'll go
on to New York," said a Miss Connie Girard dispassionately. "There's a
party I know there rents a house that Frohman owns, and he'd give me a
letter. What I want is a Broadway success."

"That time we played--you know, seven weeks running, in Portland," said
a stout, aging actress, "the time my little dance made such a hit, you
know--"

"Mind jer, Max never come near us this morning," interrupted a Miss Rose
Ransome firmly. "Because he knew what he done, and he wasn't looking for
trouble! He wrote a notice--"

"One of the Portland papers, in c'menting on the show--" the dancer
resumed.

"Say, Julie, want to walk down to Kearney with me?" Miss Girard said,
jumping up. "I want to get my corsets, and we might drop in and see if
we can work Foster for some seats for to-night."

"I've got a date to-night," said Julia, with a glance at her mother.

"What's that?" Emeline said sharply.

"Why, Mama, I told you I was going to the Orpheum with the Rosenthals--"

"She's going with the whole bunch," Mrs. Page commented, with a shrug.
"I can't stand them, but she can!"

"I think Mark Rosenthal's a darling," some girl said, "I want to tell
you right now there's not anybody can play the piano as good as he can."

"That's right," Julia said, very low.

"Well, excuse me from the bunch!" Mrs. Page said lazily.

"But we've got a real pretty little blush, just the same!" Mrs. Tarbury
said, smiling at Julia. The girls shouted, and Julia grew still more
red. "Never mind, baby love!" said the older woman soothingly. "It's
just Aunt Min's nonsense! Say, but listen, Julia!" Her tone grew
suddenly intense. "I meant to ask you something--listen. Say, no
fooling, Artheris wants to know if you would take a job."

"Twenty a week, and twenty towns a month," Julia said, still ruffled.
"No, I would not!"

"No, this isn't anything like that, dearie," explained Mrs. Tarbury.
"There's going to be a big amachure show for charity at the Grand next
month, and they want a few professionals in it, to buck up the others.
All the swells are going to be in it--it's going to be something
elegant! Of course they'd pay something, and it'd be a lot of fun for
you! Artheris wants you to do it, and it wouldn't hurt you none to have
him on your side, Julia. I promised I'd talk to you."

"One performance?" Julia asked. "What play?"

"I'd do it in a minute," said the stout actress from Portland, whose
dance had been so gratifying a success, "but