acting on that hint the surprised
gentleman withdrew. He told me himself of the occurrence, and I confess
that Mr. Daly's words gave me a thrill of pleasure.

After those two occurrences I found my theatrical life pleasanter, for I
love my kind and wish to live at peace with them--and Mr. Daly's dislike
had disturbed and distressed me; therefore, when that had been conquered,
great was my contentment. A sympathetic word, a comprehending glance, a
friendly smile, proving ample indemnification for former injuries.

Nor could I be made to accept at full value the cruel gibes, the bitter
sarcasms reported to me as coming from Miss Agnes Ethel. For some reason
there was a distinct effort made to arouse in me an enmity against that
lady. Unpleasant stories had been repeated to me during the run of "Man
and Wife"; some of them had wounded me, but I had only listened silently.
Then one night I met her--a slender, auburn-haired, appealing creature,
with clinging fingers, sympathetic voice, and honest eyes--a woman whose
charming and cordial manner not only won my admiration, but convinced me
she was incapable of the brutalities charged to her.

So when "Jezebel" was announced, and it was known that Mr. Daly desired
Miss Ethel and me both to appear in it, great interest was aroused, only
to be crushed by Miss Ethel's refusal to play the part allotted to her. I
think she was in error, for the two parts were perfectly balanced. Mine
was the wicked, even murderous adventuress; hers the gentle, sweet, and
triumphant wife. I had the first act; she was not in that, but Mr.
Daly's idea was that her victory in the last act--where I was simply
pulverized for my sins--evened things up. But Miss Ethel listened to the
advice of outside friends. Her relations with Mr. Daly were already
strained, and her second refusal of a part was the beginning of the end.

Mr. Daly himself informed me that she said her part was secondary, but
that the real difficulty sprang from an earlier wrangle between them,
with which I had nothing to do. Yet there were persons who, with great
indignation, informed me that Miss Ethel had positively "refused to
appear upon the stage in any play with me--a mere vulgar outsider!"

But "vulgar outsider" was just a touch too strong; "malice had o'erleaped
self" and fallen on the other side. The silly story even reached some of
the papers, but that did not increase my belief in its truth.

Mr. Daly and Miss Ethel parted c