"It has come, mother! My brother's letter! Now all is right!-all is arranged!" "Read it aloud, dear, will you?" replied her mother, in a more animated tone than usual. Stella had already torn open the seal, destroying a portion of the writing. Her eyes glanced rapidly over the page; the paper shook in her hands. Gradually her countenance changed; the mantling blood flew back from her cheeks, the delighted expression died out of her eyes. She read silently on and on to the close, and then the letter fell from her nerveless grasp. "What ails you? What does your brother say?" Stella drew herself up with a look of resolution, almost of defiance, and exclaimed: " Why should it matter? It shall not matter! Nothing now shall turn me from my purpose! Ernest should have known me better!" She gave the letter to her mother, and paced the room with an agitated step; her hands clasped over her head her favorite attitude-in deep meditation. Mrs. Rosenvelt, with great deliberation, as though she had been called upon to make some overpowering effort, turned to her son's letter, and read: "New York, March—, 18—. "SWEETEST SISTER IN THE WORLD "I took a day to reflect upon your letter, and the delay has not altered my first conviction. Stella, you well know that I reverence the profession which I adopted from choice. I toil in it with delight; I glory in the rough road over which, step by step, I may climb to eminence. You also know that I look upon none of the world's baseless prejudices as more false, more vulgar, than that which presupposes that a woman who enters this profession hazards her spotless character, or is even subjected to more than ordinary temptations. If the lode-star of purity dwell in her heart, it attracts to itself only that which is pure. If light thoughts inhabit there, and evil passions convulse her breast, then may the stage prove perilous. What place is safe to such infected blood? સ "Many unfortunates have brought their frailties here, and thus desecrated our temples of art; but I do not believe that through the consequences of the profession one chaste woman ever fell! For you, my sister, whose mind has been precept-strengthened, whose spirit is • In strong proof of chastity well armed,’ I should have no fears of shoals and quicksands. But, to launch you upon this life of turmoil, contention, perpetual struggling!-you, my delicatelynurtured, sensitive, excitable sister!- Heaven forbid! To bid you, who have been environed, from your cradle, with the appliances of ease and opulence, exist upon the capricious breath, the uncertain. suffrages, of the public?-never! To throw you, with a nervous system so highly strung that its chords can be played upon by every chance breeze, into this whirlwind of excitement?-never! I implore you to abandon all thoughts of the stage as a profession. Your talents may qualify you for its adoption; your temperament and education do not. The sense of fitness produced by the former is neutralized by the latter. “To procure you an engagement here would not be possible. The only two positions you could hold are permanently occupied. "And now, dear sister, let me ask, Why should you trouble your unarithmetical brain with calculations about the cost of existence? True, my salary is limited at this moment; but it will provide, in a moderate way, for you and my mother. You may be forced to encounter a few privations; but the future is rich in promise, and they will not be of long dura tion. "You will trust to your brother's judgment? You will heed his warning? Will you not? Say 'Yes,' and that you pardon him for gainsaying the beloved being whose wishes he never before thwarted. My love to our dear mother. Take tender care of her, for your own sake, and for that of "Your devoted brother, "ERNEST ROSENVELT.' 29 As Mrs. Rosenvelt finished the letter, she gazed with a troubled expression at her daughter, who was still pacing the room, her hands tightly clasped, her pale lips compressed, her whole soul evidently in tumult. Stella, what Ernest says is so reasonable, so right!" "Right for him, mother; but wrong for me, should I heed him. Why should I sit with folded hands, growing weary of my own purposeless existence, while he strains every nerve in the exercise of his faculties? To what end has Heaven gifted me with equal talents, if I am not to use them? Ask Mr. Oakland whether or not I possess them! Sensitive, excitable, and unaccustomed to hardships, I may be, as he says; but what I am is not what I may become through fitting discipline!" Pray be calm, Stella! you talk in that wild tone. pose to do?" It distresses me to hear "Not to discuss the matter with my brother my arguments will not move him, nor have his moved me. But, unless you forbid it, mother, and I pray you not to do so, — I must still obey the dictates of this strong impulse within me. I must become an actress ! "How is it possible without your brother's assist*ance ? " “I must make it possible! Only tell me that you do not oppose the attempt." "No—not exactly contenting you. if there is no other way of But-" "Thank you, mother; and let me crush in the bud all buts. Now I must consult Mr. Oakland.” We pass over Stella's interview with her tutor. He took sides with her brother, and refused either to advise or assist her in obtaining an engagement. Stella was disconcerted, not conquered. Her selfreliant nature was not dependent upon extraneous support. That very afternoon, she addressed letters to the managers of three theatres in Boston, earnestly requesting an immediate reply. She also wrote to her brother, and apprised him of her unaltered determination. A week passed. Her letters to managers brought no answers. The reply from her brother showed that he counted upon the difficulty of obtaining an engagement, and looked forward to her discouragement and final abandonment of the project. During this week Stella paid daily visits to Mr. Oakland, and her studies were prosecuted as energetically as though every arrangement for her débût was concluded. Mr. Oakland imagined that her fervor would be damped by neglect on the part of managers, and opposition on that of her brother. He might as well have hoped to see a fire quenched by the adverse blowing of the wind, which only makes it blaze the higher. "Is it not strange that I receive no reply?" she inquired of her tutor. "Managers "Not very," was his dry answer. are not apt to notice letters which may emanate from pretenders of all sorts. They are generally looked upon as the effusions of stage-struck misses, who place an estimate upon their own abilities and attractions which the public is not likely to have the complaisance to endorse." "And what shall I do to convince them that I do not belong to this class?" "I have already said that I would have no agency in this matter, that I would not even advise you." "True, my dear, unconquerable Mentor! I know you are as obstinate as obstinate-as obstinate as I am myself! If managers will not notice my |