She was cheered when she entered the little theater,
but, if there was a brief surprise, it was quickly succeeded by the
comment which generally followed all her doings: "This is just like
Maggie; no one can depend on how she will act for a moment."
At that rehearsal, however, people were taken by surprise. If the
Princess did well, the young Prince did better. Priscilla had
completely dropped her role of the awkward and gauche girl. From the
first there had been vigor and promise in her acting. To-night there
was not only vigor, but tenderness-- there was a passion in her voice
which arose now and then to power. She was so completely in sympathy
with her part that she ceased to be Priscilla: she was the Prince who
must win this wayward Princess or die.
Maggie came up to her when the rehearsals were over.
"I congratulate you," she said. "Prissie, you might do well on the
stage."
Priscilla smiled. "No," she said, "for I need inspiration to forget
myself."
"Well, genius would supply that."
"No, Maggie, no. The motive that seems to turn me into the Prince
himself cannot come again. Oh, Maggie, if I succeed! If I succeed!"
"What do you mean, you strange child?"
"I cannot tell you with my voice: don't you guess?"
"I cannot say.
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