she declared. "I am sure of
that, because he never came to one of the rehearsals. Once I saw some
one out front in the darkened theater who seemed like Mr. Gordon, but
when I asked him if he had attended the rehearsal he declared I was
mistaken."

"But you've seen him?"

"Yes, a number of times, and since you withdrew your restrictions, I
have had dinner with him frequently, but you know all about that."

"I couldn't expect you to be cooped up all the time," Clayton admitted,
"especially when your salary leaped upward so amazingly. And I don't
blame you for taking a more comfortable apartment in the Webster. Aunt
Jane's boarding-house was all right for the chorus girl, but a trifle
too _passe_ for the future star."

Martha shook her head sadly. "I think I was happier in those days than
now," she mused. "The more one attempts, the greater the chance for
failure. To-night I realize what is the ambition of most players, yet,
somehow, I am filled with dread. It doesn't seem right that I, plain
Martha Farnum, should be rushed upward like a skyrocket. Though the
rocket shoots upward in a blaze of glory, the stick must fall."

"Good heavens, you mustn't anticipate bad luck," protested Clayton,
cheerily. "I'm going out front and witness your triumph."

"If it only is a triumph!" sighed Martha.

"It will be," insisted Clayton. "However, don't be nervous. Remember if
you ever need me, I will be within call. _Au revoir_--and good luck to
you," he added cordially, and in another moment he had gone, while
Martha stood staring blankly before her, and wondering what the night
would bring forth.

"Oh, Miss Farnum," cried Lizzie, suddenly emerging from the
dressing-room, "you'd better hurry and dress for the first act. It is
almost time for the overture."

"All right, Lizzie," answered Martha, going to the room and beginning to
disrobe. A moment later, Miss Pinkie Lexington, made up for the part of
a fashionable society woman, entered the green-room cautiously, and
crossed to the door behind the boxes.

"Where can he be?" she murmured to herself. Then, hearing the call-boy
crying "Overture, overture," in the distance, she started quickly toward
the stage, only to pause abruptly when she found herself face to face
with Miss Flossie Forsythe, neatly attired in a maid's costume, and
wearing a white apron and cap.

"Oh, I wouldn't have come here, if I'd known you was here," declared
Flossie, angrily.

Pinkie extended a conci