e. Her vacillating
nature was such that she could not be absolutely true to the man to
whom she had given her life, and, after several bitter experiences,
she had the horror of seeing him kill himself in front of her. There
was a momentary spasm of grief, a tidal wave of remorse, and then the
peculiar recuperation of spirits, beauty and attractiveness that
so marks this type of woman. She was deceived by other men in many
various ways, and finally came to that stage of life that is known in
theatrical circles as being "wised up."

At nineteen, the attention of a prominent theatrical manager being
called to her, she took an important part in a New York production,
and immediately gained considerable reputation. The fact that, before
reaching the age of womanhood, she had had more escapades than most
women have in their entire lives was not generally known in New York,
nor was there a mark upon her face or a single coarse mannerism to
betray it. She was soft-voiced, very pretty, very girlish. Her keen
sense of worldly calculation led her to believe that in order to
progress in her theatrical career she must have some influence outside
of her art and dramatic accomplishment; so she attempted, with no
little success, to infatuate a hard-headed, blunt and supposedly
invincible theatrical manager, who, in his cold, stolid way, gave her
what love there was in him. This, however, not satisfying her, she
played two ends against the middle, and, finding a young man of wealth
and position who could give her, in his youth, the exuberance and
joy utterly apart from the character of the theatrical manager, she
adopted him, and for a while lived with him. Exhausting his money, she
cast him aside, always spending a certain part of the time with the
theatrical manager. The young man became crazed, and, at a restaurant,
tried to murder all of them.

From that time up to the opening of the play, her career was a
succession of brilliant coups in gaining the confidence and love,
not to say the money, of men of all ages and all walks in life. Her
fascination was as undeniable as her insincerity of purpose. She
had never made an honest effort to be an honest woman, although she
imagined herself always persecuted, the victim of circumstances,--and
was always ready to excuse any viciousness of character which led her
into her peculiar difficulties. While acknowledged to be a mistress of
her business--that of acting--from a purely technical po