hearing. Miss Merival gave my play a superb production,
and her impersonation ought to fill the theatre, even if _Lillian's
Duty_ were an indifferent play, which it is not. Miss Merival, in
changing the entire tone and character of her work, must necessarily
disappoint a certain type of admirer. Last night's audience was very
largely made up of those who hate serious drama, and naturally they did
not like my text. All that is a detail. We will create our own
audience."

The reporters carried away a vivid impression of the author's youth,
strength, and confidence, and one of them sat down to convey to the
public his admiration in these words:

"Mr. Douglass is a Western man, and boldly shies his buckskin into
the arena and invites the keenest of his critics to take it up. If
any one thinks the 'roast' of his play has even singed the author's
wings, he is mistaken. He is very much pleased with himself. As he
says, a hearing is a great thing. He may be a chopping-block, but
he don't look it."

Helen met her playwright with an anxious, tired look upon her face, but
when he touched her fingers to his lips and said, "At your service, my
lady," she laughed in radiant, sudden relief.

"Oh, but I'm glad to see you looking so gay and strong. I was heart-sore
for you last night. I fancied you in all kinds of torture."

His face darkened. "I was. My blue devils assailed me, but I vanquished
them, thanks to your note," he added, with a burning glance deep-sent,
and his voice fell to a tenderness which betrayed his heart. "I think
you are the most tolerant star that ever put out a hand to a poor
author. What a beast I was to run away! But I couldn't help it then. I
wanted to see you, but I couldn't face Westervelt and Royleston. I
couldn't endure to hear them say, 'I told you so.' You understood, I'm
sure of it."

She studied him with admiring eyes. "Yes, I understood--later. At first
I was crushed. It shook my faith in you for a little while." She put off
this mood (whose recollected shadows translated into her face filled
Douglass's throat with remorse) and a smile disclosed her returning
sense of humor. "Oh, Hugh and Westervelt are angry--perfectly purple
with indignation against you for leading me into a trap--"

"I feared that. That is why I begged you to throw my play--"

She laid a finger on her lips, for Mrs. MacDavitt came in. "Mother, here
is Mr. Douglass. I told you he would come. I