he door upon every boy
and girl who thinks he can act, by the grace of God."

With this finale, the great man walked away, leaving Isabelle feeling
very young and very flat. But she rallied presently. Of course, he had
exaggerated it. It might be that the majority of people had to go that
long, hard road of preparation, but always there would be some who would
leap to the top without the ladder. In her deepest, secret heart she
knew herself to be of that few.

She took up the subject again that very night, after dinner, with Miss
Watts.

"What do you think is the most necessary thing for success, Miss Watts?"

"Work."

"But in something like the stage, I mean."

"It doesn't make any difference what it is, true success is the result
of hard work and nothing else," that lady persisted, bromidically
enough.

"Don't you think it is ever an accident?"

"If it is, it's the worst accident that can happen to you."

"Why?"

"Because then you have to live up to something you haven't earned. You
don't know what to do, and in most cases you slump back into mediocrity."

"But there must be some people who don't grind----"

"Geniuses, maybe; but they usually do."

"How do you suppose geniuses recognize themselves?"

"They don't, in most cases."

"But if you felt that you had a great gift, that you were going to do
wonderful things, mightn't it be that you were a genius?"

"I should say that it meant that you were merely young," smiled Miss
Watts.

Isabelle decided that doubtless all geniuses met with this lack of
recognition in those about them. She pinned her faith to herself! In
spite of Cartel and Miss Watts--who, after all, were _old_--she rather
thought that on the opening night, when she spoke her lines, few as they
were, the critics would say simply, in large-type headlines:

"CARTEL HAS FOUND A GENIUS!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

October came, dragged by, with the opening night of the play coming
nearer. Wally induced Max to come to town and open the house. It was a
cold autumn and nearly all of their friends returned early, too.

"I had hoped that nobody would be in town when this idiot child of ours
makes her ridiculous debut, but now everybody on earth is home. Even the
weather favours Isabelle's plans," complained Max to her spouse.

"No one need know about it, if we can keep it out of the papers."

"Yes, IF!"

"Better make the best of it. Ask a lot of people to