ce as good
a chance as it was yesterday, thanks to you. You've given me such
beautiful new things to do and such beautiful new things to say. How
I'll work at it! After rehearsal this afternoon I'll learn every word of
it in the tunnel before I get to my station in Brooklyn. That's funny,
too, isn't it; the first time I've ever been to New York I go and board
over in Brooklyn! But it's a beautiful place to study, and by the time
I get home I'll know the lines and have all the rest of the time for the
real work: trying to make myself into a faraway picture of the adorable
girl you had in your mind when you wrote it. You see--"

She checked herself again. "Oh! Oh!" she said, half-laughing,
half-ashamed. "I've never talked so much in my life! You see it seems to
me that the whole world has just burst into bloom!"

She radiated a happiness that was almost tangible; it was a glow so
real it seemed to warm and light that dingy old passageway. Certainly it
warmed and lighted the young man who stood there with her. For him,
too, the whole world was transfigured, and life just an orchard to walk
through in perpetual April morning.

The voice of Packer proclaimed: "Two o'clock, ladies and gentlemen!
Rehearsal two o'clock this afternoon!"

The next moment he looked into the passageway. "This afternoon's
rehearsal, two o'clock, Miss--ahh--Malone. Oh, Mr. Canby, Mr. Potter
wants you to go to lunch with him and Mr. Tinker. He's waiting. This
way, Mr. Canby."

"In a moment," said the young playwright. "Miss Malone, you spoke of
your going home to work at making yourself into 'the adorable girl'
I had in my mind when I wrote your part. It oughtn't"--he faltered,
growing red--"it oughtn't to take much--much work!"

And, breathless, he followed the genially waiting Packer.

X

"Your overcoat, Mr. Potter!" called that faithful servitor as Potter
was going out through the theatre with old Tinker and Canby. "You've
forgotten your overcoat, sir."

"I don't want it."

"Yes sir; but it's a little raw to-day." He leaped down into the
orchestra from the high stage, striking his knee upon a chair with
violence, but, pausing not an instant for that, came running up the
aisle carrying the overcoat. "You might want it after you get out into
the air, Mr. Potter. I'm sure Mr. Tinker or Mr. Canby won't mind taking
charge of it for you until you feel like putting it on."

"Lord! Don't make such a fuss, Packer. Put it on me--put it