ear again at the end of the first
act, and she turned her burning cheek his way as she answered happily:

"It seems so to me--but then I'm prejudiced, you know."

"We're all prejudiced, when it comes to that--made so by this
performance. I'm pretty proud of my cousin _Petruchio_, too," he went
on, including Mrs. Cartwright at his side. "I'd no idea boots could be
so becoming to any girl--outside of a chorus. Olivia's splendid. Do you
suppose"--he was addressing Ruth again--"you and I might go behind the
scenes and tell them how we feel about it?"

"Oh, no, indeed, Mr. Kendrick," Ruth replied, much shocked. "It's lots
different, a girls' play like this, from the regular theatre. They'd be
so astonished to see you. Rob's told me, heaps of times, how they go
perfectly crazy after every act, and she has all she can do to keep them
cool enough for the next. She'd never forgive us. And besides, Olivia
Cartwright's not to know you're here, you know."

"That's true. I'd forgotten how disturbing my presence is supposed to
be," and Richard leaned back again to laugh with Mrs. Cartwright.

But, behind the scenes, the news had penetrated, nobody knew just how.
Roberta learned, to her surprise and distraction, that Richard Kendrick
was somehow a particularly interesting figure in the eyes of her young
players, and she speedily discovered that they were all more or less
excited at the knowledge that he was somewhere below the footlights.
Olivia, indeed, was immediately in a flutter, quite as her mother had
predicted, at the thought of Cousin Richard's eyes upon her in her
masculine attire; and Roberta, in the brief interval she could spare for
the purpose, had to take her sternly in hand. An autocratic _Katherine_
might, then, have been overheard addressing a flurried _Petruchio_, in a
corner:

"For pity's sake, child, who is he that you need be afraid of him? He's
no critic, I'll wager, and if he's your cousin he'll be sure to think
you act like a veteran, anyhow. Forget him, and go ahead. You're doing
splendidly. Don't you dare slump just because you're remembering your
audience!"

"Oh, of course I'll try, Miss Gray," replied an extremely feminine voice
from beneath _Petruchio's_ fierce mustachios. "But Richard Kendrick
really is awfully sort of upsetting, don't you know?"

"Of course I don't know," denied Roberta promptly. "As long as Miss
Copeland herself is pleased with us, nobody else matters. And Miss
Copeland is deli