ad discovered this summer. She thought she would be made much
of, as his protegee. Instead of which she was set upon a kitchen chair,
like a strange kitten, and told to read "Mary." Nobody paid any
attention to her. They did not even look at her. They went on,
indifferently, reading their parts, moving here and there on orders from
Jenkins. Suddenly her name was rapped out:

"Your cue, Miss Bryce."

She fumbled her script, blushed furiously, found the place, and read
stupidly, beginning with the cue.

" . . . Where is she? Mrs. Horton telephoned she would be here at five,
sir."

"Well, get up," ordered Jenkins, testily. "You enter R., upper door.
Come front and answer Horton, who stands L. C. Then you exit L., up
stage."

They all looked at her now. She felt their impatience, their supercilious
smiles. She knew she was that leper in the theatre--an amateur. She did
not know what Jenkins was talking about with his down R's, and his up L's.
He entered as Mary and showed her the business. She caught the idea at
once, and he grunted something which might have been approval or a curse.
The rest of the time she spent in fevered attention to the script, looking
for the signal, "Mary," but it came no more in that act. They went all
over it again, and she managed it without a hitch. Then they were
dismissed until two o'clock, and every one hurried off for lunch.

Isabelle waited, thinking that of course Cartel would ask her to lunch
with him. But there were no signs of him. She inquired where his office
was, and ascended the stairs with the intention of expressing her
dissatisfaction with her part. She stopped outside the door at the sound
of voices--Cartel's and Wally's. She went in.

"Well!" exploded her father, "so there you are!"

"Good morning, Wally. Max wired you?"

"She did. You will come home with me at once."

"There is no need of our boring Mr. Cartel with our family rows," she
said, sweetly. "I have no intention of going anywhere with you. I've
decided upon a stage career, and I'm rehearsing with Mr. Cartel now."

The manager stifled a smile.

"You're not of age, young woman, and you can be _made_ to do things!"
said Wally.

"Take it to law, you mean? Jail and all that? Public announcement that
you and Max can't manage me? Stupid, Wally, very stupid."

"You're not through with your education. It will be time enough to
decide on a career when you finish school."

"I have finished school. That I am d