PAGE 16
Nona Vincent
by
“I was better–I was better,” said Violet Grey, throwing off her cloak in the little drawing-room.
“You were perfection. You’ll be like that every night, won’t you?”
She smiled at him. “Every night? There can scarcely be a miracle every day.”
“What do you mean by a miracle?”
“I’ve had a revelation.”
Wayward stared. “At what hour?”
“The right hour–this afternoon. Just in time to save me–and to save YOU.”
“At five o’clock? Do you mean you had a visit?”
“She came to me–she stayed two hours.”
“Two hours? Nona Vincent?”
“Mrs. Alsager.” Violet Grey smiled more deeply. “It’s the same thing.”
“And how did Mrs. Alsager save you?”
“By letting me look at her. By letting me hear her speak. By letting me know her.”
“And what did she say to you?”
“Kind things–encouraging, intelligent things.”
“Ah, the dear woman!” Wayworth cried.
“You ought to like her–she likes YOU. She was just what I wanted,” the actress added.
“Do you mean she talked to you about Nona?”
“She said you thought she was like her. She IS–she’s exquisite.”
“She’s exquisite,” Wayworth repeated. “Do you mean she tried to coach you?”
“Oh, no–she only said she would be so glad if it would help me to see her. And I felt it did help me. I don’t know what took place– she only sat there, and she held my hand and smiled at me, and she had tact and grace, and she had goodness and beauty, and she soothed my nerves and lighted up my imagination. Somehow she seemed to GIVE it all to me. I took it–I took it. I kept her before me, I drank her in. For the first time, in the whole study of the part, I had my model–I could make my copy. All my courage came back to me, and other things came that I hadn’t felt before. She was different–she was delightful; as I’ve said, she was a revelation. She kissed me when she went away–and you may guess if I kissed HER. We were awfully affectionate, but it’s YOU she likes!” said Violet Grey.
Wayworth had never been more interested in his life, and he had rarely been more mystified. “Did she wear vague, clear-coloured garments?” he asked, after a moment.
Violet Grey stared, laughed, then bade him go in to supper. “YOU know how she dresses!”
He was very well pleased at supper, but he was silent and a little solemn. He said he would go to see Mrs. Alsager the next day. He did so, but he was told at her door that she had returned to Torquay. She remained there all winter, all spring, and the next time he saw her his play had run two hundred nights and he had married Violet Grey. His plays sometimes succeed, but his wife is not in them now, nor in any others. At these representations Mrs. Alsager continues frequently to be present.