humour of the theatrical tribe. She only
knew of the position which Mr. Hale occupied, but, of all things, she
did not wish to encounter that personage, on account of her intimacy
with his wife.

There was, however, at this time, one theatre, the Chicago Opera House,
which was considerably in the public eye, and its manager, David A.
Henderson, had a fair local reputation. Carrie had seen one or two
elaborate performances there and had heard of several others. She
knew nothing of Henderson nor of the methods of applying, but she
instinctively felt that this would be a likely place, and accordingly
strolled about in that neighbourhood. She came bravely enough to the
showy entrance way, with the polished and begilded lobby, set with
framed pictures out of the current attraction, leading up to the quiet
box-office, but she could get no further. A noted comic opera comedian
was holding forth that week, and the air of distinction and prosperity
overawed her. She could not imagine that there would be anything in such
a lofty sphere for her. She almost trembled at the audacity which might
have carried her on to a terrible rebuff. She could find heart only to
look at the pictures which were showy and then walk out. It seemed to
her as if she had made a splendid escape and that it would be foolhardy
to think of applying in that quarter again.

This little experience settled her hunting for one day. She looked
around elsewhere, but it was from the outside. She got the location of
several playhouses fixed in her mind--notably the Grand Opera House and
McVickar's, both of which were leading in attractions--and then came
away. Her spirits were materially reduced, owing to the newly restored
sense of magnitude of the great interests and the insignificance of her
claims upon society, such as she understood them to be.

That night she was visited by Mrs. Hale, whose chatter and protracted
stay made it impossible to dwell upon her predicament or the fortune
of the day. Before retiring, however, she sat down to think, and gave
herself up to the most gloomy forebodings. Drouet had not put in an
appearance. She had had no word from any quarter, she had spent a
dollar of her precious sum in procuring food and paying car fare. It was
evident that she would not endure long. Besides, she had discovered no
resource.

In this situation her thoughts went out to her sister in Van Buren
Street, whom she had not seen since the night of her flig