had been obliged, at the beginning of Rachel's career, to put down the pretensions of the other sociétaires; they still, naturally enough, perhaps, cherished a feeling of resentment, and certainly Rachel made no effort to propitiate them. They accused her of endeavouring to concentrate on herself all the attention of the public, of never playing to her fellow actors. They said she kept aloof from her companions, never answered them when the action of the play required it, or heard them when it was their turn to reply to her. Sometimes the most ridiculous contretemps occurred in consequence; she would either appear too soon, or leave the other actors on the stage, talking to space. All this naturally incensed her comrades, and made them only too anxious to join the large party of those hostile to her in their own profession, and among literary men and the public. A rival to the throne usurped (as they called it) by the despotic young queen was set up; she proved a most inadequate one in every respect, but so hot was the partisanship, that they not only applauded Mademoiselle Maxime, but dared to hiss Rachel. She expressed her offended feelings in no way, but calmly awaited her opportunity. It soon came. One evening Marie Stuart was given. Maxime was to act Elizabeth, and Rachel the part of the imprisoned Queen. The theatre was filled with an excited crowd, who had evidently come there to pass judgment on the two actresses. Maxime, at every word, at every gesture, was applauded to the echo. Rachel awaited calmly the great scene in the third act between the two rivals, and then so tremendous, so grand, was her acting, that she simply carried her audience away in a frenzy of delight, as she had done before on that celebrated evening when she played Bajazet in spite of Janin and his "clique."
