“It’s nice to be an idol of the public, but it’s hard on the idol just the same,” sighed Grace, as the door closed after him.  “Shall we see him again to-night?”

“You may stay up and wait for him if you wish,” returned Miss Southard, “but it will be after midnight.  ‘Hamlet’ is a long play.”

“I saw Mr. Southard in ‘Hamlet’ long before I knew him,” remarked Anne.  “My father and I were in New York rehearsing the play in which I afterwards refused to work.  The manager of our company was a friend of Mr. Southard.  One night he asked me if I would like to see the greatest actor in America play ‘Hamlet.’  I said that Everett Southard was the only man I ever wished to see in the role.  I shall never forget how I felt when he handed me a slip of paper.  It was in Mr. Southard ’s handwriting and called for two seats at the theatre where he was playing.  He said he had asked Mr. Southard for the passes purposely for me, because,” Anne flushed slightly, “he insisted that in me lay the making of a great artist, and that I ought to see nothing but the great plays, enacted by great players.”

“How interesting!” exclaimed Grace.  “You never told us anything about your stage days before.  What did you think after you saw ’Hamlet’?”

“I went about in a dream for days afterward,” confessed Anne.  “Then, I began to hate the play we were rehearsing, and finally ended by refusing to stay in the company.  Mother was with my sister in Oakdale, so I went to them.  I felt that there was no chance for me to ever become great.  I had no faith in my own ability, and I was determined not to waste my life as a second or third rate actor.  So I gave up the stage and decided to try to get an education, then teach.  You know the rest of my story.  Now comes the hardest part.  After giving up all idea of the stage, the door that I thought was barred has been opened to me.  The unbelievable has come to pass, and I have in a measure achieved what once seemed unattainable.  Do you think that I ought to bury my one talent when my college days are over and become a teacher, or do you believe that I should put it to good use by becoming an exponent of the highest dramatic art?”

Anne paused, looking almost melancholy in her earnestness.

“My dear child,” said Miss Southard gravely.  “You are straining your mental eyes with trying to look into the future.  Wait until graduation day comes.  By that time you will know what is best for you to do.  As far as your work in the theatre is concerned, I consider that it is far more to your credit to use the talent God has given you to help yourself through college, than to wear yourself out doing tutoring or servants’ work.  There is no stigma attached to my brother’s art, why should there be to yours?”

“Good for you, Miss Southard,” cheered Grace.  “I’ll tell you a secret.  Anne thinks just as you do, only she won’t say so.”

“While you are here, Anne, Everett wishes you to meet Mr. Forest, the manager of the stock company he wrote you about,” continued Miss Southard.