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Alsager stared an instant and turned faintly red. This was evidently a view that failed to strike her; she didn't, however, treat it as a joke. "I'm not impressed with the resemblance. I don't see myself doing what she does." "It isn't so much what she DOES," the young man argued, drawing out his moustache. "But what she does is the whole point. She simply tells her love I should never do that."
He spent the few hours before his departure in kissing his mother and sisters, who knew enough about Mrs. Alsager to judge it lucky this respectable married lady was not there a relief, however, accompanied with speculative glances at London and the morrow.
And with a sharp click Mrs. Alsager dropped the lid on the fragrant receptacle. "Not yet not yet!" laughed her visitor. "You will be if she pulls you through." "You declare that she WON'T pull me through." Mrs. Alsager was silent a moment, after which she softly murmured: "I'll pray for her." "You're the most generous of women!" Wayworth cried; then coloured as if the words had not been happy.
Alsager, to whom he promised details that would amuse her in later and still happier hours. Her eyes were full of tears when he read her the last words of the finished work, and she murmured, divinely "And now to get it done, to get it done!" "Yes, indeed to get it done!" Wayworth stared at the fire, slowly rolling up his type-copy.
He didn't wish to see the actress so directly, or even so simply as that; and it had been very fatiguing, the effort to focus Nona both through the performer and through the "Legitimate." Before he went to bed that night he posted three words to Mrs. Alsager "She's not a bit like it, but I dare say I can make her do."
Wayworth was approached at the same moment by a gentleman he knew as one of Mrs. Alsager's friends he had perceived him in that lady's box. Mrs. Alsager was waiting there for the successful author; she desired very earnestly that he would come round and speak to her.
The Governor was troubled at my illness, and sent to ask whether he should send me some senna tea. Wrote to-day to Mr. Alsager and Colonel Warrington. The letters were to have been dispatched direct to Tripoli, but the Touaricks would neither allow one of their own people nor an Arab courier to go, giving as the reason that Shafou, the Sultan, was not arrived.
Loder, as our young man was aware, meant the new "Renaissance," but though he reached home in the evening it was not to this convenient modern theatre that Wayworth first proceeded. He spent a late hour with Mrs. Alsager, an hour that throbbed with calculation. She told him that Mr.
Alsager; "they're discouraging, because they're vulgar. The other problem, the working out of the thing itself, is pure art." "How well you understand everything!" The young man had got up, nervously, and was leaning against the chimney-piece with his back to the fire and his arms folded. The roll of his copy, in his fist, was squeezed into the hollow of one of them. He looked down at Mrs.
Leigh Hunt's being sentenced for the libel, his first day's dinner was sent over by Mr. Alsager. He was a man of the most studiously correct demeanor, with a highly cultivated taste and judgment in the fine arts and music. He had long been accustomed to have the first trial at his own house of the best-reputed new foreign instrumental music, which he used to import from Germany.
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