partly. Then he said: "There's something curious
about it. You may put up the whole affair yourself, and yet in what's
said you can tell whether there's a real good will that comes from the
writers themselves or not."

"And you mean that there is this mystical kindness for Mr. Maxwell's
play in the prophecies that all read so much alike to me?"

"Yes, I do," said the manager, laughing. "They like him because he's new
and young, and is making his way single-handed."

"Well," said Louise, "those seem good grounds for preference to me,
too;" and she thought how nearly they had been her own grounds for
liking Maxwell.

Grayson went with them to the stage and found her the best place to sit
and see the rehearsal. He made some one get chairs, and he sat with her
chatting while men in high hats and overcoats and women in bonnets and
fur-edged butterfly-capes came in one after another. Godolphin arrived
among the first, with an ulster which came down to where his pantaloons
were turned up above his overshoes. He caught sight of Louise, and
approached her with outstretched hand, and Grayson gave up his chair to
the actor. Godolphin was very cordial, deferentially cordial, with a
delicate vein of reminiscent comradery running through his manner. She
spoke to him of having at last got his ideal for Salome, and he said,
with a slight sigh and a sort of melancholy absence: "Yes, Miss Havisham
will do it magnificently." Then he asked, with a look of latent
significance:

"Have you ever seen her?"

Louise laughed for as darkling a reason. "Only in real life. You know we
live just over and under each other."

"Ah, true. But I meant, on the stage. She's a great artist. You know
she's the one I wanted for Salome from the start."

"Then you ought to be very happy in getting her at last."

"She will do everything for the play," sighed Godolphin. "She'll make up
for all my shortcomings."

"You won't persuade us that you have any shortcomings, Mr. Godolphin,"
said Louise. "You are Haxard, and Haxard is the play. You can't think,
Mr. Godolphin, how deeply grateful we both are to you for your
confidence in my husband's work, your sacrifices--"

"You overpay me a thousand times for everything, Mrs. Maxwell," said
the actor. "Any one might have been proud and happy to do all I've done,
and more, for such a play. I've never changed my opinion for a moment
that it was _the_ American drama. And now if Miss Havisham only turns
out to