The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1914-05-19

you, Ill have to tell you that. But
it's hard life, and-I want you to
give it up. You're too young, and
you've been too much sheltered, to"
I'm twenty-one, Mr.. Cunningham"
broke in defantly. Even grown
people get the humps. I'm not a
child; I'm as old as-the girl in that
picture"
| rushed out then, and In the first
act, where have the scene with my
guardians wife, | burst into real tears
at the end and got curtain-call. |
was very unhappy; there were num-
Der of things-but it doesn't matter.
One thing was certain-I hated Mr..
Cunningham.
| was quite i'll for day or two at
home. Then, nothing terrible occur
ring, | tried to put the whole thing
out of my mind and to forget that
my theatrical career had died Of the
humps. But the day before the New
York opening heard Ella admit some
one. had just time to slip picture
had been looking at under some of
Tommys stockings | had been mend
ing when he came in. 1t was Mr..
Cunningham!
| shook hands with him and tried
to hide the basket with his picture
and the stockings. Mr. Cunningham
did not sit down. He stood by the
fire and looked down at me severely.
You're bad child" he said at
last; "a runaway. What made you
do 1t, Eleanor"
81 had to-" pleaded. 1T was too
dreadful one getting sick and
blaming it on me- Won't you take off
your overcoat and-and have some
tea?"
| was quite breathless with excite
ment and reaction, and was still ter
ribly afraid of him My hands shook
so that | could hardly pour the tea
He dropped into a chair and looked
around
"Jove, what thing it Is to be in a
real home again." he said, looking
very human indeed with his feet out
before him. Il always pictured you
doing something like this-tea and
mending-instead of roaming around
the country with theatrical COM
pany."
gave him his tea, squeezing bit
of lemon In. and then-suddenly
clapped his hand to his left ear, and
| knew it had come. He waited until
he could speak, and then all he said
was Good Lord"
He looked at me helplessly. There
were only two things | could do
laugh or cry. | had cried so much
that now l aughed-laughed while |
knew that there would be no New
York opening; laughed while the
great Mr. Cunningham glared at me;
/ laughed until he looked injured and
then got over it and laughed himself.
We'll" he said, when we both
(, dried our eyes and got our breath.
Il never expected to laugh over a
tragedy like this. You make me do
anything you want Eleanor"
"Oh, hope you won't be very i'll. -
| said quickly,
But l shall be; I'm sure to. al
ways have things hard" he replied
, getting up and coming over to me
Il took you very hard indeed, Eleanor
| don't care anything about The Pill
lars of Society only know want
my little ward again. Eleanor. the
day you left was wild. can't act
can't live without you. dear. Why
see-you've put your mark on me-"
When he said that, what could do
Anyhow, | forgot completely that this
was the greatest tragedian of his time
All I knew was that he was lonely
and that well, that | didn't hate
him. He crushed me to him-Ill ad
nit that: but Anne told ii as a grea
Joke, when the engagement was an
nounced, that as she came into tn,
hall she heard me say:
"Of course you may. I'm not afraid
} I've had them"
Copyright, by the Frank \. Munsey Co
|