Helen was more deeply hurt and humiliated by her playwright's flight
than by the apparent failure of the play, but the two experiences coming
together fairly stunned her. To have the curtain go down on her final
scenes to feeble and hesitating applause was a new and painful
experience. Never since her first public reading had she failed to move
and interest her audience. What had happened? What had so swiftly
weakened her hold on her admirers? Up to that moment she had been sure
that she could make any character successful.
For a few moments she stood in the middle of the stage stifling with a
sense of mortification and defeat, then turned, and without a word or
look to any one went to her dressing-room.
Her maid was deeply sympathetic, and by sudden impulse stooped and
kissed her cheek, saying, "Never mind, Miss Merival, it was beautiful."
This unexpected caress brought the tears to the proud girl's eyes.
"Thank you, Nora. Some of the audience will agree with you, I hope."
"I'm sure of it, miss. Don't be downcast."