orm. The white organ had a good heading: "Re-birth of the
intellectual drama in London. What a provincial has done. Opinions of
leading men." Two columns altogether! There was, however, little in
the two columns. The leading men had practised a sagacious caution.
They, like the press as a whole, were obviously waiting to see which
way the great elephantine public would jump. When the enormous animal
had jumped they would all exclaim: "What did I tell you?" The other
critiques were colourless. At the end of the green critique occurred
the following sentence: "It is only fair to state, nevertheless,
that the play was favourably received by an apparently enthusiastic
audience."

"Nevertheless!" ... "Apparently!"

Edward Henry turned the page to the theatrical advertisements.

"REGENT THEATRE. (Twenty yards from Piccadilly Circus.) 'The
Orient Pearl,' by Carlo Trent. Miss ROSE EUCLID. Every evening
at 8.30. Matinees every Wednesday and Saturday at 2.30.
Box-office open 10 to 10. Sole Proprietor--E.H. Machin."

Unreal! Fantastic! Was this he, Edward Henry? Could it be his mother's
son?

Still--"Matinees every Wednesday and Saturday." "_Every_ Wednesday and
Saturday." That word implied and necessitated a long run--anyhow a run
extending over months. That word comforted him. Though he knew as well
as you do that Mr. Marrier had composed the advertisement, and that he
himself was paying for it, it comforted him. He was just like a child.

VIII

"I say, Cunningham's made a hit!" Mr. Marrier almost shouted at him as
he entered the managerial room at the Regent.

"Cunningham? Who's Cunningham?"

Then he remembered. She was the girl who played the Messenger. She had
only three words to say, and to say them over and over again; and she
had made a hit!

"Seen the notices?" asked Marrier.

"Yes. What of them?"

"Oh! Well!" Marrier drawled. "What would you expect?"

"That's just what _I_ said!" observed Edward Henry.

"You did, did you?" Mr. Marrier exclaimed, as if extremely interested
by this corroboration of his views.

Carlo Trent strolled in; he remarked that he happened to be just
passing. But discussion of the situation was not carried very far.

That evening the house was nearly full, except the pit and the
gallery, which were nearly empty. Applause was perfunctory.

"How much?" Edward Henry inquired of the box-office manager when
figures were added together.

"Thirty-one pounds, tw