Ch. 3 - Actress

FEELING that she had all the world before her where to choose, and
that her next step ought to take her up at least one round higher on
the ladder she was climbing, Christie decided not to try going out
to service again. She knew very well that she would never live with
Irish mates, and could not expect to find another Hepsey. So she
tried to get a place as companion to an invalid, but failed to
secure the only situation of the sort that was offered her, because
she mildly objected to waiting on a nervous cripple all day, and
reading aloud half the night. The old lady called har an
"impertinent baggage," and Christie retired in great disgust,
resolving not to be a slave to anybody.

Things seldom turn out as we plan them, and after much waiting and
hoping for other work Christie at last accepted about the only
employment which had not entered her mind.

Among the boarders at Mrs. Flint's were an old lady and her pretty
daughter, both actresses at a respectable theatre. Not stars by any
means, but good second-rate players, doing their work creditably and
earning an honest living. The mother had been kind to Christie in
offering advice, and sympathizing with her disappointments. The
daughter, a gay little lass, had taken Christie to the theatre
several times, there to behold her in all the gauzy glories that
surround the nymphs of spectacular romance.

To Christie this was a great delight, for, though she had pored over
her father's Shakespeare till she knew many scenes by heart, she had
never seen a play till Lucy led her into what seemed an enchanted
world. Her interest and admiration pleased the little actress, and
sundry lifts when she was hurried with her dresses made her grateful
to Christie.

The girl's despondent face, as she came in day after day from her
unsuccessful quest, told its own story, though she uttered no
complaint, and these friendly souls laid their heads together, eager
to help her in their own dramatic fashion.

"I've got it! I've got it! All hail to the queen!" was the cry that
one day startled Christie as she sat thinking anxiously, while
sewing mock-pearls on a crown for Mrs. Black.

Looking up she saw Lucy just home from rehearsal, going through a
series of pantomimic evolutions suggestive of a warrior doing battle
with incredible valor, and a very limited knowledge of the noble art
of self-defence.

"What have you got? Who is the queen?" she asked, laughing, as the
breathless hero lowered her umbrella, and laid her bonnet at
Christie's feet.

"You are to be the Queen of the Amazons in our new spectacle, at
half a dollar a night for six or eight weeks, if the piece goes
well."