took my hands. To relieve the tension I felt, I turned to the subject of her hair.
"What have you done with it?" I asked. "It is incredibly beautiful. You look eighteen." "I ought to," was her answer. "It cost me $356," and she lifted off a wig, a magnificent set of fabricated tresses.
Once my impulsiveness was not so kindly received. I had seen Mrs. Fiske in "Divorçons" and in "Tess of the D'Urbervilles", two rôles lying at opposite poles and each superbly done. I marveled that any one could achieve such versatility, and happening to meet Harrison Grey Fiske I spoke eloquently to him of his wife. A few days later I chanced to dine in the same restaurant with Mr. and Mrs. Fiske. He stopped by my table and asked me to tell Mrs. Fiske what I had told him.
I begged off. "What does she care about my opinion?" I objected. "Minnie Maddern Fiske has had about all the praise any one can accumulate in one life, and I am only a clown to her."
But I was only too happy to have him wave my deprecations aside and lead me over, and encouraged by him, I unbosomed myself to Mrs. Fiske of my admiration for her art.
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