elf…sacrificing　action；　or　blossomed　forth　in　this　or　that　nobility　of　character。　　Mildred　was　destined　now　to　suffer　one　of　these　savage　blows　of　disillusionment　about　self　that　thrust　us　down　from　the　exalted　moral　heights　where　we　have　been　preening　into　humble　kinship　with　the　weak　and　frail　human　race。　　She　saw　why　she　had　refused　Stanley；　why　she　had　stopped　‘‘borrowing；''　why　she　had　put　off　going　to　the　theatrical　managers；　why　she　had　delayed　moving　into　quarters　within　her　diminished　and　rapidly　diminishing　means。　　She　had　been　counting　on　Donald　Keith。　　She　had　convinced　herself　that　he　loved　her　even　as　she　loved　him。　　He　would　fling　away　his　cold　reserve；　would　burst　into　raptures　over　her　virtue　and　her　courage；　would　ask　her　to　marry　him。　　Or；　if　he　should　put　off　that；　he　would　at　least　undertake　the　responsibility　of　getting　her　started　in　her　career。　　Well！　　He　had　come；　he　had　shown　that　Stanley　had　told　him　all　or　practically　all；　and　he　had　gone；　without　asking　a　sympathetic　question　or　making　an　encouraging　remark。　　As　indifferent　as　he　seemed。　　Burnt　out；　cold；　heartless。　She　had　leaned　upon　him；　he　had　slipped　away；　leaving　her　to　fall　painfully；　and　ludicrously；　to　the　ground。　She　had　been　boasting　to　herself　that　she　was　strong；　that　she　would　of　her　own　strength　establish　herself　in　independence。　　She　had　not　dreamed　that　she　would　be　called　upon　to　‘‘make　good。''　　She　raved　against　Keith；　against　herself；　against　fate。　　And　above　the　chaos　and　the　wreck　within　her；　round　and　round；　hither　and　yon；　flapped　and　shied　the　black　thought；　‘‘What　SHALL　I　do？''
  When　she　sat　up　and　dried　her　eyes；　she　chanced　to　see　the　paper　Keith　had　left；　with　wonder　at　her　having　forgotten　it　and　with　a　throb　of　hope　she　opened　and　began　to　read　his　small；　difficult　writing：
  A　career　means　self…denial。　　Not　occasional；　intermittent；　but　steady；　constant；　daily；　hourlya　purpose　that　never　relaxes。
  A　career　as　a　singer　means　not　only　the　routine；　the　patient　tedious　work；　the　cutting　out　of　time…wasting　people　and　time…wasting　pleasures　that　are　necessary　to　any　and　all　careers。　　It　means　in　additionfor　such　a　person　sacrifices　far　beyond　a　character　so　undisciplined　and　so　corrupted　by　conventional　life　as　is　yours。　　The　basis　of　a　singing　career　is　health　and　strength。　　You　must　have　great　physical　strength　to　be　able　to　sing　operas。　　You　must　have　perfect　health。
  Diet　and　exercise。　　A　routine　life；　its　routine　rigidly　adhered　to；　day　in　and　day　out；　month　after　month；　year　after　year。　　Small　and　uninteresting　and　monotonous　food；　nothing　to　drink；　and；　of　course；　no　cigarettes。　　Such　is　the　secret　of　a　reliable　voice　for　you　who　have　a　‘‘delicate　throat''which　is　the　silly；　shallow；　and　misleading　way　of　saying　a　delicate　digestion；　for　sore　throat　always　means　indigestion；　never　means　anything　else。　　To　sing；　the　instrument；　the　absolutely　material　machine；　must　be　in　perfect　order。　　The　rest　is　easy。
  Some　singers　can　commit　indiscretions　of　diet　and　of　lack　of　exercise。　　But　not　you；　because　you　lack　this　natural　strength。　　Do　not　be　deceived　and　misled　by　their　example。
  Exercise。　　You　must　make　your　body　strong；　powerful。　You　have　not　the　muscles　by　nature。　　You　must　acquire　them。
  The　following　routine　of　diet　and　exercise　made　one　of　the　great　singers；　and　kept　her　great　for　a　quarter　of　a　century。　If　you　adopt　it；　without　variation；　you　can　make　a　career。　If　you　do　not；　you　need　not　hope　for　anything　but　failure　and　humiliation。　　Within　my　knowledge　sixty…eight　young　men　and　young　women　have　started　in　on　this　system。　　Not　one　had　the　character　to　persist　to　success。　　This　may　suggest　why；　except　two　who　are　at　the　very　top；　all　of　the　great　singers　are　men　and　women　whom　nature　has　made　powerful　of　body　and　of　digestionso　powerful　that　their　indiscretions　only　occasionally　make　them　unreliable。
  There　Mildred　stopped　and　flung　the　paper　aside。　She　did　not　care　even　to　glance　at　the　exercises　pre…　scribed　or　at　the　diet　and　the　routine　of　daily　work。　How　dull　and　uninspired！　　How　grossly　material！　Stomach！　　Chewing！　　Exercising　machines！　　Plodding　dreary　miles　daily；　rain　or　shine！　　What　could　such　things　have　to　do　with　the　free　and　glorious　career　of　an　inspired　singer？　　Keith　was　laughing　at　her　as　he　hastened　away；　abandoning　her　to　her　fate。
  She　examined　herself　in　the　glass　to　make　sure　that　the　ravages　of　her　attack　of　rage　and　grief　and　despair　could　be　effaced　within　a　few　hours；　then　she　wrote　a　noteformal　yet　friendlyto　Stanley　Baird；　informing　him　that　she　would　receive　him　that　evening。　　He　came　while　Cyrilla　and　Mildred　were　having　their　after；　dinner　coffee　and　cigarettes。　　He　was　a　man　who　took　great　pains　with　his　clothes；　and　got　them　where　pains　was　not　in　vain。　　That　evening　he　had　arrayed　himself　with　unusual　care；　and　the　result　was　a　fine；　manly　figure　of　the　well…bred　New…Yorker　type。　　Certainly　Stanley　had　ground　for　his　feeling　that　he　deserved　and　got　liking　for　himself。　　The　three　sat　in　the　library　for　perhaps　half　an　hour；　then　Mrs。　Brindley　rose　to　leave　the　other　two　alone。　　Mildred　urged　her　to　stayMildred　who　had　been　impatient　of　her　presence　when　Stanley　was　announced。　　Urged　her　to　stay　in　such　a　tone　that　Cyrilla　could　not　persist；　but　had　to　sit　down　again。　As　the　three　talked　on　and　on；　Mildred　continued　to　picture　life　with　Stanleycontinued　the　vivid　picturing　she　had　begun　within　ten　minutes　of　Stanley's　entering；　the　picturing　that　had　caused　her　to　insist　on　Cyrilla's　remaining　as　chaperon。　　A　young　girl　can　do　no　such　picturing　as　Mildred　could　not　avoid　doing。　　To　the　young　girl　married　life；　its　tete…a…tetes；　its　intimacies；　its　routine；　are　all　a　blank。　　Any　attempt　she　makes　to　fill　in　details　goes　far　astray。　　But　Mildred；　with　Stanley　there　before　her；　could　see　her　life　as　it　would　be。
  Toward　half…past　ten；　Stanley　said；　shame…faced　and　pleading；　‘‘Mildred；　I　should　like　to　see　you　alone　for　just　a　minute　before　I　go。''
  Mildred　said　to　Cyrilla：　　‘‘No；　don't　move。　　We'll　go　into　the　drawing…room。''
  He　followed　her　there；　and　when　the　sound　of　Mrs。　Brindley's　step　in　the　hall　had　died　away；　he　began：　‘‘I　think　I　understand　you　a　little　now。　　I　shan't　insult　you　by　returning　or　destroying　that　note　or　the　check。　　I　accept　your　decisionunless　you　wish　to　change　it。''　　He　looked　at　her　with　eager　appeal。　　His　heart　was　trembling；　was　sick　with　apprehension；　with　the　sense　of　weakness；　of　danger　and　gloom　ahead。　‘‘Why　shouldn't　I　help　you；　at　least；　Mildred？''　he　urged。
  Whence　the　courage　came　she　knew　not；　but　through　her　choking　throat　she　forced　a　positive；　‘‘No。''
  ‘‘And；''　he　went　on；　‘‘I　meant　what　I　said。　　I　love　you。　　I'm　wretched　without　you。　　I　want　you　to　marry　me；　career　or　no　career。''
  Her　fears　were　clamorous；　but　she　forced　herself　to　say；　‘‘I　can't　change。''
  ‘‘I　hopeda　littlethat　you　sent　me　the　note　to…　day　because　you　　You　didn't？''
  ‘‘No；''　said　Mildred。　　‘‘I　want　us　to　be　friends。　But　you　must　keep　away。''
  He　bent　his　head。　　‘‘Then　I'll　go　'way　off　somewhere。　I　can't　bear　being　here　in　New　York　and　not　seeing　you。　　And　when　I've　been　away　a　year　or　so；　perhaps　I'll　get　control　of　myself　again。''
  Going　away！to　try　to　forget！no　doubt；　to　succeed　in　forgetting！　　Then　this　was　her　last　chance。
  ‘‘Must　I　go；　Mildred？　　Won't　you　relent？''
  ‘‘I　don't　love　youand　I　never　can。''　　She　was　deathly　white　and　trembling。　　She　lifted　her　eyes　to　begin　a　retreat；　for　her　courage　had　quite　oozed　away。　He　was　looking　at　her；　his　face　distorted　with　a　mingling　of　the　passion　of　desire　and　the　passion　of　jealousy。　She　shrank；　caught　at　the　back　of　a　chair　for　support；　felt　suddenly　strong　and　defiant。　　To　be　this　man's　plaything；　to　submit　to　his　moods；　to　his　jealousies；　to　his　capricesto　be　his　to　fumble　and　caress；　his　to　have　the　fury　of　his　passion　wreak　itself　upon　her　with　no　response　from　her　but　only　repulsion　and　loathingand　the　long　dreary　hours　and　days　and　years　alone　with　him；　listening　to　his　commonplaces；　often　so　tedious；　forced　to　try　to　amuse　him　and　to　keep　him　in　a　good　humor　because　he　held　the　purse…　strings
  ‘‘Please　go；''　she　said。
  She　was　still　very　young；　still　had　years　and　years　of　youth　unspent。　　Surely　she　could　find　something　better　than　this。　　Surely　life　must　mean　something　more　than　this。　　At　least　it　was　worth　a　trial。
  He　held　out　his　hand。　　She　gave　him　her　reluctant　and　cold　fingers。　　He　said　something；　what　she　did　not　hear；　for　the　blood　was　roaring　in　her　ears　as　the　room　swam　round。　　He　was　gone；　and　the　next　thing　she　definitely　knew　she　was　at　the　threshold　of　Cyrilla's　room。　　Cyrilla　gave　her　a　tenderly　sympathetic　glance。　She　saw　herself　in　a　mirror　and　knew　why；　her　face　was　gray　and　drawn；　and　her　eyes　lay　dully　deep　within　dark　circles。
  ‘‘I　couldn't　do　it；''　she　said。　　‘‘I　sent　for　him　to　marry　him。　　But　I　couldn't。''
  ‘‘I'm　glad；''　said　Cyrilla。　　‘‘Marriage　without　love　is　a　last　resort。　　And　you're　a　long　way　from　last　resorts。''
  ‘‘You　don't　think　I'm　crazy？''
  ‘‘I　think　you've　won　a　great　victory。''
  ‘‘Victory！''　　And　Mildred　laughed　dolefully。　　‘‘If　this　is　victory；　I　hope　I'll　never　know　defeat。''
  Why　did　Mildred　refuse　Stanley　Baird　and　cut　he