Conway was a descendant of Lord Byron, and he had a look of the
_handsomest_ portraits of the poet. With his bright hair curling
tightly all over his well-shaped head, his beautiful figure, and
charming presence, he created a sensation in the eighties almost equal
to that made by the more famous beauty, Lily Langtry. As an actor he
belonged to the Terriss type, but he was not nearly as good as
Terriss.
Henry called a rehearsal the next day--on Sunday, I think. The company
stood about in groups on the stage, while Henry walked up and down,
speechless, but humming a tune occasionally, always a portentous sign
with him. The scene set was the Brocken scene, and Conway stood at
the top of the slope, as far away from Henry as he could get! He
looked abject. His handsome face was very red, his eyes full of tears.
He was terrified at the thought of what was going to happen. As for
Henry, he was white as death, but he never let pain to himself (or
others) stand in the path of duty to his public, and his public had
shown that they wanted another Faust. The actor was summoned to the
office, and presently Loveday came out and said that Mr. George
Alexander would play Faust the following night.
[Illustration: _Copyrighted by Window & Grove_