She had missed her turn at the third Hall, but she did not care. She went
on and gave a spiritless performance. It fell dead, but she cared less.
Her head throbbed with a dozen possibilities. She was still undiscovered.
As she sat resting on her couch ere resuming her work-a-day gown, her
nerves stretched to snapping point, and old Irish songs crooning
themselves irrelevantly in her brain, a telegram was handed her.
"He has found out," she thought, going hot and cold. She tore open the
pink envelope... and burst into a shriek of laughter. The dresser rushed
in, wondering. Nelly O'Neill merely held her sides, jollity embodied.
"Oh, the Show, the Show!" she gasped, the tears streaking her painted
cheeks.
The telegram that hung between her fingers in two sheets ran: "Reply
prepaid. I don't know the ways of the stage so I send you this as a sure
way of reaching you to ask when and where I may have the pleasure of
calling upon your friend, Miss O'Keeffe, and renewing the study of
Plato.--Robert Maper, Hotel Belgravia."
"Any answer, miss?" said the imperturbable doorkeeper.
The answer flashed irresistibly into her mind as he spoke. Oh, she would
play up to Bob Maper. Doubtless he imagined her fallen to the level of
her _metier_, though he wasn't insulting. She scribbled hastily: "Robert
Maper, Hotel Belgravia. I am waiting at the Hall for you. Come and take
me to supper.--EILEEN O'NEILL." She gave instructions he was to be
admitted. Then she relapsed into her hysteric amusement. "Oh, the merry
master of marionettes, the night my love comes from beyond the seas, you
send me to supper with Robert Maper." She waited with impatience. Now
that the long-dreaded discovery had come, she was consumed with curiosity
as to its effect upon the discoverer. At last she remembered to wash off
the rouge and the messes necessary for stage-perspective. Her winsome
face came back to her in the mirror, angelic by contrast, and while she
was looking wonderingly at this mystic flashing mask of hers, there was a
knock, and in another instant she was looking into the eyes burning
unchanged under the white marble mantel-piece.
"Ah, there you are!" she said gaily, and shook his hand as though they
had met the evening before. "Where shall we go?"