WHEN Maude was still very young and unknown, her mother sensed her unusual power of concentration, which forbade any dividing of her attention. She was already absorbed in the theatre. Mrs. Adams made a shrewd guess about which many mothers of daughters have been wrong. But she was right when she told a nice boy who was hanging around, that Maude was so fond of her work she would never marry.
Maude's public has never understood this as her mother did. Her audiences were obliged to accept the fact that off the stage she led a secluded life, for she was never among the guests at luncheons or tea parties, or in cocktail lounges, and even when a matinee did not conflict with her own, she was not seen in a box at the theatre, opera, or horse show. But that anyone so charming never married or never had any serious romances -- surely that was impossible.
It happens to be the truth. Plenty of men have wished it was not.
To tell what a person did not do is a negative way to write a biography, but when these omissions are things generally included in daily life, it becomes necessary. And back in 1907, Ada Patterson in her book about Maude Adams, did just this:
She has never married, or rather she has been much married ever since she can remember to her profession. . . . Her thoughts of romance, her close friends say, have always taken the direction of effective stage scenes. . . . For society she cares not at all. Her