of Carton? Of course,
Tommy Page, the fool----just then she caught Martin Christiansen's eye.
He held up his hands to her, clapping, and bowing and throwing kisses.
He rushed to the garden, and came back with a huge sunflower which he
tossed to her, calling: "Author!"

After many and prolonged calls, Isabelle came modestly forth.

"Thank you," she said. "I think Mr. Charles Dickens is dead; if he is, I
will thank you for him."

"Company! Company!" shouted the parents and relatives. Isabelle felt
this to be bad discipline for the actors, but after a moment's
hesitation, she led them all forth.

Martin Christiansen was the first to reach her side. With a low bow he
indicated the sunflower which she carried.

"My flower!" he murmured tenderly. "Isabelle, I've seen them all,
Bernhardt, Duse, Fiske, but I've never seen any acting that could be
compared with yours!"

It was that supreme moment which made up to Isabelle for everything else.
She knew then the joy of appreciation--knew that Martin Christiansen was a
finer soul, and akin unto her own!

CHAPTER EIGHT

Isabelle's debut as dramatist and actress was much discussed and laughed
over in the colony. Her pranks had long been a favourite topic, but this
last one marked her as a real personality.

"Isabelle," Martin Christiansen said to her, a day or so after the
performance, "you gave me so much pleasure with your interpretation of
Mr. Dickens's work, that I want to do something for your pleasure."

"Do you?" said Isabelle, enthusiastically.

"Theatrical stars are so temperamental, I scarcely know what to suggest.
What does a leading lady and producer like to do in her moments of idle
ease?"

It was a great opportunity, and Isabelle considered it at length.

"I should like to go bathing on the club beach, and have lunch
afterwards on the club porch."

"Most reasonable of Leading Ladies, what day would suit you best?"

"To-morrow"--promptly.

"Good. Shall we say at eleven? I will give myself the honour of coming
for you."

"You ask Max to let me go, will you?"

"With pleasure. Shall we ask the other members of your company, too?
Does a star permit the company to eat below the salt?"

"Oh no, don't let's have them--just you and me."

"Most flattering. I would prefer that."

"You won't ask the Wallys?"

"You refer to your parents?"

She nodded.

"This is your party--you may ask the guests," he laughed.

So