ands who filled the theatre in winding
rows, ascending and receding to the roof high above us. The garish
decorations, the gay throng bedizened with jewels sparkling in the light
and the hundreds of fair faces and bright eyes that were turned toward
us presented a spectacle entirely new to Rayel. Shortly the curtain rose
and the play began. Its first scene was a counterfeit of real stage life
in an English theatre. An important performance is impending and at the
last moment both the leading lady and her understudy are suddenly taken
ill. The management is in a quandary. In the midst of its confusion the
stage carpenter suggests that he has a daughter who can play the part.
When this functionary came upon the scene my interest in the play began
to wax stronger. Hester Chaffin's father had been a stage carpenter, and
this turn in the scene startled me not a little after having found our
picture in the foyer.

The carpenter's suggestion is at first treated with ridicule. He insists
that she has learned the part from witnessing the rehearsals, and urges
the managers to give her a trial. The performance must begin in four
hours or be postponed. It is found that the costumes prepared for the
part will fit the young lady. They consent to try her, the company is
hastily summoned together for rehearsal, and the curtain falls on the
first act. The audience waited impatiently for it to rise again and show
what fortune might have in store for the carpenter's daughter, but of
all that audience I was probably the most impatient.

"There is the Count," whispered Rayel, directing my attention to the
opposite box. The diabolical little Frenchman was there, sure
enough, sitting next to the rail, and sweeping the audience with his
opera-glasses.

Soon the curtain was rung up and the rehearsal began which was to test
the powers of the venturesome young lady. Suddenly she appears at the
rear of the stage dressed for her part in Elizabethan costume. She
is greeted with loud applause, and she stands a moment, waiting for
silence. The lights have been turned down and I cannot see her face
distinctly. Before the last ripple of applause is quieted, she advances
down the centre of the stage and begins to speak her lines. That voice!
What is there in it that thrills me so strangely? When she ceases
speaking she is standing almost within reach of my hand. Suddenly her
eyes meet mine and I see Hester Chaffin standing there on the stage
and looki