No animal had ever a keener sense of approaching danger than I had, when my professional welfare was threatened, and these small straws told me plainly which way the wind was beginning to blow, and now, looking back, I am convinced that just one more "tigerish part" at that time would have meant artistic ruin to me, for, figuratively speaking, pens were already dipped to write me down "a one-part actress."
Then, one bitter cold day we returned to New York and Mr. Daly, sending for me, said he must ask a favor of me. A form of speech that literally made me "sit up straight"—yes, and gasp, too, with astonishment. With a regretful sigh he went on: "I suppose you know you are a strong attraction?"
I smiled broadly at his evident disapproval of such knowledge on my part, and he continued: "But in this play there is no part for you—yet I greatly need all my strongest people in this first cast. Of course as far as ability is concerned you could play the Countess and make a hit, but she's too old—so you'll not play the mother to marriageable daughters under my management, even in an emergency. Now I have Miss Morant, Miss Davenport and Miss Dietz, but—but I must have your name, too."
I nodded vigorously—I understood. And having seen the play in Paris, where it was one of the three pieces offered for an evening's programme, I mentally reviewed the cast and presently made answer, cheerfully and honestly: "Oh, yes! I see—it's that—'er—Aline? Justine? No, no! Claudine? that's the name of the maid. You want me to go on for that? All right! anything to help!"
He leaned forward, asking, eagerly: "Do you mean that?"
"Of course I do!" I answered.
"Ah!" he cried, "you don't guess well, Miss Morris, but you've the heart of a good comrade, and now I'm sure you will do as I ask you, and play Alixe for me?"
I sprang to my feet with a bound. "Alixe?" I cried. "I to play that child? oh, impossible! No—no! I should be absurd! I—I—I know too much—oh, you understand what I mean! She is a little convent-bred bit of innocence—a veritable baby of sixteen years! Dear Mr. Daly don't you see, I should ruin the play?"
He answered, rather coldly: "You are not given to ruining plays. The part does not amount to much. Good heavens! I admit it does not suit you, but think of my position; give me the benefit of your name as Alixe for one single week, and on the second Monday night Miss Jewett shall take the part off your hands."
"But," I whimpered, "the critics will make me the butt of their ridicule, for I can't make myself look like an Alixe."