e the pale
maid drew her hair back and fastened it far above her forehead with a
big curved comb, as a preliminary to getting rid of paint and powder.
At this stage of the operation the Primadonna was neither Cordova nor
Margaret Donne; there was something terrifying about the exaggeratedly
painted mask when the wig was gone and her natural hair was drawn
tightly back. She thought she was like a monstrous skinned rabbit with
staring brown eyes.

At first, with the inexperience of youth, she used to plunge her
painted face into soapsuds and scrub vigorously till her own
complexion appeared, a good deal overheated and temporarily shiny;
but before long she had yielded to Alphonsine's entreaties and
representations and had adopted the butter method, long familiar to
chimney-sweeps.

The butter lay ready; not in a lordly dish, but in a clean tin can
with a cover, of the kind workmen use for fetching beer, and commonly
called a 'growler' in New York, for some reason which escapes
etymologists.

Having got rid of the upper strata of white lace and fine linen,
artfully done up so as to tremble like aspen leaves with Lucia's mad
trills, Margaret proceeded to butter her face thoroughly. It occurred
to her just then that all the other artists who had appeared with her
were presumably buttering their faces at the same moment, and that if
the public could look in upon them it would be very much surprised
indeed. At the thought she forgot what she had been thinking of and
smiled.

The maid, who was holding her hair back where it escaped the comb,
smiled too, and evidently considered that the relaxation of Margaret's
buttered features was equivalent to a permission to speak.

'It was a great triumph for Madame,' she observed. 'All the papers
will praise Madame to-morrow. Madame saved many lives.'

'Was Mr. Griggs in the house?' Margaret asked. 'I did not see him.'

Alphonsine did not answer at once, and when she spoke her tone had
changed.

'Yes, Madame. Mr. Griggs was in the house.'

Margaret wondered whether she had saved his life too, in his own
estimation or in that of her maid, and while she pondered the question
she buttered her nose industriously.

Alphonsine took a commercial view of the case.

'If Madame would appear three times more in New York, before sailing,
the manager would give ten thousand francs a night,' she observed.

Margaret said nothing to this, but she thought it would be amusing to
show herse