," and Martha shook
her head wearily. "The end of my dreams has come. I shall close the
theater to-night."

"Lord, Miss Martha," cried Lizzie, "don't be hasty. Ah," as a knock
sounded on the door, "there are the papers. Shall I open them up for
you?"

"I can find the notices easily enough," said Martha, taking the papers.
"I am sure the horrid headlines will stare me in the face. Mr. Clayton
tried to encourage me last night, but I am sure the verdict will be
against me."

"I wouldn't bother with the papers if I felt that way, Miss Martha. Lots
of the actors at Mrs. Anderson's said they never read no criticisms, but
once in a great while when an actor got a good line, I always noticed
he'd find a way to read it aloud at the supper table."

"By the way, Lizzie," said Martha, suddenly, "is Mrs. Anderson's full
now, do you suppose?"

"It wasn't yesterday."

"Do you suppose I could get my old room again?"

"Your old room?" cried the amazed Lizzie. "Why, that's no place for a
real actress."

Martha sighed again and tried to smile. "But I'm not a real actress and
I must find a cheaper place. Pack up to-day. Better 'phone the hotel
office at once that we shall leave in an hour."

Lizzie went to the 'phone while Martha opened the newspapers. She turned
the pages idly until she found the headlines she sought, and for a
moment read in silence. Suddenly she sprang to her feet and threw the
papers on the floor.

"Infamous," she cried bitterly. "Why need they be so cruel? I won't read
another line."

At that moment there was a knock at the door, and Pinkie, resplendent in
a new tailor-made gown, brilliantly red, burst into the room.

"Just rushed in to tell you how perfectly grand you were last night, and
what perfectly lovely things the papers said about me," she cried. "Of
course, that smart critic on the _American_ might have said I had
improved a little, but then he said I was just as artistic when playing
lines as when I was only in the sextette. Nice, wasn't it?"

Martha smiled. "What did the _Journal_ say?" she asked.

"Oh, something nice--I don't quite remember," evaded Pinkie.

"And the _Herald_?"

"Success!" cried Pinkie. "But I think it's a shame what some of them
said about you, Martha. It isn't so at all."

"Never mind, dear," said Martha, somewhat wearily. "We did the best we
could."

"The trouble was the play was bad," continued Pinkie. "Don't know what
that author meant by putting me only in o