"She's clever, though," said Drouet, casting off any imputation
against Carrie's ability. "She picks up her part quick enough."

"You don't say so!" said the manager.

"Yes, sir; she surprised me the other night. By George, if she
didn't."

"We must give her a nice little send-off," said the manager.
"I'll look after the flowers."

Drouet smiled at his good-nature.

"After the show you must come with me and we'll have a little
supper."

"I think she'll do all right," said Drouet.

"I want to see her. She's got to do all right. We'll make her,"
and the manager gave one of his quick, steely half-smiles, which
was a compound of good-nature and shrewdness.

Carrie, meanwhile, attended the first rehearsal. At this
performance Mr. Quincel presided, aided by Mr. Millice, a young
man who had some qualifications of past experience, which were
not exactly understood by any one. He was so experienced and so
business-like, however, that he came very near being rude--
failing to remember, as he did, that the individuals he was
trying to instruct were volunteer players and not salaried
underlings.