cars, clamorous, irritable,
and timid, jammed at the crossings like sheep at a river-ford, while
overhead the electric trains thundered to and fro, crowded with other
citizens also theatre-bound. It seemed that the whole metropolis, alert
to the drama, had flung its health and wealth into one narrow stream,
and yet, "in all these thousands of careless citizens, who thinks of
_Lillian's Duty_?" thought the unnerved playwright.

"What do these laughing, insatiate amusement-seekers care about any
one's duty? They are out to enjoy life. They are the well-to-do, the
well-fed, the careless livers. Many of them are keen, relentless
business-men wearied by the day's toil. They are now seeking relaxation,
and not at all concerned with acquiring wisdom or grace. They are,
indeed, the very kind of men to whom my play sets the cold steel, and
their wives, of higher purpose, of gentler wills, are, nevertheless,
quite as incapable of steady and serious thought. Not one of them has
any interest in the problem I have set myself to delineate."

He was saved from utter rout by remembrance of Helen. He recalled the
Wondrous Woman as she had seemed to him of old, striving to regain his
former sense of her power, her irresistible fascination. He assured
himself that her indirect influence over the city had been proven to be
enormous, almost fantastic, though her worshippers knew the real woman
not at all, allured only by the aureoled actress. Yes, she would
triumph, even if the play failed, for they would see her at last in a
congenial role wherein her nobility, her intellectual power would be
given full and free expression. Her appeal to her worshippers would be
doubled.

When he returned to the theatre a throng of people filled the
entrance-way, and he was emboldened to pass in--even bowed to the
attendants and to Hugh, who stood in the lobby, in shining raiment, a
_boutonniere_ in his coat, his face radiating confidence and pride.

"We've got 'em coming," he announced, with glee. "We are all sold
out--not a seat left, and only the necessary 'paper' out. They're
curious to see her in a new role. You are made!"

"I hope so," replied the playwright, weakly. "Tuesday night tells the
story."

Hugh laughed. "Why, man, I believe you're scared. We're all right. I can
sniff victory in the air."

This confidence, so far from inspiriting Douglass, still further
depressed him, and he passed in and on up into the second gallery,
where he ha