self at all, Molly dear, 'twas my shadow on the wall,'
and in any case man can't live by soup kitchens alone--nor woman either.
And knowing what a poor, weak, vain woman I am at the best, I ask myself
sometimes would it not be a thousand times better if I yielded to my true
nature instead of struggling to realize a bloodless ideal that is not me
in the least, but only my picture in the heart of some one who thinks me
so much better than I am?

"Not that anybody ever sees what a hypocrite I can be, though I came near
to letting the cat out of the bag as lately as last night. You must know
that when I turned my back on London at the command of John Knox the
second, I brought all my beautiful dresses along with me, except such of
them as were left at the theatre. Yet I daren't lay them out in the
drawers, so I kept them under lock and key in my boxes. There they lurked
like evil spirits in ambush, and as often as their perfume escaped into
the room my eyes watered for another sight of them! But in spite of all
temptation I resisted, I conquered, I triumphed--until last night when
Rosa talked of Juliet, what a glorious creature she was, and how there
was nobody on the stage who could 'look' her and 'play' her too!

"What do you think I did? Shall I tell you? Yes, I will. I crept upstairs
to my quiet little room, tugged the box from its hiding-place under the
bed, drew out my dresses--my lovely, lovely brocades--and put them on!
Then I spoke the potion speech, beginning in a whisper, but getting
louder as I went on, and always looking at myself in the glass. I had
blown out the candle, and there was no light in the room but the moon
that was shining on my face, but I was glowing, my very soul was afire,
and when I came to the end I drew myself up with eyes closed and head
thrown back and heart that paused a beat or two, and said, '_I_--_I_ am
Juliet, for I am a great actress!'

"Oh, oh, oh! I could scream with laughter to think of what happened next!
Suddenly I became aware of somebody knocking at my door (I had locked it)
and of a thin voice outside saying fretfully: 'Glory, whatever is it?
Aren't you well, Glory?' It was the little auntie; and thinking what a
shock she would have if I opened the door and she came upon this grand
Italian lady instead of poor little me, I had to laugh and to make
excuses while I smuggled off my gorgeous things and got back into my
plain ones!

"It was a narrow squeak; but I had a narrower