at the thought that she would perhaps never have
a chance of putting forth her strength. Tonight her mood was one of
sullen carelessness; she did little more than 'walk through' her part,
feeling a pleasure in thus insulting the house. One scrap of dialogue
she had with Grace, and her eyes answered with a flash of hatred to the
arrogance of the other's regard. At another point she all but missed
her cue, for her thoughts were busy with that letter to which she had
replied this afternoon. Mr. Peel looked at her savagely, and she met
his silent rebuke with an air of indifference. After that the manager
appeared to pay peculiar attention to her as often as they were
together before the footlights. It was not the first time that Mr. Peel
had allowed her to see that she was an object of interest to him.

There was an after-piece, but Clara was not engaged in it. When, at the
fall of the curtain on the melodrama, she went to the shabby
dressing-room which she shared with two companions, a message delivered
by the call boy bade her repair as soon as possible to the manager's
office. What might this mean? She was startled on the instant, but
speedily recovered her self-control; most likely she was to receive a
rating--let it come! Without unusual hurry, she washed, changed her
dress, and obeyed the summons.

Mr. Peel was still a young man, of tall and robust stature, sanguine,
with much sham refinement in his manner; he prided himself on the
civility with which he behaved to all who had business relations with
him, but every now and then the veneer gave an awkward crack, and, as
in his debate with Miss Walcott, the man himself was discovered to be
of coarse grain. His aspect was singular when, on Clara's entrance into
the private room, he laid down his cigarette and scrutinised her. There
was a fiery hue on his visage, and the scowl of his black eyebrows had
a peculiar ugliness.

'Miss Vale,' he began, after hesitation, 'do you consider that you
played your part this evening with the conscientiousness that may
fairly be expected of you?'

'Perhaps not,' replied the girl, averting her eyes, and resting her
hand on the table.

'And may I ask _why_ not?'

'I didn't feel in the humour. The house saw no difference.'

'Indeed? The house saw no difference? Do you mean to imply that you
always play badly?'

'I mean that the part isn't worth any attention--even if they were able
to judge.'

There was a perfection of insolenc