THE ACTRESS IN HIGH LIFE;

AN EPISODE IN WINTER QUARTERS.




CHAPTER I.


I was a traveler, then, upon the moor,
I saw the hare that raced about with joy,
I heard the woods and distant waters roar,
Or heard them not, as happy as a boy;
The pleasant season did my heart employ.
My old remembrances went from me wholly,
And all the ways of men so vain and melancholy.

Wordsworth.


Gentle Reader: Wherever you may be, in bodily presence, when you cast
your eyes on this page, let it for a few hours transport your
complying spirit to a remote region and a bygone day. We may alter
names without injury to our story; but every real character, or event,
has its own time, place, and accidents; to tear it from them is like
transplanting a tree from its native spot; it must be trimmed and
pruned, and robbed of its due proportions and its natural grace.