mind," said he. "You didn't mean it."

"It's only because I love you, Paul," she murmured wretchedly.

"That's all right," he said. "Let us go in here"--they were
passing a confectioner's--"and we'll have some jam-puffs."

Paul went to his friend Rowlatt, who had already heard, through one
of his assistants who had a friend in the Life School, of the
dramatic end of the model's career.

"I quite sympathize with you," Rowlatt laughed. "I've wondered how
you stuck it so long. What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going on the stage."

"How are you going to get there?"

"I don't know," said Paul, "but if I knew an actor, he would be able
to tell me. I thought perhaps you might know an actor."

"I do--one or two," replied Rowlatt; "but they're just ordinary
actors--not managers; and I shouldn't think they'd be able to do
anything for you."

"Except what I say," Paul persisted. "They'll tell me how one sets
about being an actor."

Rowlatt scribbled a couple of introductions on visiting cards, and
Paul went away satisfied. He called on the two actors. The first, in