The Easiest Way | Page 7

a career which
would have made a wreck of most women.
Born in Melbourne, of English parents, she came at an early age from
Australia to San Francisco. Her father was connected in a business
capacity with one of the local theatrical companies, and the young girl
naturally drifted to the stage. She had only a mediocre histrionic talent,
but what was perhaps more important, she had uncommon good looks,
and she soon found that beauty was not only a valuable asset, but a sure
lever to success. The critics praised her, not because she acted well, but
because she dressed exquisitely, and pleased the eye. Managers and
authors flattered her. Soon she found, to her amazement, that she was
the success of the hour. Stage Johnnies raved about her; sent her
flowers and invited her to supper; women envied her, and said spiteful
things. Portraits of her in various attitudes appeared in the newspapers
and magazines. In a single night she was carried high on the top wave
of sensational popularity.
The outcome was only logical. Even a virtuous woman could not stand
the strain, and Laura was not virtuous. Of neurotic temperament,
inherently weak, if not actually vicious in character, with the spirit of
the courtesan strong within her from an early age, fond of luxury and
personal adornment she could not legitimately afford, it was not
surprising that she listened to the flatterers and went to the devil
quicker than any woman before her in the whole history of gallantry. At
the end of her first season, her reputation was completely in tatters.
Accepting the situation philosophically, she did not pretend to be better
than she was, but she was clever enough not to cheapen herself by
entangling herself too promiscuously. She had lovers by the score, yet

none could boast of having really won her heart. A woman of
superficial emotions, she was entirely without depth, yet so long as it
suited her purpose, she was able to conceal this shallowness and
profess for the admirer of the moment the greatest affection and
devotion. This is an art and she was an adept at it. Sensually she
quickly attracted men, and it was not long before she became a prime
favorite in the select circles that made such resorts as "The Yellow
Poodle" and "Moreland's" famous, yet in her dissipations she was
always careful not in any way to indulge in excesses which would
jeopardize her physical attractiveness, or for one moment diminish her
keen sense of worldly calculation.
One day, obeying a foolish impulse, she married. The venture was, of
course, a failure. Her selfish vacillating nature was such that she could
not remain true to the poor fool who had given her his name. To
provide the luxuries she incessantly demanded, he embezzled the funds
of the bank where he was employed, and when exposure came, and he
was confronted with a jail sentence, she was horrified to see him kill
himself in front of her. There was a momentary spasm of grief, a tidal
wave of remorse, followed in a few brief weeks by the peculiar
recuperation of spirits, beauty and attractiveness that so marks this type
of woman. Gradually she became hardened and indifferent. She began
to view life as a hunting field, in which the trophy went to the hardest
rider. Deceived herself by men, she finally arrived at that stage of life
known in theatrical circles as "wised up."
Coming to New York, she attracted the attention of a prominent
theatrical manager, and was given a part, in which she happened to
make a hit. This was enough to immediately establish her reputation on
the metropolitan stage. The fact that before reaching the age of
womanhood, she had had more escapades than most women have in
their entire lives, was not generally known in Manhattan, nor was there
a mark upon her face or a single coarse mannerism to betray it. She was
soft voiced, very pretty, very girlish, yet she was no fool. Her success
did not turn her head or blind her to her shortcomings as an actress. She
realized that in order to maintain her position she must have some
influence outside of her own ability, so she laid plans to entangle in her

net a hard-headed, blunt and supposedly soubrette-proof theatre
manager. He fell victim to her charms, and in his cold, stolid way, gave
her what love there was in him. Still not satisfied, she played two ends
against the middle, and finding a young man of wealth and position,
who could give her in his youth an exuberance of joy utterly apart from
the character of the theatrical manager, she allowed him to shower her
with presents. When his money was gone, she cast him aside