alone--well, I must end alone. I slipped down the staircase least used,
and at its foot met Mr. George Brown, who was waiting for me. He took my
hands in his and gave me both commendation and congratulation, though
they were stayed and braced with unconscious profanity; and I squeezed
his hands hard and said: "You are so good, oh! you are so good! but
please take care, I'm afraid you'll get forfeited." When he cried:
"D----n the forfeit, it's worth a few dollars to speak as you feel
sometimes, so good-night!"

I scrambled into my street-clothes, caught up the inevitable bag, and
fairly rushed from the theatre, and as I came up from that place of
mouldy smell and burnt-out air, and lifted my face to the stupendous
beauty of the heavens, sniffing delightedly at the cool, pure night air,
suddenly I thought how delicious must have been the first long breath
young Lazarus drew when, obeying the Divine command, he "came forth" from
the tomb.

Tired, excited, I hurried to carry the news to the two who awaited me--my
mother and my dog. At the corner of Twenty-third Street and Broadway I
had to pass around a party of ladies and gentlemen who stood talking
there, and a lady said as I passed: "No, no! it's Morris, I tell you;
see, here it is--Clara Morris." She held up a folded programme, pointing
out the name to a gentleman beside her. I laughed happily. Odd bits of
the evening's happenings kept appearing before me like pictures.
Sometimes I saw the unknown young girl's smiling face--and the scarlet
flowers I failed to receive. Sometimes 'twas Mr. Daly's angry one as he
pitched me on to the stage to acknowledge a compliment I did not want,
great as it was. Most often I saw the faces of the lovely women of the
company. What a galaxy of beauty they made! The stately Newton, the
already full-blown, buxom Davenport, the tall, slender, deer-eyed Dietz,
the oriental Volmer, the auburn-haired Claxton, the blond Norwood! There
were just two women in that company who were not beauties--Mrs. Gilbert
and Miss Morris; even they were wholesome, pleasant women, who did not
frighten horses by any means, but still if you speak of beauty--why,
next! please!

At last I saw the lighted windows that told me home was near. Then up the
stairs, where there bounded upon my breast the little black-and-tan
bundle of love and devotion, called Bertie the loyal, whose fervid
greetings made the removal of my hat so difficult a job that it was
through the