-by, and that night my lips were so cold and
stiff with fright that they would not move. I dropped my head for one
moment on her shoulder; she patted me silently with one hand and
opened the door with the other. I glanced back. Mother waved her hand
and called: 'Good luck! God bless you!' and I was on my way to my
supreme test."

A blaze of lights, a hum of voices, a brilliant throng of exquisitely
gowned, bejeweled women and well-groomed men, in fact a house such as
Wood's leading lady had never before confronted! A chance for triumph
or for disaster--and triumph it was! Like a rolling snowball, it grew
as the play advanced. Again and again Clara Morris took a curtain call
with the other actresses. Finally the stage manager said to Mr. Daly,
"They want _her_," and Mr. Daly answered, sharply: "I know what they
want, and I know what I don't want. Ring up again!"

He did so. But it was useless. At last Mr. Daly said, "Oh, well, ring
up once more, and here, you take it yourself."

Alone, Clara Morris stood before the brilliant throng, vibrating to
the spontaneous storm of enthusiasm, and as she stood before them the
audience rose as one individual, carried out of themselves by an
actress whose work was as rare as it was unique--work which never for
one moment descended to mere stagecraft, but in its simplest gesture
was throbbing with vital human emotion.

As the curtain fell at last, while there was a busy hum of excited
voices, the young person whose place on the New York stage was assured
slipped into her dressing-room, scrambled into her clothes, and rushed
from the theater, hurrying to carry the good news to the two who were
eagerly awaiting her--her mother and her dog. "At last she saw the
lighted windows that told her home was near. In a moment, through a
tangle of hat, veil, and wriggling, welcoming dog, she cried:

"'It's all right, mumsey--a success! Lots and lots of "calls," dear,
and, oh, is there anything to eat? _I am so hungry!_'

"So while the new actress's name was floating over many a restaurant
supper its owner sat beneath one gas-jet, between mother and pet,
eating a large piece of bread and a small piece of cheese, telling her
small circle of admirers all about it, and winding up with the
declaration, 'Mother, I believe the hearts are just the same, whether
they beat against Western ribs or Eastern ribs!'"

Then, supper over, she stumbled through the old-time 'Now I lay me,'
and, adding some bl