st
into tears. In this episode Frohman had repeated what he had done in the
case of Ethel Barrymore ten years before.

Frohman had predicted great things for Miss Murdock, for at the time of
his death there was no doubt of the fact that she was destined, in his
mind, for a very remarkable career.

* * *

But those last years of Frohman's life were not confined exclusively to
the pleasant and grateful task of making lovely women stars. The men
also had a chance, as the case of Donald Brian shows. Frohman had been
much impressed with his success in "The Merry Widow," so he put him
under his management and starred him in "The Dollar Princess," which was
the first of a series of Brian successes.

Frohman saw that Brian had youth, charm, and pleasing appearance. He was
an unusually good singer and an expert dancer. He was equipped to give
distinction to the musical play Frohman wanted to present. He had
watched the interest of his audiences, and saw that young Brian was a
distinct favorite with women as well as men, and his success as star
justified all these plans.

While Frohman was making new stars, older ones came under his control in
swift succession, among them Madame Nazimova, William Courtnay, James K.
Hackett, Kyrle Bellew, Mrs. Fiske, Charles Cherry, John Mason, Martha
Hedman, Alexandra Carlisle, William Courtleigh, Nat Goodwin, Blanche
Bates, Hattie Williams, Gertrude Elliott, Constance Collier, Richard
Carle, and Cyril Maude.

Frohman now reached the very apex of his career. At one time he had
twenty-eight stars under his management; and in addition fully as many
more companies bore his name throughout the country. To be a Frohman
star was the acme of stage ambition, for it not only meant professional
distinction, but equitable and honorable treatment.

* * *

The year 1915 dawned with fateful significance for Charles Frohman. With
its advent began a chain of happenings that, in the light of later
events, seemed almost prophetic of the fatal hour which was now closing
in.

Perhaps the most picturesque and significant of these events was the
reconciliation with his old friend David Belasco. Twelve years before,
through an apparently trivial thing, a breach had developed between
these two men whose fortunes had been so intimately entwined. They had
launched their careers in New York together; the old Madison Square
Theater had housed their first theatrical ambition; they had kept pace
on the road to fa