its mother’s voice calling it home.
On the night of the benefit, Lucy was in a most exasperating mood,
Christie in a very indignant one, and as they entered their
dressing-room they looked as if they might have played the Rival Queens
with great effect. Lucy offered no help and Christie asked none, but
putting her vexation resolutely out of sight fixed her mind on the task
before her.
As the pleasant stir began all about her, actress-like, she felt her
spirits rise, her courage increase with every curl she fastened up,
every gay garment she put on, and soon smiled approvingly at herself,
for excitement lent her cheeks a better color than rouge, her eyes
shone with satisfaction, and her heart beat high with the resolve to
make a hit or die.
Christie needed encouragement that night, and found it in the hearty
welcome that greeted her, and the full house, which proved how kind a
regard was entertained for her by many who knew her only by a
fictitious name. She felt this deeply, and it helped her much, for she
was vexed with many trials those before the footlights knew nothing of.
The other players were full of kindly interest in her success, but Lucy
took a naughty satisfaction in harassing her by all the small slights
and unanswerable provocations which one actress has it in her power to
inflict upon another.
Christie was fretted almost beyond endurance, and retaliated by an
ominous frown when her position allowed, threatening asides when a
moment’s by-play favored their delivery, and angry protests whenever
she met Lucy off the stage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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