"Pardon me," I answered, huskily, "you chose for me when you told me to
go!" I bowed to him and went out, sore at heart and deeply wounded, for I
was keeping silent as to his broken promise out of sheer gratitude for
the opening he had given me.
The letter-box for the company hung near his private office. One night,
as he unlocked his door, he saw old man Keating (the stage-door man)
sorting out letters for the various boxes. One caught Mr. Daly's eye,
bearing the name of Wallack. He took it from Keating's hand; it was
addressed to Clara Morris. No one ever called Mr. Daly a dull man, and
when he put two and two together, even in a hurry, he knew quite well
that the result would be four; and when he put the words, "Wallack's
Theatre," and the address, "Clara Morris," together he knew equally well
the result would be an offered engagement. Then Mr. Daly put back the
letter and said sharply to the reverent Keating: "Whatever you do, don't
let Miss Morris pass you when she comes in. Stop her before she takes her
key. Remember, whether early or late, stop her anyway, and send her to my
room. Tell her it is urgent--you understand? Before she gets her key (by
the letter-box) I _must_ see her!"
Yes, he understood, for when I came in I was switched away from the
key-board in a jiffy and rushed by the elbow to the governor's office,
and even held there until the summons to enter answered the knock of the
determined and obedient Keating.
Inside, Mr. Daly, smiling benignly, greeted me as one greets a naughty,
spoiled child, and pulling me by my fingers toward his desk, showed me a
contract outspread: "A contract for _one_ season," he said, giving me a
light tap on my ear. "Though you must promise silence on the subject, for
there would be an outcry of favoritism if it were known that I broke a
rule for you! Salary? oh, the salary is only fifty-five dollars, but we
will balance that by my assistance in the matter of wardrobe. Whenever
you have five dresses to buy I will provide three, which will belong to
me afterward, of course--and--and just sign now, for I'm in a great
haste, child, as I have an appointment to keep! Oh, you don't want any
time to think over an engagement of just one season! You obstinate little
block! and, by the way, I'll add five dollars a week to your present
salary for the rest of the season, if you sign this--yes, that's the
right place!"
So pinched, so tormented were we for money that I signed ins
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