October 15, 1859.]
ONE NIGHT ON THE STAGE.
317
ONE NIGHT ON THE STAGE.
BY HELEN DOWNES.
[See page 321.]
CHAPTER III. TRIBULATION.
Mrs. Neville (that was Maude Percy’s real name) retired to rest very late that night; she was so tired, so exhausted, she could scarcely call forth courage to undress, yet when she was in bed she could not sleep. This wonderful success, this lucrative career opened to her when all else had failed, the immense efforts she had made to conquer her timidity, and the enthusiasm she had raised—all excited her so much, that, fatigued as she was, she never closed her eyes! Each hour she grew more restless, and more desirous to compose herself and gain strength for the next night.
But when evening returned, the house filled in vain; in vain the manager bustled, the composer wondered. At length he sent Crowe in a cab to the house he had visited the night before, to bring back the missing star instantly. Crowe returned in half an hour with red eyes, and his pale face paler even than usual. He had found the poor prima donna lying delirious with fever, now singing a few notes of recitative, now talking wildly about diamond bracelets to feed her children, whilst they sat apart in a little room, where the old servant had placed them, frightened and weeping. Messrs. Smith and Rossi were in despair; they sent able physicians to prescribe for her, they came often to see if she wanted anything. For six weeks her life was in danger; and when at last she recovered her bodily strength, her voice was grand as before, but her mind appeared shattered for ever. She sang exquisitely, but at random; she could learn nothing new, she could go through with nothing consecutively. Dreadful was the mortification of the manager and his friend; she would rehearse for them some beautiful passage which awakened all their hopes of claiming her once more for their theatre; she would promise to attend rehearsals and resume her labours; but when the hour came, she had forgotten their very existence, and was sitting quietly mending her children’s clothes, and singing melodiously over her work. O it was too tantalising to see such talent and make no use of it! Rossi began to feel personally aggrieved, and when the doctors talked of the great pressure on her brain,