drummed impatiently on the tea-tray.

"I wish you wouldn't be so abject about it," she said. "If I
were a man I'd make them take those plays."

"How?" asked the American; "with a gun?"

"Well, I'd keep at it until they read them," declared Marion.
"I'd sit on their front steps all night and I'd follow them in
cabs, and I'd lie in wait for them at the stage-door. I'd just
make them take them."

Carroll sighed and stared at the ceiling. "I guess I'll give up
and go home," he said.

"Oh, yes, do, run away before you are beaten," said Miss
Cavendish, scornfully. "Why, you can't go now. Everybody will
be back in town soon, and there are a lot of new plays coming on,
and some of them are sure to be failures, and that's our chance.
You rush in with your piece and somebody may take it sooner than
close the theatre."

"I'm thinking of closing the theatre myself," said Carroll.
"What's the use of my hanging on here?" he exclaimed. "It
distresses Helen to know I am in London, feeling about her as I
do--and the Lord only knows how it distresses me. And, maybe, if
I went away," he said, consciously, "she might miss me. She
might see the difference."

Miss Cavendish held herself erect and pressed her lips together