e embroidery on it seems an impertinence--a creation lined with
the frailest, most expensive fur known to commerce, frothing with real
lace, dripping with semi-precious jewels--what happens? The cloak pushes
forward and takes precedence of the wearer, a buzz arises, heads bob
this way and that, opera-glasses are turned upon the wonderful cloak
whose magnificence has destroyed the illusion of the play; and while its
beauty and probable price are whispered over, the scene is lost, and ten
to one the actress is oftener thought of as Miss So-and-So, owner of
that wonderful cloak, than as Madame Such-an-One, heroine of the drama.

Extravagance is inartistic--so for that reason I could wish for
moderation in stage dressing. Heavens, what a nightmare dress used to be
to me! For months I would be paying so much a week to my dressmaker for
the gowns of a play. I thought my heart would break to pieces, when,
during the long run of "Divorce," just as I had finished paying for five
dresses, Mr. Daly announced that we were all to appear in new costumes
for the one hundredth night. I pleaded, argued, too, excitedly, that my
gowns were without a spot or stain; that they had been made by the
dressmaker he had himself selected, and he had approved of them, etc.,
and he made answer, "Yes, yes, I know all that; but I want to stir up
fresh interest, therefore we must have something to draw the people, and
they will come to see the new dresses."

And then, in helpless wrath, I burst out with: "Oh, of course! If we are
acting simply as dress and cloak models in the Fifth Avenue show room, I
can't object any longer. You see, I was under the impression people
came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me
my error."

For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our
unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am
surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I
surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the
open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial
revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for
me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after
one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill.

Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she
could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her--that is very
bitter. The