San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-02-20
poor chudw | sad.

band for one of hers Did Eustace make
himself disagreeable to your
lit was more, | think she answered, as
If rejecting, the standard be always seemed
to carry about with him than anything con-
nected with my own work At least. of
course / mean before that Nuneham day
ALI, that Nuneham day 1t cut deep
She turned away from me and leaned over
the side of the boat, so that | could not see
her face.
"'You forced it out of Eustace, you know
| said, trying to laugh at her, you uncom
promising young person! OF course he fiat
tered himself that you forgot al about his
preaching the moment you got home Men
always make themselves believe what they
want to believe
why should he want to believe so? she
replied quickly. 4 bad half foreSeen it, |
had forced it from him, and yet felt it like
a blow 1t cost me a sleepless night. and
sOme-well some very bitter tears Not that
the tears were new experience. How often,
after all that noise at the theatre, have
gone home and cried myself to sleep over the
impoSsibility of doing what | wanted to do,
of moving those hundreds Of people, of max
ing them feel and of putting my own feeling
into shape! But that night, and with my
sense of illness just then, | saw myself
it seemed to me quite i'll the near future
grown old and ugly, a forgotten failure
without any of those memories which con-
sole people who have been great when they
must give up. l felt myself struggling
against such a weight of ignorance, Of bad
habits, of unfavorable surroundings. How
was | ever TO get free and to re--rse that
judgment of Mr., KendaI's: My very su cess
stood in my way How was Miss Brother
ton to put herself to SCHOOL,
But now | said to her warmly, YOU
have SOt free, or, rather, you are on the way
70 freedom
She thought little without speaking,
her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on
her knee. W. We're passing the great red
brown mass Of the Armenian convent She
seemed to be drinking in the dazzling har.
monies of blue and warm brown and pearlv
light. When she did speak again it was very
slowly, as though she were trying to give
words to a number of complex impressions.
YES she said, 1T seems to me that am
different; but | can't tell exactly how or
why. see all sorts of new possibilities, new
meanings everywhere; that is one half of it
But the other, and the greater, half is-hJw
knowledge which may come to me tell on my
art And then she changed altogether with
ono of those delightful swift transf nrmatiOns
of hers, aEi her face rippled with laughter.
AT present the chief result of the difference,
whatever it may be, seems to be to make me
most unmanageable at home | am forever
dlsagreeing with my people, saying | can't
do this and | won't do that am getting to
enjoy having my own way in the most abom.
Unable manner And then she caught my
hand, that was holding hers, between both
her OVID, and said half laughing and half in
earnest:
Did you ever realize that | don't know
any single language besides my own-not
even French! That can't read any French
book or any French play?
WELL said, half laughing, too, it is
very astonishing. And you know it can't go
on if you are to do what think you will do.
French you positively must learn, and learn
quickly. don't mean to say that we haven't
good plays and tradition of our own; but
for the moment France is the center of your
art, and you cannot remain at a distance
from it! The French have organized their
knowledge; it is available for all who come
Ours is still floating and amateuriSh'-
And so Oh. You may imagine it, my
dear Eustace; spare you any more of it YER
batim. After had talked away for a long
time, and brought it all back to the absolute
necessity that she should know French and
become acquainted with French acting and
French dramatic ideals, she pulled me up in
the full career Of eloquence by demanding
with little practical air, twinkle lurking
somewhere in her eyes
Explain to me- please how it Is To ba