No; Destiny, like a demonstrator at a pure-food exhibition, stands back of her counter in the world, and to those who happen to pass the booth of success she hands a sample. Sometimes the samples are small, sometimes large; but, whatever the size, let him who receives one never mistake his sample for a complete package of success.
It was strange that Jean Caspian made this blunder. Surely four years of theatrical experience were enough to have proved to her that, for an actor, there is only one real success—a hit in New York. How could she have forgotten that theatrical judgment-seat, where the sheep are separated from the goats?
But here, in Milwaukee, with applause still ringing in her ears, with the local papers full of her praise, her head was fairly turned with her triumph. Guy Norman’s leading lady! As she had won her way up step by step in his company, how she had longed for this final moment to come! Intoxicated with the realization of her ambition, she had already begun to live in a glorious future.
On the morning of the third day in Milwaukee, as Jean sat on her bed, reading a joyous letter from her mother, a high-spirited rap sounded on the door.
“Are you in, old pal?” Clara Coolwood, just from an understudy rehearsal, entered excitedly.
“Jean, what d’ you think! Company’s going to close! Norman’s ill!”
Jean heard the words, but, instead of seeing Clara’s agitated face, a vision loomed before her: she had forgotten New York. Broadway was still unattained.
Clara caught her look of despair, and continued:
“Oh, it may not be for long, Jean. Anyway, you needn’t worry, with the big start you’ve made.”
“A big start! Yes, two nights as leading woman—in Milwaukee!”