as far as “married to-morrow”—­then she paused—­hesitated—­she put her hand to her head as if everything had gone from her brain—­and at the same moment Estelle, with the most admirable presence of mind, continued, “See, here comes your betrothed,” thus giving the lover his cue.  The dialogue now remained with Estelle and this husband-elect, so that Nina had time to recover; and in the trio that closes the scene she sang her part well enough.  Directly they had left the stage, Estelle ran to her friend.

“Nina, what was the matter?” she exclaimed.

“My head—­” said Nina, pressing her hand against her forehead and talking rather faintly—­“I do not know—­my head is giddy, Estelle—­oh, I wish it was all over!—­I wish I was home!”

“You have very little more to do now, Nina!” Estelle said quickly to her, in French.  “Come, you must have courage, Nina—­I will run and get you my smelling-salts, and it will pass away—­oh, you must make an effort, Nina—­would you let Miss Burgoyne see you break down—­no, no, indeed!  You will be all right, Nina, I assure you—­and I will tell the prompter to be on the watch for you—­oh, I wouldn’t give way—­before Miss Burgoyne—­if I were you, no, not for a hundred pounds!”

Therewith the kind-hearted little French officer sped away to her own room, and brought back the smelling-salts and was most eagerly solicitous that Nina should conquer this passing attack of hysteria, as she deemed it.  And, indeed, Nina managed to get through the rest of her part without any serious breakdown, to Estelle’s exceeding joy.

As they went home together in the four-wheeled cab, Nina did not utter a word.  Once or twice Estelle fancied she heard a slight sob; but she merely said to herself,

“Ah, it has come back, that trembling of the nerves?  But I will make her take some wine at supper, and she will go to bed and sleep well; to-morrow she will have forgotten all about it.”

And Estelle was most kind and considerate when they got down to Sloane Street.  She helped Nina off with her things; she stirred up the fire; she put a bottle of white wine on the table, where supper was already laid; she drew in Nina’s chair for her.  Then Mrs. Grey came up, to see that her children, as she called them, were all right; and she was easily induced to stay for a little while, for a retired actress is always eager to hear news of the theatre; so she and Miss Girond fell to talking between themselves.  Nina sat silent; her eyes seemed heavy and tired; she only pretended to touch the food and wine before her.

“Very well, then, Nina,” her friend said, when Mrs. Grey had gone, “if you will have nothing to eat or to drink, you must go to bed and see what a sound night’s rest will do for you.  I am going to sit up a little while to read, but I shall not disturb you.”

“Good-night, then, Estelle,” said Nina, rather languidly; “you have been so kind to me!”