e asked, looking up from his letter.

"You might get it," I answered. "Then you would be disappointed."

He laughed. "Well, you know what I mean--something we could refer to as
'new and original' on the programme. What do you say? It will be a big
chance for you, and I'm willing to risk it. I'm sure you can do it.
People are beginning to talk about you."

I had written a few farces, comediettas, and they had been successful.
But the chief piece of the evening is a serious responsibility. A young
man may be excused for hesitating. It can make, but also it can mar him.
A comic opera above all other forms of art--if I may be forgiven
for using the sacred word in connection with such a subject--demands
experience.

I explained my fears. I did not explain that in my desk lay a four-act
drama throbbing with humanity, with life, with which it had been my
hope--growing each day fainter--to take the theatrical public by storm,
to establish myself as a serious playwright.

"It's very simple," urged Hodgson. "Provide Atherton plenty of comic
business; you ought to be able to do that all right. Give Gleeson
something pretty in waltz time, and Duncan a part in which she can
change her frock every quarter of an hour or so, and the thing is done."

"I'll tell you what," continued Hodgson, "I'll take the whole crowd
down to Richmond on Sunday. We'll have a coach, and leave the theatre at
half-past ten. It will be an opportunity for you to study them. You'll
be able to have a talk with them and get to know just what they can do.
Atherton has ideas in his head; he'll explain them to you. Then, next
week, we'll draw up a contract and set to work."

It was too good an opportunity to let slip, though I knew that if
successful I should find myself pinned down firmer than ever to my role
of jester. But it is remunerative, the writing of comic opera.

A small crowd had gathered in the Strand to see us start.

"Nothing wrong, is there?" enquired the leading lady, in a tone of some
anxiety, alighting a quarter of an hour late from her cab. "It isn't a
fire, is it?"

"Merely assembled to see you," explained Mr. Hodgson, without raising
his eyes from his letters.

"Oh, good gracious!" cried the leading lady, "do let us get away
quickly."

"Box seat, my dear," returned Mr. Hodgson.

The leading lady, accepting the proffered assistance of myself and three
other gentlemen, mounted the ladder with charming hesitation. Some delay
in get