! and then, by merest accident, my mind wandered away to the
past, and I said to myself, it should not be so hard. Every woman has
been innocent. I was innocent enough when my first sweetheart paused at
my side to say to me the foolish old words that never lose sweetness and
novelty. I recalled with what open pleasure I had listened, with what
honest satisfaction I accepted his attention. With a laugh I exclaimed:
"I didn't even have sense enough to hide my gratification and pride, or
to _pretend the least bit_." I stopped suddenly--light seemed to come
into my mind. Innocence is alike the world over, I thought; it only
differs in degree. I sprang to my feet! I cried joyously: "I have caught
the cue, I do believe--_I won't act at all!_ I'll just speak the lines
sincerely and simply and leave the effect to Providence."

The scales loosened a trifle over Mr. Daly's eyes at the last rehearsal
but one. He was down in the orchestra speaking to the leader when I came
to the end of the act, and the words: "The mother whom I have insulted?
That young girl, then, is my sister--the sister whose happiness I have
stolen? whose future I have shattered? What--is--there--left--for--me to
live for?"

Mr. Daly glanced up, and said, sharply: "What's that? 'er, Miss Morris,
what are you going to do there as the curtain falls? I--I haven't noticed
that speech before. Go back a bit, Mr. Fisher, Miss Morant, back to the
Count's entrance; let me hear that again."

We went over the scene again: "H-e-m-m!" said Mr. Daly; "you've not
answered my question, Miss Morris. What do you do at the fall of the
curtain?"

"Nothing, sir," I answered, "just stare dazedly at space, I
think--swaying a little perhaps."

"I want you to fall!" he declared.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, "please, don't you think that would be rather
melodramatic? If she could stand while receiving that awful shock about
her mother's shame she would hardly fall afterward, from mere horror of
her own thoughts?"

"I know all that, but let me tell you there's always great effect in a
falling body. At any rate you can sink into a chair--and so get the
suggestion of collapse."

"There is no chair," I answered, cheerfully.

"Well," he replied, testily, "there can be one, I suppose. Here, boy,
bring a large chair and place it behind Miss Morris."

"Mr. Daly," I argued, "if I fall heavily, as I must, for effect, the
chair will jump, and that will be funny--see."

I fell--it did start b