el would play _Anne_.
Was she ill? Had she met with an accident? And why should Mr. Daly wish
to see me privately? Could he be going to ask me to read the part over to
him? Oh, dear, heaven forbid! for I could much more successfully fly up
into the blue sky.

The stairs that led down from the sidewalk to the stage-door passed
across the one, the only, window of the entire basement, which let a
modicum of light into a tiny den, intended originally for the janitor's
use, but taken by Mr. Daly for his private office. Here the great guiding
intelligence of the entire establishment was located. Here he dreamed
dreams and spun webs, watching over the incomings, the outgoings, the
sayings and the doings of every soul in the company. He would have even
regulated their thoughts, if he could. I once said to him, after a
rehearsal: "If you could, sir, while in the theatre at least, you would
force us all to think only 'Hail, Daly!'"

He laughed a little, and then rather grimly remarked: "That speech made
to anyone else would have cost you five dollars, Miss Morris. But if you
have absolutely _no_ reverence, neither have you fear, so let it pass,"
and I never said "Thank you" more sincerely in my life, for I could ill
afford jests at five dollars apiece.

But that morning of the first rehearsal, as I hurried down the stairs,
the shade was drawn up high, and through the window I saw Mr. Daly
sitting, swinging about, in his desk-chair. Before I could tap, he called
for me to enter. He was very pale, very rumpled, very tired-looking. He
wasted no time over greetings or formalities, but curtly asked: "Can you
play _Anne Sylvester_?"

And, almost as curtly, I answered: "Yes, sir!"

The calm certainty of my tone seemed to comfort him; he relaxed his
seemingly strained muscles, and sank back into his chair. He passed his
long, thin fingers wearily across his closed eyes several times, then, as
he opened them, he asked, sharply: "Can you obey orders?"

"Yes," I answered, "I've been obeying orders all my life long."

"Well," he said, "can you keep quiet--that's the thing. Can you keep
quiet about this part?"

I stared silently at him.

"This thing is between ourselves. Now, are you going to tell the people
all about when you received it?"

I smiled a little bitterly as I replied: "I am hardly likely to tell my
business affairs to people who do not speak to me."

He looked up quickly, for I stood all the time, and asked: "What's