Evening star., 1921-08-07

open 10 pace ltS OWN COITiuV10 Va
desolation. She worked SO quietly that
the rest of her company accepted IT as
fatigue. 1t was Anada Kinsella alone
who was disturbed by the change in her
| mother. For it was seldom the older
| woman permitted mood or worry or
| WEAKNESS to show its head between her
and her audience.
whats the matter with mother"
asked the girl in the middle of high
voltage scene with Wallie. The girl had
grown adept at such word juggling be-
| tween her lines, and this question was
put. as she was faced up-stage. without
, movement of the play.
"Why?" asked the young Mexican.
| when his chance came.
| -She frightens me with that look on
| her face" explained the girl in slightly
| delayed aside.
''She always frightens me-" was
| Wallie's final retort. But being less
adroit in such things, he suddenly
| glover and cross again before his
| stage mate remembered to throw him
his line and permit the heated scene
| to gallop on to its end.
But Katherine Kinsella, that night.
| refused to gallop. She seemed al
| ways parrying for time, as though in
tent on Withholding some elimination
! which she dreaded to face. She SEEM
| ed afraid to move forward. She was
| deathly quiet by the time the final
act was under way. for she knew the
l Idtdl cdTlTluSe idu DteH silpptu
| observed into the waiting revolver
| and she knew the part that cartridge
| was destined to play. She no longer
| needed to compel herself to calmness,
| for by this time the fires of her spirit
| seemed burned out. 1t was not alone
| that she went through her part with
| an air of pathos and repose that
| seemed new to her. But life had
hammered and shaped and chilled her
/ to a cutting edge, and the knife went
| deep, Yet she Eearned over her
daughter with a tenderness which no
longer remained in her control. for
| she could happiness in the girls
| face, and that happiness. she knew.
/ was SO soon to end. The girl would
not understand the final kindness in
| all the seeming cruelty But she
| would learn in time. 1t would shock
her out of her childish dreams. 1t
| would mature her, send her back to
| her life's work with a ripper mind.
| for il was only those who knew grief
| who could ever hope TO portray II.
That was the price they all had TO
! pay. And il was too late now to
turn back.
She remembered that as she con-
fronted the young Mexican grandee
who was her fictitious enemy of the
| moment. Yet he was mere boy. she
4 also remembered as she gestured and
| cried with the automatism Of habit
so fixed that her thoughts were left
| free to range as they would. and her
quickened emotions came and went
! without hindrance. But he had taken
| out Of her life the only thing she had
loved. He was leaving her. in his
| blindness. nothing with which to face
| the bald and empty future. She had
planned and schemed and toiled for
that future, and if price was being
demanded to hold it, it was she her
self who was paying that price And
| she was ready.
VET as the act went on she had her
sickening moments of hesitation.
And to fight back that threatening
weakness she had to visualize the
youth in the tawdry exotic makeup
as the impersonation of all evil. She
had to force herself to hate him. She
was compelled to drug herself with
the venom of a tortured and twisted
imagination. She had to lash her
self into a fury at the thing which ii
was essential she should abhor. She
had to fashion make believe into the
mold of actuality until stage illusion
and life itself merged and blended.
until her dizzy brain stood convinced
that in saving the mimic daughter
. of that tawdry melodrama she was
saving the breathing and living
daughter who could and should not be
taken away from her. And in doing
this. for the first time in many
year of over -facile ranting. she lost
herself in her part.
Budanski slouching low in his
seat made a movement which the
man sitting beside him accepted as
%
man, the next moment. realized ms
mistake. For he could hear Budan-
skis whisper in the darkness:
"My God" breathed the Napoleon
| of the stage. that woman can act
| shes sure tearing it of" acknowl-
edged young Loeser, with his eyes
still on the tragic figure SO cunninsiH
concealing the revolver from her M
tended victim. ,
Budanski leaning forward. by this
time, with his hands on his knees.
| .D' you notice her knees. chief
came from the other. in an answering
whisper See 'em shake under that
skirt
Budanski intent on the stage:
He did not fully understand what
was taking place there. But TINS dla
not greatly disturb him. He was less
| interested. at the moment. in the
| movements themselves than in the
| manner in which those movements
I were carried out. What held him was
the precious air of genuiness about ii
ALL the stark CONTINGENCIES OF the
I world-weary mother SO grimly intent
| on delivering her daughter from evil.
He nursed the suspicion that this hnal
flower of stage characterization was
lost on the audience about him. That
! audience asked only for the easier
thrill and the more obvious effect
But this overlooked Towering of ar
| tistry was the lonely blossom he had
| once searched the world for. and had
but rarely found. He seldom searched
for il among what Loeser called the
| bush leaguers. for he had long cluns
to a pet theory that five continuous
wears in stock or on the road spelled
ruin to any players art. Yet here WAS
a woman who must have spent the
best part of her life under the cor
rupting influences and in the coarsen-
ing air of cheap melo-drama. Here
was tank-towner stumbling into a
bit of work which impressed him as
= startlingly close to his final word in
stagecraft. 1t was a role with rigidly
imposed restrictions. just it was
performance with equally established
limitations. But, as far as il went. ii
was perfect. The woman had lost her
self in her part.
There's greatness in that" be said
aloud.
She was getting it over. He could
see that by the love which softened
her face as she turned to her daughter.
And he could see it again in the steel
cold lines of hate which hardened her
f1accid mouth as she turned delib-
erately back to the youth who stood