had produced even a greater effect than his lines seemed to
warrant. When he spoke again, it was quite simply, and
sincerely, and though he spoke for Carroll's benefit, he
addressed himself to Marion.

"You were quite right last night," he said, "it is a most
charming piece of work. I am really extremely grateful to you
for bringing it to my notice." He rose, and going to
Carroll, put his hand on his shoulder. "My boy," he said, "I
congratulate you. I should like to be your age, and to have
written that play. Come to my theatre to-morrow and we will talk
terms. Talk it over first with your friends, so that I sha'n't
rob you. Do you think you would prefer a lump sum now, and so be
done with it altogether, or trust that the royalties may--"

"Royalties," prompted Marion, in an eager aside.

The men laughed. "Quite right," Wimpole assented, good-
humoredly; "it's a poor sportsman who doesn't back his own horse.

Well, then, until to-morrow."

"But," Carroll began, "one moment please. I haven't thanked
you."

"My dear boy," cried Wimpole, waving him away with his stick, "it
is I who have to thank you."

"And--and there is a condition," Carroll said, "which goes with
the play. It is that Miss Cavendish is to have the part of