, 1897-04-20
HER LAST DANCE.

The bolt had fallen that morning, ant
with numb, folded hands and dry, ter
ror filed eyes she sat in the darkest cor
ner of her gay little drawing room, be
meath the CHASTITY chamber whence wert
oon to be borne the earthly remains o
her husband.
What was she to do? How was she tC
procure not the luXuries without which
she scarce imagined her child could ex
list, but the bare necessities of life? Ev.
cry piece of furniture in the house was
m%ortgaged to its full value and her last
jewel had gone to pay the rent. Thank
Heaven, they could have this haven fol
some time to come! She was in debt tc
butcher and baker, and she had not had
a new pair of gloves for months. Shil,
lings had become the basis of cxpendi
ture as g~uineas had been hitherto.
In the morning sympathizing friends
came to support and assist her through
the trying ordeal. All passed like q
dream. "Tout passe, tout passe,'' she
said over and over, "but my heart is
strong"
When, a month later, she sat with
Cousin Selma in the same ROOM, in the
same chair, listening again to the gusty
u AS it beat against the windows, it
was to her as if no appreciate time had
interviewed. Dreamily she took up the
thread of her thoughts where she had
dropped it that sad night, and the
strange conceit came back to her.
Women less brilliant, but.stolid and
plodding, were enscoICed in journals
where she had disdained even to allow
her verses to appear. With voices in no
way comparable to her, she saw others
succeed, while she, who sang like Il bird
but like Il bird, too, only when in
spired-could make no impression. And
SO, lowered as she was, she was poorer
and more helpless than the humblest
woman who could conscientiously knit
pair of stockings or embroider Il tea
cloth.
The pretty face seemed pinched and
weary. Two deep lines began to inclose
the dropping mouth. Il smile en- paren-
these" she said to Cousin Selma us she
turned from the mirror, where she was
trying to change the expression of those
quivering lips, that even at the moment
curved upward, n Cupid's bow, at the
quaint conceit.
More surely than ever she knew she
could ask no favors, but must put her
own shoulder to the wheel. But what to
do when all else failed? To dance on the
stage! Why not? She could dance. All
her life she had loved to dance. In her
greatest joy she had ever found fullest
expression in dancing to her own retlec-
tons before the long mirror in her bou
doir. A hundred times her darling had
been lulled to sleep, eased of her pain
by the dancing of her ''pretty mumsie."
Once, with her husband, she had seen n
famous actress-a woman chasto us her.
self-dance so gracefully, yet with an
abandon so perfect, as to captivate an au-
dience accustomed to exhibitions from
which she had turned in loathing-to
his since his taste grew
yearly less refined. Even then, "the pity
OF it," she had sighed. And how much
ever then was implied that she should
say, turning to him:
"That l could do, 1 am certain"
May you never need" he had an
swered fervently, for he loved her
and was proud of her, though his paths
In life were devious, though he would
not follow her. 1t all came back
to her vividly-the gay scene, the
>ager faces, the murmur of delight,
the applause that rose again and again
fast. Yes, she would dance. 1t might
cost her the few friends she still pos
sessed, but as long as she helped herself
she could maintain her pride.
Next day became Il tiresome round of
interviews With impatient, incredulous
or impertinent managers, with II heart
growing daily heavier and brain sharp
ened almost to ~viciousness. At last an
impresario, touched by her grace and
the expression of brave despair i'll her
hungry eyes, granted her a trial, fixing
an hour ut the theatcr IN the following
day i'll the early forenoon. Amid a con
course of wtmcn, some sympathetic,
some brazenly iLquisitiye, all so differ
ent from herself that she scarce felt they
were her sisters, she made her first essay.
How unreal it seemcd-a dream from
which she would waken in a moment!
She has kept her glance straight be-
fore her, trying TO, shut out the crudity
of her surroundings = the "sets" all
awry, the glimpses of busy carpenters
and scene shifters, the flashily dressed
men mud women waiting for rehearsal
and fa1niliarizing in a way that gave
her a mental nausea. A row of raw girls
in soiled dancing shoes and fleshings,
their upper halves clothed in ordinary
bodices, went awkwardly through their
matutinal drill. The odor Of dust and
oil and paint began to overpower her,
and she was On the verge Of losing. her
self possession when the kind voice Of
the manager, close behind her, said:
"Your turn, madame. Will you tell
me what music you desire?" The Or
chestra, composed of one violin on the
stage, began the swinging nccompani-
ment Of lila Paloma," and at the end,
and while the blood beat and surged in
d~eafening throbs in her heavy head,
again she heard the voice Of the nan
gen. seemingly agreat distance of:
Accept my compliments, madame.
shall be glad to offer you a salary Of
clio q week. 1 am sure you will have .
success" "Un succees fou," he said,
turning to the orchestra, who graceful
IL waved his fiddle, bowed low and re-
piled. "Sans doute." Poor woman, she
looked into their eyes to see II they were
hooking her. Then, convinced Of their
md faith. she mu1tered all her strength,