"Oh, I wish I could!" sighed Tony. "But I am afraid I can't. Oh, there is
Uncle Phil!" she interrupted herself to exclaim with perceptible relief.

In a moment Doctor Holiday was with them, his arm around Tony while he
acknowledged the introduction to the stage manager, who eyed him somewhat
uncordially. The two men took each the other's measure. Possibly a spark
of antagonism flashed between them for an instant. Each wanted the lovely
little Rosalind on his own side of the fence, and each suspected the
other of desiring to lure her to the other side if he could. For the
moment however, the advantage was all with the doctor, with his
protecting arm around Tony.

"Holiday!" muttered Hempel. "There was a Holiday once who married one of
the finest actresses of the American stage--carried her off to nurse his
babies. I never forgave that man. He was a brute."

Tony stiffened. Her eyes flashed. She drew away from her uncle and
confronted the stage manager angrily.

"He wasn't a brute, if you mean my father!" she burst out. "My mother was
Laura LaRue."

"I know it," grinned the manager, thoroughly delighted to have struck
fire. The girl was better even than he had thought. She was magnificent,
angry. "That's why I'm here," he added. "I just offered this young person
a part in a practically all-star cast, touring the West. Do you mind?" he
challenged Doctor Holiday.

"I should mind her accepting," said the other man tranquilly. "As it is,
I am duly appreciative of the offer. Thank you."