ly twenty-five minutes
to get the train for New York and must say good-by at once and take a
cab for the other station.

However, he didn't let her go so easily. Assuming charge in a simple,
offhand manner, he found a taxicab which took them to the South
Station, led her to the ticket-office, secured a chair, and put her on
the train.

She kissed Elsie Marley again, squeezing her hand meaningly. And she
nearly forgot and showed her dimples, looking out of the window as her
train pulled out, to see them together, her uncle with his hat in his
hand, Elsie waving her pocket-handkerchief.

"He's a darling," she said to herself as they moved toward the Trinity
Place Station, "and it's mighty lucky for my career that I didn't see
more of him. But he'll be far happier with that lovely honey-princess,
and I'm glad she's drawn a prize. As for me, hooray for Cousin Julia
and the footlights!"

CHAPTER V

"I hope, Elsie, your friend wasn't in pain?" Mr. Middleton inquired
with concern shortly after they were established in the train for
Enderby.

"Oh, no," the girl assured him, trying, but vainly, to add "Uncle John."

"I thought she might be suffering from toothache or neuralgia, wearing
that scarf about her face on such a warm day--particularly as she
frowned and screwed her mouth in a rather distressed way," he explained.

Elsie smiled. Indeed she almost laughed, partly because she was
herself struck by the humor of it, partly because it would so amuse
Elsie Moss when she wrote her about it.

"Oh, no," she repeated. "Oh, no, Uncle John"--resolutely--"she was
just--well--she was acting, I suppose. She wants very much to go on
the stage."

"And doesn't lose any opportunity for practice?" He smiled, but rather
ruefully. "Poor child! Somehow, of all ambitions, there seems to be
more tragedy, more pitifulness, underlying that than any other. Where
one succeeds, so many fail--go down into darkness and obscurity. Your
mother had the fever at one time as a very young girl, Elsie. As a
matter of fact, she had some little talent in that direction, but
fortunately we were able to persuade her to give up the idea entirely."
He sighed. "She was so tender-hearted and affectionate that she could
have been induced to give up far more precious things than an ambition
of that sort."

Elsie was gazing out of the window. He pointed out a country club and
several fine estates at a distance, then asked:

"What is