That hopeless example had fallen under the lance of the director's criticism.
Mrs.Morgan was still present, but envious and determined, if for nothing more than spite, to do as well as Carrie at least.

A loafing professional had been called in to assume the role of Ray, and, while he was a poor stick of his kind, he was not troubled by any of those qualms which attack the spirit of those who have never faced an audience.

He swashed about (cautioned though he was to maintain silence concerning his past theatrical relationships) in such a self-confident manner that he was like to convince every one of his identity by mere matter of circumstantial evidence.
"It is so easy," he said to Mrs.Morgan, in the usual affected stage voice.

"An audience would be the last thing to trouble me.

It's the spirit of the part, you know, that is difficult." Carrie disliked his appearance, but she was too much the actress not to swallow his qualities with complaisance, seeing that she must suffer his fictitious love for the evening.
At six she was ready to go.