ou see that--that air was his message to you? a message from the
dying or the dead!" his fingers nervously sought the little amulet he
wore.

"But," I objected, "he had been dead many hours before the song came to
me?"

When, with the utmost conviction, he instantly answered: "Think how far
you were asunder--what a distance he had to come to you!"

Being a very practical young person, a smile was rising to my lips, but a
glance into his earnest eyes, that had become strange and mystic, checked
it.

"I shall tell Father D----y of this," he said, half to himself, then,
looking at me, he added: "The man loved you greatly, whatever he may
have been, for you have received his message--whether it came from the
man dying or the man dead. Go home, child; never mind about the scenes
to-day--go home!"

And with that weird idea firmly fixed in his mind, he dismissed me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH

I accept an Engagement with Mr. Macaulay for Cincinnati as Leading
Lady--My Adieus to Cleveland--Mr. Ellsler Presents Me with a Watch.

After years of weary waiting, years of patient work, I had reached the
position of juvenile leads _de jure_, but of general lack _de facto_, and
then, lacking as my character was in the element of "push," even _I_
could see plainly that I was throwing away myself and my chances in life
by remaining in a position where I faced the sign of "No thoroughfare."

That Mrs. Ellsler would retain the leading business while her husband
retained a theatre was certain. I knew positively that some of
Cleveland's leading business men, sturdy supporters of the theatre,
finding that their mildly expressed dissatisfaction with the make-up of
the company was ignored, had written and plainly asked for a change, just
as Mr. Ellsler, every two years, changed the comedian, leading man, etc.,
etc. They declared that his business would double in consequence; and
this was submitted with the kindliest intentions and no wish to wound
anyone, etc., and they were, with great respect--various business men.

At all events, when the letter had produced embarrassed discomfort in one
quarter and fierce anger in another, it became inactive. I rightly judged
that the "No thoroughfare" sign was permanent--there was no further
advancement possible in that theatre; therefore I rejoiced greatly when I
had an engagement offered me, even though, for reasons touching the
reputation of the manager who wrote, I refused it--still