she was a beginner, but we had the same voice, speech and modern dancing classes. She did quite well, but seemed a little disconcorted when the voice teacher tried to compliment her by telling her that her voice was much deeper and more low itched than the average woman's, and seemed almost unhappy when the dance teacher said she turned out her hands like a man when she walked.

Miss Davies saw me smiling one evening as I saw Carol rehearse in a three-acter she'd gotten into and smiled too, knowing what I was thinking. She was supposed to be a meek little maidservant and was trying hard to cringe before her mistress but her usual stubbornly self-reliant strength of character made it hard for her, and she suggested a lion trying to cringe before a mouse.

me.

"A very nice girl," commented Miss Davies, turning to "Unfortunately, she's unusually hard to direct bocause of an even greater fear than usual of showing her emotions in public. Her problem is ." She paused

and turning back to watch them on stage continued, more to herself than to me, "I don't want to do it but I have no other choice. I'm not giving her anything of any real value and unless she gets rid of this fear, I never will."

A few days later I went to see Miss Davies about something. I was about to knock on her office door, when I realized she was talking to some one who was replying at the same time.

"But, my dear," she was saying, "there's no shame in It's just that your adjustment is all wrong and your fear is getting in the way of your acting.'

it.

"I'm not afraid, and I'm not bothered by it any longer, and while I was once that way I'm not any longer, "the other person was simultaneously answering. I realized it was Carol's voice. It was obviously none of my business, so I loft.

Carol disappeared from sight after that. She wasn't at school any more, she wasn't at her apartment, and no one seemed to know where she'd gone. Her landlady