turn like a lady."

It was at that moment that Edna felt her journalistic ambition departing
from her, and was aware of an overmastering desire to be somewhere else.
But the stage manager, like an ogre, barred her retreat. She could hear
the opening bars of her song going up from the orchestra and the noises
of the house dying away to the silence of anticipation.

"Go ahead," Letty whispered, pressing her hand; and from the other side
came the peremptory "Don't flunk!" of Charley Welsh.

But her feet seemed rooted to the floor, and she leaned weakly against
a shift scene. The orchestra was beginning over again, and a lone voice
from the house piped with startling distinctness:

"Puzzle picture! Find Nannie!"

A roar of laughter greeted the sally, and Edna shrank back. But the
strong hand of the manager descended on her shoulder, and with a quick,
powerful shove propelled her out on to the stage. His hand and arm
had flashed into full view, and the audience, grasping the situation,
thundered its appreciation. The orchestra was drowned out by the
terrible din, and Edna could see the bows scraping away across the
violins, apparently without sound. It was impossible for her to begin
in time, and as she patiently waited, arms akimbo and ears straining for
the music, the house let loose again (a favorite trick, she afterward
learned, of confusing the amateur by preventing him or her from hearing
the orchestra).

But Edna was recovering her presence of mind. She became aware, pit to
dome, of a vast sea of smiling and fun-distorted faces, of vast roars of
laughter, rising wave on wave, and then her Scotch blood went cold and
angry. The hard-working but silent orchestra gave her the cue, and,
without making a sound, she began to move her lips, stretch forth her
arms, and sway her body, as though she were really singing. The noise in
the house redoubled in the attempt to drown her voice, but she serenely
went on with her pantomime. This seemed to continue an interminable
time, when the audience, tiring of its prank and in order to hear,
suddenly stilled its clamor, and discovered the dumb show she had been
making. For a moment all was silent, save for the orchestra, her lips
moving on without a sound, and then the audience realized that it had
been sold, and broke out afresh, this time with genuine applause in
acknowledgment of her victory. She chose this as the happy moment for
her exit, and with a bow and a backward retre