Chapter XI: Act V: (A lapse of years.) During the Revolution (8)

the Federal building, New York, and it proceeded, the Hon. George C. Holt, Justice, presiding, in the United States Circuit Court, on August 5. It was established by sworn testimony that Goldknopf’s “play” was submitted by him to the Belasco Play Bureau in May, 1910, and that under date of July 10 Mr. Henry Stillman, the play reader of that bureau, wrote to Goldknopf a letter in which he said:

“Mr. Belasco has gone away for the summer. I sent your play to him,
two or three days after reading it myself. He returned it to me
to-day. While he was interested in reading it, it is not quite
adapted to his present requirements. Will you please call for the
manuscript?”

Mr. William C. De Mille testified that after the production of “The Warrens of Virginia,” in January, 1908, he had suggested to Belasco that if they could “throw up a good heart story against the general background of political ‘graft’ it would make a good play”; that Belasco had been favorably impressed by the suggestion, and that a contract had been entered into between them, in that year, for the writing of such a play,--several drafts of which, bearing different titles (“The Princess of the Wire,” “The Machine,” “1035, Plaza,” etc.), were made before the final one was put into rehearsal. It also was established that Mr. De Mille had read his play to friends,--among them Professor John Erskine, of Columbia University,--in 1908.

Belasco corroborated Mr. De Mille; specified that he had instructed Mr. Stillman “to be kind to aspiring dramatists,” which fact he surmised “might account for the courteous tone of his note to” Goldknopf; testified that he had never seen the manuscript of “Tainted Philanthrophy” prior to July 31, 1912, and had _not even heard of it_ until the suit was started. Then, becoming exasperated, he exclaimed: “I am heartily sick of being sued by nurserymaids, waiters, and barbers every time I bring out a new piece, and I should like very much to give a performance of both these plays before your Honor, in the fall.” To this startling proposal Judge Holt assented, remarking that he could doubtless have the merits of the case better placed before him by witnessing both the plays in representation than by merely reading them,--adding: “But it will be very expensive for you to have the case decided in this way, will it not?” To this inquiry Belasco replied: “Yes, sir; it will cost me about $5,000, but I want to show these unknown authors, once and for all, that they cannot come into the courts and attack every successful production I make without submitting their plays to a comparison that will dispose of their claims very quickly.” On Belasco engaging himself to provide as good a cast for “Tainted Philanthropy” as that with which he was presenting “The Woman,” his proposal was accepted by counsel for Goldknopf.

The comparative performances were given, November 26, at the Belasco Theatre, in the presence of Judge Holt and invited audiences--Belasco desiring that as many journalists and members of his own profession as possible might see for themselves the shameful injustice to which he was subjected by the charge of plagiarism. “The Woman,” which was then filling an engagement at the Grand Opera House, New York, was acted first, beginning at eleven o’clock in the morning. After an interval of an hour “Tainted Philanthropy” was presented, “exactly as written,”--manuscript copies of both plays having been submitted to the court in order to make impossible any dispute on grounds of alleged changes during representation. The Goldknopf fabrication proved to be the veriest farrago of impalliable trash,--and, as it was performed with absolute sincerity by conscientious and capable actors, it became ludicrous in the extreme. On November 29, Judge Holt rendered his decision, finding, necessarily, that there is _no plagiarism_ from “Tainted Philanthropy” in “The Woman.” The chief parts in the former were cast thus:

_Mrs. Elizabeth Dalton_ Teresa Maxwell-Conover. _Grace Dalton_ Helen Freeman. _Theodore Thompson_ Milton Sills. _Jack Bud_ Joseph Kilgour. _John Watts_ Albert Bruning. _Harold Dalton_ Eugene O’Brien. _A Bellevue Doctor_ Harry C. Browne. _Attendants_ { James Grove. { Mark Powers. _Servant_ Judith Snaith.

The following letter on the subject of the Goldknopf accusations gave Belasco much satisfaction:

(_The Society of American Dramatists and Composers to David Belasco._)

“New York, November 27, 1912.

“Dear Mr. Belasco:--

“At a special meeting of the Board of Directors of The Society of
American Dramatists, held immediately after witnessing the
performances of ‘The Woman’ and ‘Tainted Philanthropy,’ a
resolution was passed congratulating and thanking you for your
splendid work in behalf of the dramatists of America in having
called the attention of the public and the press to the efforts of
irresponsible writers and lawyers against authors and producers of
successful plays. We are of the opinion that these ‘strike’ suits,
having no basis or ground for legal action, are a great hardship
to the professional dramatist, and [that] the attention of the Bar
Association should be called to this particular suit as an
aggravated instance of sharp practice and unwarranted attack on the
dramatist’s name and pocket.

“Yours most sincerely, “CHARLES KLEIN, “Secretary.”

In his decision Judge Holt said:

“This suit is to restrain the [alleged] infringement of a
copyright.... Both pieces have been presented by experienced and
skilful actors, with excellent scenery and stage appointments. I
have carefully read the manuscripts of each play and have seen the
representations of them.... In my opinion the proof _wholly fails_
to establish the charge. There is _nothing_ to prove, _or to
suggest_, such a comparison of the two plays--that ‘The Woman’ was
copied from ‘Tainted Philanthropy,’ or that any part of the one was
taken from any part of the other. There is _nothing_ to indicate
that either the words, the ideas, or the plot of the defendant’s
play were suggested by complainant’s play. The two plays, in my
opinion, are wholly dissimilar, and I see _no ground whatever_ for
the charge that one infringed the copyright of the other in any
particular. There should be a decree for the defendants, dismissing
the bill on the merits, with costs.”

Final judgment to that effect was entered March 3, 1913. Belasco’s unique demonstration of the shameful injustice of the Goldknopf charge, however, cost him $5,700. Writing on the subject of this suit and of the performances offered in evidence in it, he has said:

“A lawsuit charging plagiarism is an expensive affair, even though
the accused manager may win. Because of this, a compromise is
frequently effected. There are many unscrupulous people who make a
business of submitting impossible manuscripts in order to bring
suits when a successful play is produced. Others keep long lists of
registered titles, with the same idea in mind. Thousands of dollars
have been paid by American authors and producers to end these
blackmail suits, because they are more cheaply settled out of
court. I have never yielded to this swindle,--and I never will....
My actors played ‘Tainted Philanthropy’ beautifully, and I gave it
a dignified setting. It was a case of ‘Look here, upon this
picture, and on this!’ The audience laughed at ‘Tainted
Philanthropy’ until the theatre echoed.... I think it was the first
instance in the history of American jurisprudence when a judge
adjourned court to go to the theatre for the day, as a matter of
legal duty....

“As a result of this wretched, contemptible suit, and others like
it, I discontinued my Play Bureau, which I had established several
years previously to encourage young American dramatic authors. I
have produced more plays by such authors than any two other
managers, and I wanted to help them further. My Bureau cost me from
$15,000 to $20,000 a year to maintain and never paid me a cent,
though sometimes as many as 100 plays were received through it in a
single day. When I realized that instead of helping young authors
it was merely helping blackmailers to attack me as a plagiarist, I
closed it up.”

A DRAMA OF PSYCHOLOGY.--“THE CASE OF BECKY.”

Belasco produced “The Case of Becky” for the first time, October 30, 1911, at the New National Theatre, Washington, D. C., but it was not until October 1, 1912, that, at the Belasco Theatre, the piece was first made known in the metropolis. It is a psychological “study,” in dramatic form, based on a play by Edward Locke, entitled “After Many Years.” Locke (who entered Belasco’s employment to study stage management and who for a time acted a small part in “The Music Master”) read his play to Belasco,--who, perceiving in it possibilities of novel and striking dramatic effect, at once accepted it, with the understanding that it should be rewritten under his supervision. That stipulation was agreed to and partially fulfilled,--the rewriting being (as in a great many other similar instances) done largely by Belasco. The members of the company which eventually acted in the drama could conclusively testify to this fact, since much of that labor was performed in their presence, at rehearsals.

The name finally bestowed upon this piece is “The Case of Becky.” It is in three acts, requires only two scenic settings, implicates seven persons, and is an ingenious and interesting play on a painful but important subject,--namely, disease or disorder affecting human personality. The chief characters in it are _Dr. Emerson_, an eminent physician who employs hypnotism in psychiatry; _Professor Balzamo_, an itinerant and unscrupulous hypnotist of extraordinary power, and a girl named _Dorothy_. This girl is the victim of a dreadful metempsychosis and is often mysteriously changed from her normal, lovable personality,--in which she is sweet-tempered, affectionate, gentle, and refined,--into a common, mischievous, vindictive hoyden who is designated as _Becky_. _Dr. Emerson_ is laboring to reëstablish her permanently in her normal consciousness by means of hypnotism,--an object which, ultimately, he attains. It is incidentally revealed that many years earlier _Balzamo_, exercising his hypnotic faculty, has compelled _Emerson’s_ wife to leave her husband and travel with him, as a subject for use in brutal and degrading exhibitions of hypnotism. While in that helpless bondage the daughter, _Dorothy_, has been born (her psychic disorder being attributable to the prenatal effect of abuse of her mother) and the miserable woman has died. Chance has installed _Dorothy_ as a patient in the home of her father, who, while ministering to her in affliction, does not know her

Photograph by White. Belasco’s Collection. ]

as his child. _Balzamo_, learning the whereabouts of the girl and desirous of recovering custody of her, in order to utilize her as a subject, visits _Emerson_ and seeks to reëstablish his control over _Dorothy_, begun when she was a little child. The _Doctor_ is led to suspect the originative facts in “the case of _Becky_” which are unknown to him; a conflict of wits and powers ensues between him and _Balzamo_; the latter is, by a trick, subdued and thrown into hypnosis,--in which state he is compelled to confess the truth and is then deprived of his hypnotic power.

Belasco, writing about this singular play--in which he presented Miss Frances Starr for more than two years--has recorded:

“I had begun work on the manuscript of my play for Miss Starr
called ‘Jennie’ when I received a letter from Mr. Locke about
‘After Many Years.’... It was rewritten and renamed ‘The Case of
Becky,’ and in the writing of it we were guided by Dr. Morton
Prince’s ‘The Dissociation of a Personality.’ I felt that in a
hypnotic study of this kind I must not resort to the broad
theatricalism of ‘Trilby’ or ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.’ I was
dealing with a dual personality, and I gave Miss Starr the arduous
task of slipping from innocence into viciousness, in the presence
of an audience, without resorting to any outward trickery. Those
hypnotic scenes were written while the company was rehearsing on
the stage.”

It is interesting to note that the method prescribed for Miss Starr by Belasco, in acting _Dorothy_ and _Becky_, is the same which Henry Irving declared should be employed in acting _Jekyll_ and _Hyde_: Irving bought the English dramatic rights to Stevenson’s story about that dual character, intending to put his theory about impersonating it into practice, but he never did so.--This was the cast of “The Case of Becky”:

_Dr. Emerson_ Albert Bruning. _Dr. Peters_ Harry C. Browne. _John Arnold_ Eugene O’Brien. _Professor Balzamo_ Charles Dalton. _Thomas_ John P. Brawn. _Miss Pettingill_ Mary Lawton. _Dorothy_ (“_Becky_”) Frances Starr.

“I was as much surprised as I was delighted,” said Belasco, “by the popular success of ‘The Case of Becky,’--which was entirely unexpected.” His delight was considerably moderated by the prompt appearance of a couple of discontented playwrighting amateurs, alleging plagiarism. Their names were Amelia Bachman and George L. McKay; they asserted that “The Case of Becky” was taken from a drama which they had written, called “Etelle”; their suit was brought in June, 1912; it was tried, May 13 and 14, 1913, before Judge Julius M. Mayer, in the United States Circuit Court, and it was decided against them, “upon the merits,” on July 9. That decision was appealed, the appeal was argued before the United States Circuit Court of Appeals, April 6, 1914, and decision in favor of Belasco was affirmed. In rendering the original decision Judge Mayer said:

“...The writing of the play by Mr. Locke was the natural outcome
of his interest in themes dealing with hypnotic influence and
multiple personality, and when he was attracted by ‘How One Girl
Lived Four Lives,’ by John Corbin, and [by] Dr. Prince’s book, he
was at work on ‘The Climax,’ a play in which hypnotism or mental
suggestion is the predominant feature.

“I am also satisfied, beyond any doubt, that Mr. Belasco never saw,
read or heard of ‘Etelle’ prior to his acceptance of Locke’s play
and Miss Bachman testified that her play had its foundation in the
idea suggested by John Corbin’s article. That being so, and the
facts found by me being as stated, it follows that complainants
have no case. ‘The Case of Becky’ is, in substantial respects,
different from ‘Etelle.’... It is to be expected that two
playwrights, working independently from a common source, may
develop similarities in their plots, but ‘The Case of Becky’
displays the skill of the experienced playwright in a number of
important particulars and details not found in ‘Etelle.’”

“A GOOD LITTLE DEVIL.”

“_Children of an idle brain,_
_Begot of nothing but vain fantasy._”

“A Good Little Devil” is a fairy fantasy, written in French by Mme. Edmond Rostand (using the pen name of Rosamonde Gerard) and her son Maurice Rostand. It was adapted to the American Stage by Austin Strong, and Belasco produced it, for the first time in this country, December 10, 1912, at the Broad Street Theatre, Philadelphia: January 8, 1913, it was acted in New York, at the Republic Theatre. An immense amount of space, first and last, has been filled in the American newspaper press with sentimental rhapsody about such fabrications as “Peter Pan,” “The Blue Bird,” and “A Good Little Devil.” They are well enough in their way, but they possess nothing of authentic importance, whether literary, poetic, or dramatic, and the success gained by them is due solely to the interest of children and of those who enjoy the amusements of their children: “The sports of childhood satisfy the child.”

In “A Good Little Devil” experiences are depicted of a Scotch orphan, a lad named _Charles MacLance_, who is abused by his aunt, a witch, _Mrs. MacMiche_; comforted and befriended by fairies; loved by a little blind girl named _Juliet_, from whom he is separated; saved from evil beings (_Old Nick, Sr._, and _Old Nick, Jr._); and raised to high social rank, where he forgets the comrades of his boyhood and is about to wed unworthily, when he returns to the home of his aunt. There he is visited by the spirit of his youth; his better nature and his memory of olden times and friends are awakened, and he returns to the arms of his early love--whose sight has been restored by the fairies--declaring his intention to live the life of the affections.

The stage accoutrement in which Belasco presented this fabric of whimsical extravagance was so beautiful, so full of the poetic feeling and allurement conspicuously absent from the piece itself, that it gained and for some time held, and deserved to hold, popular favor: it was played at the Republic Theatre until May 3, 1913,--152 consecutive performances being given.

“A Good Little Devil” was presented with the following cast:

_A Poet_ Ernest Lawford. _Betsy_ Iva Merlin. _Mrs. MacMiche_ William Norris. _Charles MacLance_, a Good Little Devil Ernest Truex. _Old Nick, Sr._ Edward Connelly. _Old Nick, Jr._ Etienne Girardot. _Juliet_ Mary Pickford. _Marian_ Laura Grant. _Queen Mab_ Wilda Bennett. _Viviane_ Edna Griffin. _Morganie_ Lillian Gish. _Titania_ Claire Burke. _Dewbright_ Reggie Wallace. _Thought-From-Afar_ Georgia Mae Fursman. _Jock_ Louis Esposit. _Wally_ Gerard Gardner. _Mac_ Adrian Morgan. _Tam_ Jerome Fernandez. _Sandy_ Edward Dolly. _Allan_ Norman Taurog. _Neil_ Harold Meyer. _Jamie_ Carlton Riggs. _Davie_ David Ross. _Robert_ Roland Wallace. _John_ Charles Castner. _Angus_ Lauren Pullman. _Huggermunk_ Pat Walshe. _Muggerhunk_ Sam Goldstein. _The Solicitor from London_ Dennis Cleugh. _The Doctor from Inverary_ Joseph A. Wilkes. _The Lawyer from Oban_ Robert Vivian. _Rab, the dog_ Arthur Hill.

“THE SECRET.”

“_A secret and villanous contriver._”

“When I produced ‘The Secret,’” writes Belasco, in a biographical note made for me, “I was told by most of the writers for the [news]papers, and by many friends, that the principal character in it, _Gabrielle_, is untrue to life--is _impossible_! Well, all I have to say is:--It is _not_ impossible. She is very exceptional, no doubt, and morbid; but she is _true_ to life and I know it, because I have seen and known and had to deal with exactly such women as _Gabrielle_. They are unpleasant, of course,--but they are real, a part of the Comedy of Human Life that I have aimed to show in the Theatre, and that is the reason I produced ‘The Secret,’ notwithstanding much advice against it. I did not expect financial success.”

When Belasco first heard of “The Secret,”--which, written in French by Henri Bernstein, was originally produced, in March, 1913, at the Théâtre Bouffes-Parisiens, in Paris, with Mme. Simone (Mme. Simone Le Bargy) in the principal part,--Charles Frohman had just relinquished the right of producing it in America. He was so much impressed by the published accounts of the plot and of the performance that he went to Paris (sailing, June 18, 1913, on the Campania, _via_ Fishguard) to see it, and there, after witnessing several representations of the drama, he personally arranged with its author for an American production. “Bernstein,” he writes, “wanted me to have Mme. Simone act _Gabrielle_ in America; but, although she is a fine actress and gave a good performance, she did not, in my opinion, make the part credible. I could see nobody for it but little Miss Starr--and Bernstein waived his wishes and left everything to me. I knew from the first that it was impossible to make money with the piece in America; but I was determined to do it, and I did; and I am content, though it cost me $57,000 in order to show the American public a perfect piece of modern play writing and (as I think) acting.”

The qualities in Bernstein’s “The Secret” which won Belasco’s profound admiration are its technical constructive deftness and its cumulative theatrical effectiveness. While repellent in subject, it is, for stage purposes, extraordinarily well made. The principal character in it is _Gabrielle Jannelot_, a wife, young, accomplished, beautiful, admired, and loved,--apparently a paragon of feminine excellence; in fact, a personification of malignant jealousy and malicious envy. This charming female, blessed with everything that should make her contented, cannot endure the sight of the happiness of others and, while cloaking her wickedness with an assumption of generosity, gentleness, and goodness which for years completely deceives her husband and her

Photograph by the Misses Selby. Author’s Collection.

BELASCO, ABOUT 1914]

friends, she industriously spreads misery all about her. She has contrived to establish bitter estrangement between her devoted husband and a dearly loved and loving sister; and, ascertaining that another sister-in-law, _Henriette Durand_,--who is her closest friend and who has confided in her,--is beloved by a high-principled, jealous young man, _Denis Le Guern_, she schemes to wreck their prospective happiness. The fair _Henriette_ (whose amorous receptivity appears to be comprehensive) has secretly been the mistress of a profligate man of fashion, named _Charlie Ponta-Tulli_, to whom she would have been wedded had not _Gabrielle_ surreptitiously suppressed missives passing between them and thus caused their intrigue to be ended. Aware of _Guern’s_ jealous disposition and strong preference for early vegetables, _Gabrielle_ counsels _Henriette_, when he shall formally propose marriage to her, to make a full confession to him of her relation to _Ponta-Tulli_,--being confident that _Guern_ will then withdraw his proposal. This advice _Henriette_ promises to act upon; but, through fear, she fails to do so, and presently she and _Guern_ are wedded and for a while dwell in bliss. _Gabrielle_, unable to endure the spectacle of their felicity, plans to destroy it by contriving to have all the persons implicated in the action assembled as guests in a country residence, thus bringing the new-wedded couple into close contact with the ardent though alienated _Ponta-Tulli_. There the former lover protests to the distressed _Henriette_ his unchangeable passion, and there they are surprised together by the suspicious _Guern_ in the moment when _Tulli_ is demanding her reasons for having broken with him. A violent wrangle ensues, during which _Gabrielle_, under pretence of attempting reconciliation, neatly manages to make known the former illicit relation of _Tulli_ and _Henriette_ to the latter’s husband. In the passages of bitter recrimination which follow _Tulli_ at last establishes the fact that he had not wilfully abandoned the charming _Henriette_, and then (with remarkable dramatic dexterity) the spiteful treachery of _Gabrielle_ is little by little elicited and “the secret” of that vicious and contemptible little mischief-maker is finally revealed when she is forced to confess to her wretched husband all her years of wicked intrigue and perverse malice. There, dramatically, the play ends,--where so much of human experience ends, in heartbroken misery and despair. A superfluous “tag” is, however, provided in which _Jannelot_ first induces _Guern_ to forgive _Henriette_ and then himself casts the mantle of indulgence over the sins of _Gabrielle_--the fervid _Ponta-Tulli_ being left to recede into the dim perspective of Paris, there to comfort himself as best he may.

The performance of this painful play was, in the main, excellent, Miss Marguerite Leslie acting the errant _Henriette_ with deep and sympathetic feeling, and Miss Starr, as _Gabrielle_, giving perhaps the most completely finished and artistic performance of her career,--because definite and intelligible in ideal, sustained, fluent, precise in expression, and entirely plausible in effect. Mr. Frank Reicher appeared as the excitable and jealous _Guern_ and provided a significant exhibition of the radically artificial, insincere, and finical method so common to the Continental European Stage and so much admired and commended in America for the reason, apparently, that it is European.--“The Secret” was exquisitely set upon the stage, in scenery designed by Ernest Gros, and was presented by Belasco with the following cast:

_Constant Jannelot_ Basil Gill. _Charlie Ponta-Tutti_ Robert Warwick. _Denis Le Guern_ Frank Reicher. _Joseph_ John P. Brawn. _Gabrielle Jannelot_ Frances Starr. _Henriette Durand_ Marguerite Leslie. _Clotilde DeSavageat_ Harriet Otis Dellenbaugh. _Marie_ Beatrice Reinhardt.

“MARIE-ODILE.”

[Of all the productions which he has made, excepting only that of “Madame Butterfly,” Belasco feels most pride in that of Edward Knoblauch’s play entitled “Marie-Odile,”--a work esteemed by him to be one of great artistic excellence and beauty. It was brought out in Washington, January 18, and at the Belasco Theatre, New York, January 26, 1915. Through a series of mischances it happened that neither my father nor I saw that production. Therefore, as critical consideration of it should not be omitted from this Memoir, I here copy, from “The New York Evening Post,” the review of the representation written by my father’s old friend and co-worker John Ranken Towse, now the most experienced and authoritative writer on the drama connected with the New York press.--J. W.]

“The ‘Marie-Odile’ of Edward Knoblauch, which was presented for the
first time in the Belasco Theatre last evening, is in many respects
a remarkable play, which would have been still more noteworthy if
it did not slip now and then below the highest level of its ideal.
For the most part, it is sweet, idyllic romance, with an
undercurrent of satirical symbolism and a tincture of somewhat
perilous philosophy, and it is told with delicacy and imagination,
except for occasional touches of rougher realism, which are
unnecessary and inartistic, and have a harsh and jarring effect in
a rarefied and sentimental atmosphere. The object of them--one of
contrast--is obvious and legitimate, but it might have been
attained by less violent methods.

“On the surface, at first, the tale is one for the nursery, but
beneath is deep and earnest purpose, the enforcement of the
distinction between the essential goodness of loving and unselfish
innocence, delighting in service, and the hard and cruel Pharisaism
of a narrow, egoistic bigotry. Presently the parable illustrates
the savagery which perfect innocence may experience at the hands of
arrogant and sophisticated virtue. But a brief outline will most
clearly show the motive of Mr. Knoblauch’s story. The scene is laid
in a convent in France, during the Franco-German conflict of 1870.
_Marie-Odile_, the embodiment of childish innocence, is virtually
the servant of the sisterhood. As an infant she had been found on
the door-step. Now she is serving her novitiate and doing the
domestic work, until ready for the final vows. She is a bright,
affectionate, devout, and indefatigable little creature, who has
never been outside the convent walls, has never seen a man--except
an old priest and a decrepit, half-witted gardener--and is
absolutely ignorant of the world and the ways of life. She has been
taught that babies are the rewards which kindly angels bring from
heaven to deserving mothers. By the _Mother Superior_, a martinet
and zealot, she is persistently bullied. Even her tenderness for
her pet pigeon is accounted a mortal sin, and, by way of spiritual
discipline, she is ordered to tell the gardener to kill it for the
_Mother Superior’s_ table. At this she revolts. Sooner than obey
she hides herself, and is not to be found when the terrible news
arrives that the French have been hopelessly beaten, and that the
_Uhlans_ are at the convent door. The priests and the nuns flee and
_Marie-Odile_ and the old gardener are left behind alone. Soon the
first German, a handsome young corporal, arrives, and
_Marie-Odile_, who has never seen a male figure of such splendor
before, concludes that he is Saint Michael--the convent’s patron
saint--and kneels to him in rapturous worship. Other soldiers come
in, led by a rough sergeant, and are disposed to take liberties,
but are promptly disarmed by her fearlessness, her simplicity, and
her transparent innocence. They even affect to respect the laws of
the _Mother Superior_, which she quotes as paramount. She feeds
them, presides at their table, and holds them in subjection--all
but one or two--by magic of the ignorance that knows no wrong. The
corporal champions her against the advances of his more brutal
fellows, and to him she appeals with the confidence of a child.
When the troops depart the sergeant, learning that the corporal has
never had a love affair of any kind, purposely leaves him behind,
bidding him take advantage of his manifest opportunity.

The _Corporal_, who is not vicious, is so moved by _Marie-Odile’s_
unsuspecting confidence that he resolves not to molest her, but she
begs him so earnestly to remain, and so willingly lets him kiss
her, that he yields to temptation, and the curtain falls upon the
second act as she reposes happily in his arms. The scene is natural
and charming, and the sentiment that of pure, youthful romance. In
the third and last act, after the lapse of a year, the convent has
another tenant. _Marie-Odile_ and the old gardener are no longer
alone. There is an infant, which _Marie-Odile_ accounts for as a
miraculous gift from Heaven. She is conscious of no ill, has
followed unhesitatingly the promptings of nature, and rejoices in
her new possession with boundless exultation. But now the war is
over and the nuns are returning. _Sister Louise_, the
personification of true Christian charity, is the first to enter,
and sorely afflicted is she as she listens to _Marie-Odile’s_
grateful pæans, and thinks of what the _Mother Superior_ will say.
That austere judge is inflexible from the first. Straightway she
orders the amazed but unrepentant young mother from the sacred
precincts, in spite of the protests of _Sister Louise_, who
declares that the true responsibility lay with the sisterhood which
had failed to instruct or guard innocence.

“Simple as the play is in external form, it deals with more than
one difficult and complex problem. Concerning the particular
instance of the heroine--who becomes in Mr. Knoblauch’s sketch a
fresh and delightful ideal of ignorant and untainted
innocence--there need be no question. Like _Haidée_, she flew to
her love like a young bird. She was guiltless, and her story--with
the exceptions hinted at--is told very prettily, with an unaffected
naturalism which is rare, and with many charming little poetic
interludes. Her love episode is handled with notable tact and
fancy, and is an eloquent plea for the sanctity of nature’s own
laws. But obviously it is less ingenuous than _Marie-Odile_ in its
wilful disregard of certain awkward and wholly incontrovertible
facts. The Pharisaism of the _Mother Superior_ is, of course,
utterly indefensible upon any count, but may be set down partly to
the credit of poetic license. Unfortunately, the innocence of love
is not, in the present state of this imperfect world, sufficient to
exempt it from the material penalties of unrestricted freedom. And
the instruction of ignorance is not altogether so simple a matter
as some of our younger social philosophers seem to suppose.

“But in ‘Marie-Odile’ Mr. Knoblauch has produced a work of superior
calibre, and has acquitted himself of a difficult task with
ingenuity and tact. His first act is too much overladen with
(dramatically) trifling details, but the piece acquires strength
and impetus as it proceeds. _Marie-Odile_ is one of the most
credible examples of complete unsophistication that has been put
upon the stage for a long time, and she is admirably impersonated
by Miss Frances Starr. The part does not, it is true, present many
difficulties, but most actresses would have betrayed in it a
self-consciousness of the superfine quality of the innocence which
they were portraying, and this Miss Starr did not do. She did
really suggest the purity of a completely isolated maidenhood. Her
completely natural maternal exultation in the possession of a baby
was really excellent acting. Harriet Otis Dellenbaugh showed warm
womanly feeling as the kindly _Sister Louise_, Jerome Patrick did
very well as the _Corporal_, and Frank Reicher furnished a clever
character bit as the senile old gardener. The setting in the
convent was perfect--a notable specimen of Mr. Belasco’s
handiwork.”

This was the cast of “Marie-Odile”:

_Mother Saint Dominic_, Mother Superior of the Convent Marie Wainwright. _Sister Clotilde_ Ada C. Nevil. _Sister Louise_ Harriet Otis Dellenbaugh. _Sister Monica_ Alice Martin. _Sister Anatole_ Sally Williams. _Sister Angela_ Mildred Dean. _Sister Cecilia_ Amy Fitzpatrick. _Sister Joseph_ Mary Green. _Sister Elizabeth_ Nona Murray. _Sister Catherine_ Alice Carroll. _Marie-Odile_, a novice Frances Starr.

Photograph by White. Belasco’s Collection.

FRANCES STARR AS _MARIE ODILE_]

_Father Fisher_ Edward Donnelly. _Peter_ Frank Reicher. _Sergeant Otto Beck_ } { Henry Vogel. _Corp. Philip Meissner_ } Uhlans { Jerome Patrick. _Steinhauser_ } in a { Paul Stanley. _Hartmann_ } Prussian { Alphonse Ethier. _Horn_ } Regiment. { Edward Waldmann. _Mittendorf_ } { Charles W. Kaufman. _Schramm_ } { Robert Robson. { Margaret Cadman. { Edith King. _Sisters_ { Dorothy Turner. { Edythe Maynard. { Madeleine Marshall. { Gertrude Wagner. { Hugo Schmedes. _Soldiers_ { August Nelson. { Albert Mack.

RECONCILIATION WITH CHARLES FROHMAN--AND JOINT PRESENTMENT OF “A CELEBRATED CASE.”

The antagonism of Belasco and the Theatrical Syndicate, which he fought for so many years, naturally led to friction between him and Charles Frohman,--a person of extraordinary self-conceit, who loved to have applied to himself the ridiculous designation of “the Napoleon of the Theatre”; who aspired to be thought the greatest of theatrical managers, and who, necessarily, felt himself rebuked under the superior talents of the man with whom, in early years, he had been so closely associated and who had done so much to make his career possible. In 1903 he had a personal quarrel with Belasco (about what I do not know), and for twelve years thereafter they were more or less actively at enmity and treated each other as strangers. Frohman, however, appears to have possessed engaging qualities, which endeared him to many of those who knew him well. Belasco, for example, has assured me that through all the time of their estrangement he “cherished a great affection for ‘Charlie,’” and that he is “grateful beyond words that our misunderstanding was cleared up and our friendship renewed before he sailed away to his death.” Frohman left New York on board the steamship Lusitania, May 1, 1915, and he lost his life, May 7, when, to the eternal infamy of the German nation, that vessel was sunk off Old Head of Kinsale, Ireland. “I was alone in my studio, one evening early in 1915,” Belasco has told me, “and by chance I noticed a newspaper paragraph about Charles Frohman being ill, at the Hotel Knickerbocker. It set me thinking about our first meeting so long ago in San Francisco, and of all that followed; of our first venture in Chicago and of all the years when we worked together and had rooms side by side, when ‘Charlie’ used to consult me about everything and I used to read my ‘May Blossom’ to him. As I sat there thinking it all over I realized that the shadows were beginning to slant toward the east--and suddenly I decided that if ‘Charlie’ should die without our being reconciled it should not be my fault. I started to write a little note to him but got no further than ‘Dear Charlie’ when my telephone-bell rang. The caller was Roeder--and the first thing he said was: ‘I’ve just had a telephone message from Charles Frohman. He wants to see you’! We met that night, in his rooms, and forgot that we ever had a disagreement.”

Soon after that reconciliation Belasco held a little festival in honor of Frohman, in his theatre-studio, and there, at first in jest, it was proposed that they should make a joint revival of some notably successful play of earlier days. This proposal led to a serious discussion and eventually to an agreement whereby the two managers covenanted to make a joint production every season during a term of years. At Frohman’s request Belasco agreed to choose the first play to be presented by them, and his election fell upon “A Celebrated Case.”

That play (first produced in America at the Union Square Theatre, New York, January 23, 1878) is a melodrama in six acts, translated, in rough English, from the French of Adolphe D’Ennery (1811-1899) and Eugène Cormon (18--- 18--). It presents the image of a murder which was done in France, on the eve of the Battle of Fontenoy (May 11, 1745), and for which an innocent man was made to suffer years of cruel punishment, till, at last, in a mysterious and circuitous way, it was brought home to its perpetrator. The circumstances of the crime are peculiarly hideous and the circumstances of the belated retribution are peculiarly complex. The innocent man, _Jean Renaud_, is condemned, for the murder of his wife, on the testimony of their child. _Lazare_, the guilty man (as in many other fictions on this antiquated pattern), assumes the identity of another person connected with the crime, the _Count de Mornay_, and, after various escapes from exposure and much suspense, he is baffled in his maintenance of the assumed identity and is brought to justice. The parting of the condemned father with his innocent, prattling child, who has unconsciously convicted him of murder, and their meeting in after years, he a wretched galley-slave and she a young woman, afford a poignantly affecting contrast. Adroit use, likewise, is made of a certain singular jewel as the instrument for discovery of the actual criminal. Although there are no remarkable characters in the piece and nothing extraordinary in its dialogue, it possesses substantial dramatic merit in its occasional scenes of acute agony, relieved by the violent action of natures taxed beyond endurance. Its sentiment, moreover,--that of filial affection,--is pure; and in its complication of the lives and the emotional troubles of two young girls it deals skilfully and tenderly with difficult and lovely themes. Its choice by Belasco (who had several times directed performances of it in the days of his youth and in whom predilection for tense situation and sharp effect is dominant) was a natural one. Affiliated with Frohman, he presented it in a slightly revised form--some of its dialogue being a little “modernized”--but substantially unaltered and in picturesque and rich dress. It was well acted and kindly received. The first performance of this Belasco-Frohman revival occurred at the Hollis Street Theatre, Boston, March 28, 1915, and, April 7, they brought it out at the Empire Theatre, New York. This was the cast:

_Count d’Aubeterre_ Frederic de Belleville. _Lazare_ } Robert Warwick. _Count de Mornay_ } _Chanoinesse_ Elita Proctor Otis. _Viscount Raoul de Mornay_ Eugene O’Brien. _Jean Renaud_ Otis Skinner. _Dennis O’Rourke_ N. C. Goodwin. _Corporal_ Walter F. Scott. _Seneschal_ George Allison. _Captain_ John Warnick. _Duchess d’Aubeterre_ Minna Gale Haynes. _Little Adrienne_ Mimi Yvonne. _Martha_ Beverly Sitgreaves. _Julia_ Ruth Farnum. _Madeleine Renaud_ Helen Ware. _Adrienne Renaud_ Ann Murdock. _Annette_ Esther Cornell. _Valentine de Mornay_ Florence Reed. _Julie_ Marie Sasse.

LENORE ULRIC.--AND “THE HEART OF WETONA.”

Many players of talent and present eminence have been fostered and developed under Belasco’s management--that being, indeed, one of his most important services to our Stage. He is an inveterate theatre-goer,--attending performances everywhere and, sooner or later, seeing practically everything and everybody visible on the American Stage. This customary vigilant observance of all activity within his profession he facetiously describes as “my fishing trips,” and, conversing with me on the subject, he has remarked: “It is often a long time between ‘bites,’ but one of the delights of the sport is that you never know, as the curtain goes up, how soon you may ‘hook a big one.’ Among the biggest I have ever landed is, I believe, little Miss Ulric: I think she will grow bigger every season she is before the public.”

Miss Lenore Ulric, to whom Belasco thus referred, was born at New Ulm, Minnesota, July 21, 189--. In childhood she knew the meaning of hardship, and she has studied and learned in the often harsh school of experience. Whether or not she will fulfil Belasco’s high expectation time alone can tell, but one thing about her is certain: she belongs to a class of which there is urgent need on our Stage,--she is “a born actress.” She resorted to the dramatic calling not through mere vanity, the impulse of personal exhibition, or the acquisitive hope of profit,--motives which actuate a majority of the young women who go upon the Stage,--but because her natural vocation is acting. As far as known, no precedent member of her family was ever associated with the Theatre, and for some time her choice of that calling met with severe paternal disapproval. Her novitiate was served in various stock companies in Milwaukee, Grand Rapids, Chicago, and Syracuse. In August, 1913, Miss Ulric appeared as _Luana_, in “The Bird of Paradise,” under the management of Mr. Oliver Morosco: she acted that part for two seasons. In 1914, while playing at the Standard Theatre, New York, she wrote to Belasco asking him to witness her performance of that part and expressing the hope that after having done so he might find a place for her in some one of his companies. “I have long made it a rule,” writes Belasco, “to comply with such requests from young players whenever it is possible for me to do so. I well remember how long _I_ pleaded with dear John McCullough for a hearing before I got it and I know the discouragement of ‘hope deferred.’ Besides--nobody can make a fairer proposition than ‘watch my work and, if you think it is good, engage me.’ But I was extremely busy when I received Miss Ulric’s request and couldn’t give the time,--so I sent my secretary, Mr. Curry. His report was so favorable that I felt I must see her at work--so, since I could not go to her, I had Mr. Roeder bring her to me by making her a tentative offer of an engagement to act in George Scarborough’s play of ‘The Girl.’ She accepted, of course (she has told me, since, that she had set her heart on getting with me and would have accepted almost any offer to do so), and I had my stage manager call a rehearsal. I was not supposed to attend,--but I slipped into the gallery unknown to anybody (a little trick I have) and watched her carefully. After twenty minutes I knew I was watching a very talented and unusual young woman--one who with opportunity and proper training might do great things. Before the rehearsal was over I had told Roeder to close the arrangement with her to play the leading part in ‘The Girl,’ which, afterward, became ‘The Heart of Wetona.’”

In its original form the scene of that play was “A Middle Western Town” (Missouri), its five characters were Caucasian, and its story was one of erring love, deceit, shame, and rescue set in a commonplace rural environment,--a main purpose of its author being, presumably, to exhibit a group of conventional persons impelled by violent passion yet restrained by religious feeling. In that form it received a trial presentment, June 28, 1915, at Atlantic City, New Jersey, with this cast:

_In the Prologue._

_David Greer_ William H. Thompson. _Elizabeth Greer_ Lenore Ulric.

_In the Play._

_Jonathan Wells, D.D_ Arthur Lewis. _Anthony Wells_ Lowell Sherman. _The Rev. Frederick Forbes_ John Miltern. _Elizabeth Greer_ Lenore Ulric. _David Greer_ William H. Thompson.

“Although its material was undeniably good, I had felt strong doubts about the piece, from the first, but I gave it a ‘try-out,’ anyway,” said Belasco. “Then I saw that it would not do as it stood and took it off, and, at my suggestion and under my supervision, with such assistance as I could give, Mr. Scarborough rewrote ‘The Girl’ and eventually we had a real success with it.”

The rewritten play was first acted, January 20, 1916, at Stamford, Connecticut, under the title of “Oklahoma”; soon after it was called “The Heart of Wetona,” and under that name it was brought forth, February 29, at the Lyceum Theatre, New York, where it held the stage until May 20.

In its definitive form the scene of “The Heart of Wetona” is an Indian Reservation, in the torrid State of Oklahoma; several of its persons are aborigines of the Comanche tribe, and,--though its action and incidents are sometimes arbitrarily directed,--it is a remarkably good melodrama of a long-familiar kind. Belasco’s purpose in directing the revision was to provide an effective play for the exploitation of the young actress whose talents had so favorably impressed him, and that purpose was well accomplished,--the interest centring continuously in the principal female part, a girl named _Wetona_, the child of a Comanche chieftain and a white mother, deceased. This girl, who has been seduced under a lying promise of marriage by _Anthony Wells_, a visitor to the Indian Reservation, is chosen as a sort of vestal virgin in ceremonial rites of the Comanches, and thereupon, in the Tribal House, before her father and his assembled warriors, though concealing her lover’s identity, she confesses her transgression. The girl is then subjected to a harrowing inquisition by the Indians, who desire to find and slay her lover. At last, unable to endure longer, she agrees to reveal his name on condition that she first be permitted to warn him of his danger. She seeks him in the home of his friend _John Hardin_, the Indian Agent on the Reservation (who secretly loves the girl and desires to make her his wife), and is followed by her father, _Chief Quannah_, who, finding her in conference with _Hardin_, furiously accuses him of being the wronger of his daughter and demands that he instantly marry her--as an alternative to being instantly slain with her. To save the girl, himself, and her to him unknown lover, _Hardin_ agrees to do so, privately assuring _Wetona_ that the marriage shall be one in name but not in fact, and, a clergyman being conveniently accessible, the wedding is at once performed. Afterward _Wetona_, collapsing, calls upon the name of her _Anthony_--thus discovering to her husband her resolutely guarded secret. Later, _Wells_, ensconced in the home of _Hardin_ and supposing himself unsuspected and secure, seeks to resume his relation with _Wetona_, but is repulsed by her until a divorce (to which _Hardin_ will connive) shall have been obtained and he shall have fulfilled his promise of marriage. Then the perfidy of _Wells_ is revealed to _Wetona_ and she revolts from him; _Quannah_ discovers the truth; _Hardin_, though righteously wrathful against _Wells_, tries to save him from the vengeance of the Indians (providing him with weapons and a steed) but fails,--that rascal being shot and killed as he attempts to ride away in the night,--and the injured, forlorn Indian girl humbly and thankfully confesses to _Hardin_ her contrition, her gratitude for his protective generosity, the affection with which he has inspired her, and her glad willingness to remain with him as his wife.

The ethics of all this will hardly bear scrutiny--but the dramatic effect of it in representation was undeniable; and, perhaps, where virtue is, presumably, intended it is to consider too curiously to consider further. Miss Ulric presented with vigor, skill, simplicity, sustained continuity of identity, and remarkable force a true, pathetic, and alluring ideal of unsophisticated girlhood, confiding feminine ardor and passionate distress, and she gained an auspicious success.--The cast of “The Heart of Wetona,” as acted at the Lyceum under the management of Belasco and a corporation called “Charles Frohman, Inc.,” is appended:

Photograph by Abbe. Belasco’s Collection.

LENORE ULRIC AS _WETONNA_, IN “THE HEART OF WETONNA”]

_Quannah_, Chief of the Comanches William Courtleigh. _Wetona_ Lenore Ulric. _John Hardin_ John Miltern. _David Wells_ Edward L. Snader. _Anthony Wells_ Lowell Sherman. _Mary Greer_ Isabel O’Madigan. _Comanche Jack_ Curtis Cooksey. _Nauma_ Ethel Benton. _Nipo_ H. G. Carleton. _Pasequa_ Langdon West. _Eagle_ Chief Deer.

VARIOUS PRODUCTIONS--MISCELLANEOUS RECORD: “WHAT’S WRONG.”--“THE VANISHING BRIDE.”--“THE LOVE THOUGHT.”--“ALIAS.”

During the last five years [that is, the five years preceding April, 1917] Belasco has made productions of various plays which do not require extended consideration, though they must be specified and briefly described in this Memoir in order to complete the record of his labors. Those plays are “The Governor’s Lady,” “Years of Discretion,” “The Temperamental Journey,” “What’s Wrong,” “The Man Inside,” “The Vanishing Bride,” “The Phantom Rival,” “The Boomerang,” “The Love Thought,” “Seven Chances,” “Alias,” “The Little Lady in Blue,” and “The Very Minute.”

Of these, “What’s Wrong,” by Frederick Ballard; “The Love Thought,” by Henry Irving Dodge; “The Vanishing Bride,” adapted by Sydney Rosenfeld from a German original called “Tantalus,” by Leo Kastner and Ralph Tesmar; and “Alias” (based on a story by John A. Moroso and originally called “The Treadmill”), by Willard Mack, are plays to which Belasco gave trial productions, and all of which, except “The Vanishing Bride,” he purposes to present in New York hereafter, when they have been smoothed and polished and are deemed by him to be ready for metropolitan presentment. “What’s Wrong” was brought out at the National Theatre, Washington, D. C., May 4, 1914; “The Vanishing Bride” at Long Branch, New Jersey, July 27, the same year; “The Love Thought,” at the Parsons Theatre, Hartford, Connecticut, April 26, 1915; and “Alias,” first under its original title, at the Apollo Theatre, Atlantic City, May 8, 1916, then, February 5, 1917, at the Belasco Theatre, Washington. “The Vanishing Bride” would have been produced in New York soon after its trial had not Belasco found Mr. Rosenfeld (who is an industrious and moderately clever writer but flatulent with self-conceit) excessively fractious and troublesome to deal with. “I had spent $18,000 on that play,” Belasco has told me, “and I know it could be made a success, because it has excellent material in it. But life is too short for disputes with Mr. Sydney Rosenfeld. I am always glad to do my best for the men and women, writers or actors, who work with me, but I am not willing to wrangle and fight with them for the privilege of doing so! Therefore, I preferred to pocket my loss and let the piece go--with my blessing and the hope that its adapter will find a more satisfactory producer.”

The casts of the trial productions enumerated are here appended:

CAST OF “WHAT’S WRONG.”

_George H. Smith_ Frederick Burton. _Perry Dodge_ Richie Ling. _Eddie_ William Dixon. _Woodrow_ Percy Helton. _Heavy_ } { Henry Weaver. _Bill_ } Farm hands { J. W. Kennedy. _Red_ } { Russell Simpson. _Jennie Brown_ Janet Beecher. _Mrs. Perry Dodge_ Maidel Turner. _Mrs. Lee-Hugh_, S.P.A.I.H. Louise Sylvester. _Phoebe Snow_ Dorothy Walters. _Flossie_ Susanne Willa. _Agnes_ Grace Vernon. _Tillie_ Jane Shore.

CAST OF “THE VANISHING BRIDE.”

_Zachary Hollis_ Thomas A. Wise. _Dick Hollis_ Howard Estabrook. _Baron Von Berndorff_ Gustav Von Seyffertitz. _Eric Von Berndorff_ Frank Gillmore. _Phelim O’Hara_ Denman Maley. _An Upholsterer_ Conrad Cantzen. _A Postman_ Lee Metford. _Letty Von Berndorff_ Janet Beecher. _Eva_, the bride Ottola Nesmith. _Eileen O’Hara_ Angela Keir. _Mrs. Miller_ Margaret Seddon. _Anna_ Edith Houston.

CAST OF “THE LOVE THOUGHT.”

_Stephen Bennett_ Ramsey Wallace. _Howard Johnson_ Lowell Sherman. _Squire Miley_ George Gaston. _Jake Means_ Hardee Kirkland. _Dupley Reed_ Henry Forsman. _George Culligan_ Daniel Moyles. _Lew Bates_ George Berry. _Billy_ Edwin Dupont, Jr. _Anne Gardner_ Janet Beecher. _Mary Miley_ Isabel O’Madigan. _Frances Avery_ Katherine Proctor. _Nellie Avery_ Antoinette Walker. _Mrs. Means_ Harriet Ross. _Mrs. Bates_ Lois Frances Clark. _Mrs. Culligan_ Elizabeth Hunt.

CAST OF “THE TREADMILL”--“ALIAS.”

_Herman Strauss_, “Old Dutch” Willard Mack. _Warden John Healey_ Edwin Mordant. _“Biff” Schulte_ Jay Wilson. _Dan Davis_ E. J. Mack. _Toby_ Jack Jevne. _Mrs. John Weldon_ Margaret Moreland. _Mrs. Franklyn Joyce_ Carmilla Crume. _Amanda Joyce_ Constance Molineaux. _Titheradge Joyce_ Francis Joyner. _Jacob Fralinger_ Arthur Donaldson. _John Weldon_ William Boyd. _Oscar Spiegel_ Gus Weinberg. _Mrs. Mary Gilligan_ Annie Mack Berlein. _Dick_ Tammany Young. _Harry_ Cornish Beck. _Greta_ Ruth Collins. _Bertha_ Jean Temple. _Andrews_ Tex Charwate.

“THE GOVERNOR’S LADY.”

Belasco produced “The Governor’s Lady” for the first time, May 1, 1912, at the Broad Street Theatre, Philadelphia, and, September 9, that year, at the Republic, he brought it out in New York. It is a drama of domestic dissension and tribulation sequent on the surrender to selfishness and vanity of a wilful man who is indicated as being, notwithstanding his faults and errors, innately kind and good. The name of him is _Daniel S. Slade_. He has been a miner and poor. Having acquired riches he has become ambitious and aspires to social and political eminence; would, in fact, be Governor of the State of Colorado, wherein he dwells. _Mrs. Slade_, his wife, is an exemplary but homely and home-keeping person and she cannot adapt herself to the ways of the rich and fashionable society in which _Slade_ desires to be a leader. She is, at first, disposed to consider their newborn incompatibility and her husband’s dissatisfaction as fanciful. But when _Slade_ intimates that he regards her as a hindrance to his advancement and signifies that there had better be a formal separation, or a divorce, between them she is deeply wounded. She agrees, however, to separate from him, while indignantly repelling his suggestion that he obtain a divorce. Later she ascertains that he has chosen as her successor a young, beautiful, and unscrupulous woman who he believes will be useful in furthering his ambitions and who is willing to abandon the youth she loves in order to make a better match. _Mrs. Slade_ then rounds on her discontented spouse and, being thrice armed in the justice of her quarrel, notwithstanding his wealth and influence, brings upon him and his prospective consort public odium, confronts and defeats him in court, and, bringing a counter suit, is granted a divorce from him. She leaves Denver and goes to New York,--where, two years later, _Slade_, who has meantime become Governor of Colorado, finds her in one of Child’s restaurants. The _Governor_ makes known to her that he is perceptive of the impropriety of his course; that in spite of his conduct he has always loved the wife who has divorced him, and proposes that they remarry. This _Mrs. Slade_ declines to do, not, however, concealing the fact that she still cherishes affection for _Slade_, and the play ends with his picking her up and carrying her off in his arms, in quest of a parson, in order to establish her as the _Governor’s Lady_.