Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-40.djvu/443

Rh I had quite a little success. I got stories in the London Journal. Then I had a great stroke of luck: I wrote some articles that were accepted by one of the best papers and made some slight stir. I thought my future was safe, and, though my poor sister and I had a hard struggle to make ends meet, we were hopeful.

Then I brought out a book; and again, just as I seemed to be getting on, came a dead-lock in my affairs.

My articles and stories were no longer suitable, and I could get nothing accepted. This time there was no money to be paid to any one to advance me: it was simply a question of lasting out; and we could not last.

My sister married, and I kept up the struggle alone. Every week I paid out a little more of my capital, but nothing came in. I grew so desperate that I almost decided to give in and be a governess; but I had too much strength of mind, thank God! I felt, however, that the anxiety was wearing on me, and that I must find employment that would bring me a regular salary.

With much tremor and uncertainty, I bethought me of the stage. If my voice with further cultivation would have been fit for grand opera, was it not now suitable for comic opera?

I decided that it was, and made up my mind to try.

I went to a manager and sang for him; and never have I felt so humiliated as during that interview.

I was shown into an office furnished like a woman's boudoir, and kept waiting nearly an hour: then in came a little man with a red beard, who demanded, brusquely,—

"What do you want?"

I meekly explained.

"Any experience?"

"None."

"What's your voice?"

"Alto."

"Stand up, please. H'm! you're big enough. Maybe you'll do." He rang a bell. A boy appeared. "Ask Mr. Frank to step here."

A fair, handsome man entered.

"Frank, play something for Miss what's your name?—to sing."

"Frank" played, and I sang. Half through the song the red-bearded man interrupted me with—

"There; that will do. What salary do you want?"

I had no idea, and said so.

He rang the bell once more. "Send Edwards in."

Edwards appeared.

"Edwards, take down this lady's name, address, and voice.—Good-day, Miss If I want you I'll write to you."

It was done in a flash of lightning, and I went home without the slightest hope of hearing any more from him.

Some days after, to my surprise, I received a laconic summons to the office.

I again waited an hour. Then in flashed the manager.