down in
an arm-chair fronting his own, and give an account of himself since they
parted. He asked after Mrs. Maxwell's health, and as far as Maxwell
could make out he was sincere in the quest. He did not stop till he had
asked, with the most winning and radiant smile, "And the play, what have
you done with the play?"

He was so buoyant that Maxwell could not be heavy about it, and he
answered as gayly: "Oh, I fancy I have been waiting for you to come on
and take it."

Godolphin did not become serious, but he became if possible more
sincere. "Do you really think I could do anything with it?"

"If you can't nobody can."

"Why, that is very good of you, very good indeed, Maxwell. Do you know,
I have been thinking about that play. You see, the trouble was with the
Salome. The girl I had for the part was a thoroughly nice girl, but she
hadn't the weight for it. She did the comic touches charmingly, but when
it came to the tragedy she wasn't there. I never had any doubt that I
could create the part of Haxard. It's a noble part. It's the greatest
role on the modern stage. It went magnificently in Chicago--with the
best people. You saw what the critics said of it?"

"No; you didn't send me the Chicago papers." Maxwell did not say that
all this was wholly different from what Godolphin had written him when
he renounced the play. Yet he felt that Godolphin was honest then and
was honest now. It was another point of view; that was all.

"Ah, I thought I sent them. There was some adverse criticism of the
play as a whole, but there was only one opinion of Haxard. And you
haven't done anything with the piece yet?"

"No, nothing."

"And you think I could do Haxard? You still have faith in me?"

"As much faith as I ever had," said Maxwell; and Godolphin found nothing
ambiguous in a thing certainly susceptible of two interpretations.

"That is very good of you, Maxwell; very good." He lifted his fine head
and gazed absently a moment at the wall before him. "Well, then I will
tell you what I will do, Mr. Maxwell; I will take the play."

"You will!"

"Yes; that is if you think I can do the part."

"Why, of course!"

"And if--if there could be some changes--very slight changes--made in
the part of Salome. It needs subduing." Godolphin said this as if he had
never suggested anything of the kind before; as if the notion were newly
evolved from his experience.

"I will do what I can, Mr. Godolphin," Maxwell promised, while h