ing stream of
useful information concerning the theatrical world. Mr. Marrier,
quite unconsciously, was bit by bit remedying Edward Henry's acute
ignorance.

The question of wages had caused Edward Henry some apprehensions.
He had learnt in a couple of days that a hundred pounds a week was a
trifle on the stage. He had soon heard of performers who worked for
"nominal" salaries of forty and fifty a week. For a manager twenty
pounds a week seemed to be a usual figure. But in the Five Towns three
pounds a week is regarded as very goodish pay for any sub-ordinate,
and Edward Henry could not rid himself all at once of native
standards. He had therefore, with diffidence, offered three pounds a
week to the aristocratic Marrier. And Mr. Marrier had not refused
it, nor ceased to smile. On three pounds a week he haunted the best
restaurants, taxi-cabs, and other resorts, and his garb seemed always
to be smarter than Edward Henry's--especially in such details as
waistcoat slips.

Of course Mr. Marrier had a taxi-cab waiting exactly opposite the
coach from which Edward Henry descended. It was just this kind of
efficient attention that was gradually endearing him to his employer.

"How goes it?" said Edward Henry, curtly, as they drove down to
the Grand Babylon Hotel--now Edward Henry's regular headquarters in
London.

Said Mr. Marrier:

"I suppose you've seen another of 'em's got a knighthood?"

"No," said Edward Henry. "Who?" He knew that by "'em" Mr. Marrier
meant the great race of actor-managers.

"Gerald Pompey. Something to do with him being a sheriff in the City,
you know. I bet you what you laike he went in for the Common Council
simply in order to get even with old Pilgrim. In fact I know he did.
And now a foundation-stone-laying has dan it."

"A foundation-stone-laying?"

"Yes. The new City Guild's building, you knaow. Royalty--Temple Bar
business--sheriffs--knighthood. There you are!"

"Oh!" said Edward Henry. And then after a pause added: "Pity _we_
can't have a foundation-stone-laying!"

"By the way, old Pilgrim's in the deuce and all of a haole, I heah.
It's all over the Clubs." (In speaking of the Clubs Mr. Marrier always
pronounced them with a capital letter.) "I told you he was going
to sail from Tilbury on his world-tour, and have a grand embarking
ceremony and seeing-off! Just laike him! Greatest advertiser the world
ever saw! Well, since that P. & O. boat was lost on the Goodwins, Cora
Pryde has a