gifted, but unheard of. His brother's success may have cut him, but it never discouraged him. He laboured on, still hopeful. Whilst the popular man was rich in London, the other was hovering on the very edges of poverty. There were times when he had been forced to write to his brother a letter asking for help, but no reply ever came. The poor man's wife had even knocked at the great actor's door; but the response from a servant's lips was that "Mr. Walford was engaged." And so the brothers lived. The one utterly oblivious to the ties of relationship, the other hoping for recognition and reconciliation at last.
Clement Walford's triumph was at hand. Hitherto Shakespeare's characters had with him remained untouched, but paragraphs in the newspapers had just appeared, announcing the fact that it was his intention to appear at an early date as Hamlet. Everybody, from manager to public, was sanguine of a great success; it was the topic of the clubs, the conversation of the critics. Clement Walford himself felt inwardly comfortable and satisfied that failure with him could never be. Success! Success! Success! He harped on that word at night, saw the dream of his life realised as he walked the streets to rehearsal, and heard the enthusiasm of the people, and watched them clamouring there, even in the empty theatre, as scene by scene was gone through at rehearsal on the stage. In all this he was alone with himself. He thought of Clement Walford and of him alone. A brother! He had none. The other had had the same chances—why did he not take them? If a man, even his own flesh and blood, snapped his fingers at his opportunities, was it for him to put them in his grasp?
"He started back."
The night drew near. The day before the performance had arrived and the last rehearsal had been held. Clement Walford returned to his rooms. He stood before the gilded mantelpiece and looked into the glass. He started back! He felt giddy. Again he looked into the mirror with straining eye. He had never seen such a deathly pallor on his face before. He smiled at his foolishness. He attempted to reach a chair, but found his feet would scarcely carry him. Make what effort he might his head was dropping on to his breast, he felt his hands trembling and looked at them to see if it was true.
"Excitement—strain—anxiety—nervous-
