hink I'm one of the stage-struck young women?" she said.
"Perhaps you're wondering if I can act? Perhaps----"

"What I'm wondering," interrupted Brent, "is--if you know anything about
it? Not about acting, but about the practical side of the thing--the
profession? A pretty stiff proposition, you know."

"What I know," said Queenie Crood determinedly, "is that I've got a
natural talent for acting. And I'd get on--if only I could get away from
this place. I will get away!--if only somebody would give me a bit of
advice about going to London and getting--you know--getting put in the
way of it. I don't care how hard the life is, nor how hard I'd have to
work--it would be what I want, and better than this anyway!"

"You aren't happy in this town?" suggested Brent.

Queenie gave an eloquent glance out of her dark eyes.

"Happy!" she exclaimed scornfully. "Shut up in that house with Simon
Crood! Would you be? You saw something of it last night. Would you like
to be mewed up there, day in, day out, year in, year out, with no
company beyond him and those two cronies of his, who are as bad as
himself--mean, selfish, money-grubbers! Oh!"

"Isn't your uncle good to you?" asked Brent with simple directness.

"He's been good enough in giving me bed and board and clothing since my
father and mother died six years ago," answered the girl, "and in return
I've saved him the wages of the two servants he ought to have. But do
you think I want to spend all my life there, doing that sort of thing? I
don't--and I won't! And I thought, when I heard that you were a London
man, and a journalist, that you'd be able to tell me what to do--to get
to London. Help me, Mr. Brent!"

She involuntarily held out her hands to him, and Brent just as
involuntarily took them in his. He was a cool and not easily impressed
young man, but his pulses thrilled as he felt the warm fingers against
his own.

"By George!" he exclaimed. "If--if you can act like that----"

"I'm not acting!" she said quickly.

"Well, well, I didn't say you were," he answered with a laugh. "Only if
you could--but of course I'll help you! I'll find out a thing or two
for you: I don't know much myself, but I know people who do know. I'll
do what I can."

The girl pressed his hands and withdrew her own.

"Thank you, thank you!" she said impulsively. "Oh, if you only knew how
I want to get away--and breathe! That house----"

"Look here," interrupted Brent, "you're very candid.