“When I first saw her play I watched her performance with the closest attention. Her entrance was greeted by a spontaneous outburst of applause. She was just a young girl then, a sweet-faced girl, delicately formed, with a beautiful forehead and fine, intelligent eyes. I was most favorably impressed by her performance, but at the time I had no part for her.... Her opportunity came during the second season of ‘The Music Master.’ Miss Minnie Dupree was to leave the company before the close of the season and I needed some one to take her place. I remembered Miss Starr and, with my friend and stage manager, William Dean, I went to the Garrick to see her in ‘Gallops.’...” In that play “the hero staked his all on a horse race, and the future happiness of the young lovers hung in the balance as the race took place. The heroine and a coaching party were near the track, and Miss Starr stood on the steps of the coach, facing the audience. As the race was being described Miss Starr’s facial expression was so remarkable that she held the audience for several minutes. The various expressions of hope, despair, and joy came and went according to the movements of the horse. The tumult of applause was a tribute not to the play nor to the scene, but to the perfection of Miss Starr’s art. And as an exhibition of pantomime I have seen nothing to surpass it.... I decided that I must have her under my management, and I gave instructions to Mr. Dean to send for her to ask her to sign a contract as soon as possible. Just before the final curtain fell the young actress looked at me, and as our eyes met I fancied I read in them the question: ‘Have I pleased you?’ On the way back to my theatre I was haunted by the pathetic appeal so silently thrown across the footlights, and I determined to do what I could to save one little girl the sleepless night I felt sure was in store for her. ‘Dean,’ I said, ‘don’t wait until morning. Telephone Miss Starr to-night and say I wish to see her to-morrow.’ Mr. Dean advised me to wait. He thought it would be poor judgment on my part to show any eagerness; that Miss Starr would be sure to take advantage of it and raise her salary, but I insisted and he telephoned to her. As I expected, she was in her room, anxious, nervous, and wondering if my visit to the theatre would mean an engagement for her. Later, she told me of her relief and happiness when the telephone call came. It did not save her from a sleepless night after all, but her wakefulness was the result of joyous anticipation rather than anxiety. The appointment was made for 10.30 in the morning. When I arrived at 9, Mr. Dean came to me, smiling broadly. ‘Miss Starr is in my office,’ he said; ‘she has been waiting since 8 o’clock.’ I found her even more attractive