bout and even over me, since
my hat was twice knocked over my eyes by too emphatic embracings in such
crowded quarters--and still no manager, no prompter. When they quieted
down a bit, everyone took stock of me. It would have been a trying
position even had I been properly gowned, but as it was the
ill-suppressed titters of two extravagantly gowned nonentities and the
swift, appraising glances of the others kept me in agony.

Suddenly a quick step was heard approaching. I nearly laughed aloud in
all my misery at their lightning-quick change of manner. Silence, as of
the grave, came upon them. They all faced toward the coming
steps--anxious-eyed, but with smiles just ready to tremble on to their
lips at an instant's notice. Never had I seen anything so like
trick-poodles. They were ready to do "dead dog," or jump over a chair, or
walk on two legs--ready, too, for either the bone or the blow. I knew
from their strained attitude of attention who was coming, and next
moment, tall and thin and dour, Mr. Daly stood in the doorway. He neither
bowed nor smiled, but crossly asked: "Is Miss Morris here?"

Everyone looked reproachfully at everyone else for not being the desired
person. Then as the managerial frown deepened, from my corner I lifted a
rather faint voice in acknowledgment of my presence, saying: "Yes, sir, I
am here," and he gave that peculiar "huh!" of his, which seemed to be a
combination of groan and snort, and instantly disappeared again.

Oh, dear! oh, dear! I had felt myself uncomfortable before, but now? It
was as if I had sprung up and shouted: "Say! I'm Miss Morris!" Everyone
gazed at me openly now, as if I were a conundrum and they were trying to
guess me. I honestly believe I should have broken down under the strain
in a moment more, but fortunately a slender little man made his silent
appearance at one of the doors and took off his immaculate silk hat,
revealing the thin, blond hair, the big, pale blue pop-eyes of James
Lewis. Twenty minutes ago my heart would have jumped at sight of him, but
I had had a lesson. I expected no greeting now, even from a former
friend. I sat quite still, simply grateful that his coming had taken the
general gaze from my miserable face. He shook hands all round, glanced at
me and passed by, then looked back, came back, held out his hand, saying:
"You stuck-up little brute, I knew you in aprons and pig-tails, and now
you ain't going to speak to me; how are you, Clara?"

Whi