eare. Oh, well!'

He put his hand to a bell-button in the arm of his chair, and in a few
moments his secretary ushered in Mr Charles Mann. Sir Henry rose, drew
himself up to his full height, but even then had to look up at his
visitor.

'How d'you do? I remember you as a boy, and I remember your father. I
even remember his father at Drury Lane.... Pity you've broken the
tradition. The public is proud of the old theatrical families.... I'm
sorry you wouldn't take that part I offered you. I saw your photograph
in the papers and your face was the very thing, and, besides, your
return to the stage would have been interesting.'

Charles bristled, and flung his portfolio and large black hat down on
the table.

'I have brought you my designs for _Volpone_.'

'For what?'

'_Volpone_--a comedy by Ben Jonson.'

'Oh, Ben Jonson!'

Sir Henry was depressed. He had met people before who had talked to
him about the Old Dramatists.

Charles opened his portfolio.

'These are designs I have just completed. You see, classical, like
Ben's mind.'

'It looks immensely high,' said Sir Henry, his eyes twinkling.

'That,' replied Charles, 'is what I want, so that the figures are
dwarfed.'

'I should have to alter my proscenium,' chuckled Sir Henry, and
Charles, who missed the chuckle, continued eagerly,--

'I should like it played by dolls.'

Sir Henry turned over the drawings and played with the money in his
pocket.

'You never saw my _King Lear_, did you?'

'I have seen pictures of it. Too realistic. A visit to Stonehenge
would have answered the same purpose. You would have then to make such
a storm as would drown the storm in _Lear_.'

Sir Henry remembered his part and fetched up an enormous voice from his
stomach and roared,--

'Rage, blow and drown the steeples.' Then he kept his voice rumbling
in his belly and tapped with his foot like the bass-trumpet man in a
street band.

'Superb,' cried Charles.

'My voice?' asked Sir Henry, now very pleased with himself.

'My drawings,' replied Charles, rubbing his thumb along a line that
especially delighted him.

'O Heavens!' Sir Henry paid no further attention to the drawings and
drawled, 'Wonderful thing the theatre.' There's life in it--life! I
hate leaving it. You haven't been to my room before?'

'I once waited for two hours downstairs to ask you to give me a part.
You didn't see me and I gave up acting.

'Oh! and now when I offer you a par